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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1286 ***
+
+TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE
+
+By Charles And Mary Lamb
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     PREFACE
+     THE TEMPEST
+     A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’s DREAM
+     THE WINTER’S TALE
+     MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+     AS YOU LIKE IT
+     THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+     THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+     CYMBELINE
+     KING LEAR
+     MACBETH
+     ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+     TAMING OF THE SHREW
+     COMEDY OF ERRORS
+     MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+     TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+     TIMON OF ATHENS
+     ROMEO AND JULIET
+     HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+     OTHELLO
+     PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader
+as an introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose
+his words are used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in;
+and in whatever has been added to give them the regular form of a
+connected story, diligent care has been taken to select such
+words as might least interrupt the effect of the beautiful
+English tongue in which he wrote: therefore, words introduced
+into our language since his time have been as far as possible
+avoided.
+
+In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the
+young readers will perceive, when they come to see the source
+from which these stories are derived, that Shakespeare’s own
+words, with little alteration, recur very frequently in the
+narrative as well as in the dialogue; but in those made from the
+Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever able to turn
+his words into the narrative form: therefore it is feared that,
+in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young
+people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this
+fault, if it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to
+give as much of Shakespeare’s own words as possible: and if the
+“He said” and “She said,” the question and the reply, should
+sometimes seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it,
+because it was the only way in which could be given to them a few
+hints and little foretastes of the great pleasure which awaits
+them in their elder years, when they come to the rich treasures
+from which these small and valueless coins are extracted;
+pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps
+of Shakespeare’s matchless image. Faint and imperfect images they
+must be called, because the beauty of his language is too
+frequently destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his
+excellent words into words far less expressive of his true sense,
+to make it read something like prose; and even in some few
+places, where his blank verse is given unaltered, as hoping from
+its simple plainness to cheat the young readers into the belief
+that they are reading prose, yet still his language being
+transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it
+must want much of its native beauty.
+
+It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very
+young children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have
+constantly kept this in mind; but the subjects of most of them
+made this a very difficult task. It was no easy matter to give
+the histories of men and women in terms familiar to the
+apprehension of a very young mind. For young ladies, too, it has
+been the intention chiefly to write; because boys being generally
+permitted the use of their fathers’ libraries at a much earlier
+age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of
+Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look
+into this manly book; and, therefore, instead of recommending
+these Tales to the perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them
+so much better in the originals, their kind assistance is rather
+requested in explaining to their sisters such parts as are
+hardest for them to understand: and when they have helped them to
+get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will read to them
+(carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister’s ear)
+some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in
+the very words of the scene from which it is taken; and it is
+hoped they will find that the beautiful extracts, the select
+passages, they may choose to give their sisters in this way will
+be much better relished and understood from their having some
+notion of the general story from one of these imperfect
+abridgments;--which if they be fortunately so done as to prove
+delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse
+effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little
+older, that they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length
+(such a wish will be neither peevish nor irrational). When time
+and leave of judicious friends shall put them into their hands,
+they will discover in such of them as are here abridged (not to
+mention almost as many more, which are left untouched) many
+surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their infinite
+variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a
+world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women,
+the humor of which it was feared would be lost if it were
+attempted to reduce the length of them.
+
+What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and
+much more it is the writers’ wish that the true Plays of
+Shakespeare may prove to them in older years--enrichers of the
+fancy, strengtheners of virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish
+and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of all sweet and honorable
+thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity, generosity,
+humanity: for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages are
+full.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEMPEST
+
+
+There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of
+which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter
+Miranda, a very beautiful young lady. She came to this island so
+young that she had no memory of having seen any other human face
+than her father’s.
+
+They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided
+into several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study;
+there he kept his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study
+at that time much affected by all learned men: and the knowledge
+of this art he found very useful to him; for being thrown by a
+strange chance upon this island, which had been enchanted by a
+witch called Sycorax, who died there a short time before his
+arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released many good
+spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large trees,
+because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These
+gentle spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero.
+Of these Ariel was the chief.
+
+The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his
+nature, except that he took rather too much pleasure in
+tormenting an ugly monster called Caliban, for be owed him a
+grudge because he was the son of his old enemy Sycorax. This
+Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a strange misshapen thing,
+far less human in form than an ape: he took him home to his cell,
+and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have been very kind
+to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from his
+mother, Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful:
+therefore he was employed like a slave, to fetch wood and do the
+most laborious offices; and Ariel had the charge of compelling
+him to these services.
+
+When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was
+invisible to all eyes but Prospero’s) would come slyly and pinch
+him, and sometimes tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel,
+in the likeness of an ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly
+changing his shape, in the likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie
+tumbling in Caliban’s way, who feared the hedgehog’s sharp quills
+would prick his bare feet. With a variety of such-like vexatious
+tricks Ariel would often torment him, whenever Caliban neglected
+the work which Prospero commanded him to do.
+
+Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero
+could by their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea.
+By his orders they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which,
+and struggling with the wild sea-waves that every
+moment,threatened to swallow it up, he showed his daughter a fine
+large ship, which he told her was full of living beings like
+themselves. “O my dear father,” said she, “if by your art you
+have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on their sad distress.
+See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls! they will
+all perish. If I had power I would sink the sea beneath the
+earth, rather than the good ship should be destroyed, with all
+the precious souls within her.”
+
+“Be not amazed, daughter Miranda,” said Prospero; “there. is no
+harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall
+receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my
+dear child. You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from,
+and you know no more of me, but that I am your father and live in
+this poor cave. Can you remember a time before you came to this
+cell? I think you cannot, for you were not then three years of
+age.”
+
+“Certainly I can, sir,” replied Miranda.
+
+“By what?” asked Prospero; “by any other house or person? Tell me
+what you can remember, my child.”
+
+Miranda said: “It seems to me like the recollection of a dream.
+But had I not once four or five women who attended upon me?”
+ Prospero answered: “You had, and more. How is it that this still
+lives in your mind? Do you remember how you came here?” “No,
+sir,” said Miranda, “I remember nothing more.”
+
+“Twelve years ago, Miranda,” continued Prospero, “I was Duke of
+Milan, and you were a princess, and my only heir. had a younger
+brother, whose name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything;
+and as I was fond of retirement and deep study I commonly left
+the management of my state affairs to your uncle, my false
+brother (for so indeed he proved). 1, neglecting all worldly
+ends, buried among my books, did dedicate whole time to the
+bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio, being thus in
+possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed.
+The opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my
+subjects awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive
+me of my dukedom; this he soon effected with the aid of the King
+of Naples, a powerful prince, who was my enemy.”
+
+“Wherefore,” said Miranda, “did they not that hour destroy us?”
+
+“My child,” answered her father, “they durst not, so dear was the
+love that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a ship,
+and when we were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a
+small boat, without either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left
+us, as he thought, to perish. But a kind lord of my court, one
+Gonzalo, who loved me, had privately placed in the boat water,
+provisions, apparel, and some books which I prize above my
+dukedom.”
+
+“O my father,” said Miranda, “what a trouble must I have been to
+you then!”
+
+“No, my love,”’ said Prospero, “you were a little cherub that did
+preserve me.Your innocent smiles made me bear up against my
+misfortunes. Our food lasted till we landed on this desert
+island, since when my chief delight has been in teaching you,
+Miranda, and well have you profited by my instructions.”
+
+“Heaven thank you, my dear father,” said Miranda. “Now pray tell
+me, sir, your reason for raising this sea-storm?”
+
+“Know then,” said her father, “"that by means of this storm, my
+enemies, the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast ashore
+upon this island.”
+
+Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his
+magic wand, and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just
+then presented himself before his master., to give an account of
+the tempest, and how he had disposed of the ship’s company, and
+though the spirits were always invisible to Miranda, Prospero did
+not choose she should hear him holding converse (as would seem to
+her) with the empty air.
+
+“Well, my brave spirit,” said Prospero to Ariel, “how have you
+performed your task?”
+
+Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors
+of the mariners, and how the king’s son, Ferdinand, was the first
+who leaped into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear
+son swallowed up by the waves and lost. “But he is safe,” said
+Ariel, “in a corner of the isle, sitting with his arms folded,
+sadly lamenting the loss of the king, his father, whom he
+concludes drowned. Not a hair of his head is injured, and his
+princely garments, though drenched in the sea-waves, look fresher
+than before.”
+
+“That’s my delicate Ariel,” said Prospero. “Bring him hither: my
+daughter must see this young prince. Where is the king, and my
+brother?”
+
+“I left them,” answered Ariel, “searching for Ferdinand, whom
+they have little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish.
+Of the ship’s crew not one is missing; though each one thinks
+himself the only one saved; and the ship, though invisible to
+them, is safe in the harbor.”
+
+“Ariel,” said Prospero, “thy charge is faithfully performed; but
+there is more work yet.”
+
+“Is there more work?” said Ariel. “Let me remind you, master, you
+have promised me my liberty. I pray, remember, , I have done you
+worthy service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you
+without grudge or grumbling.”
+
+“How now!” said Prospero. “You do not recollect what a torment I
+freed you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who
+with age and envy was almost bent double? Where was she born?
+Speak; tell me.”
+
+“Sir, in Algiers,” said Ariel.
+
+“Oh, was she so?” said Prospero. “I must recount what you have
+been, which I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax,
+for her witchcrafts, too terrible to enter human hearing, was
+banished from Algiers, and here left by the sailors-; and because
+you were a spirit too delicate to execute her wicked commands,
+she shut you up in a tree, where I found you howling. This
+torment, remember, I did free you from.”
+
+“Pardon me, dear master,” said Ariel, ashamed to seem ungrateful;
+“I will obey your commands.”
+
+“Do so,” said Prospero, “and I will set you free.” He then gave
+orders what further he would have him do; and away went Ariel,
+first to where he had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting
+on the grass in the same melancholy posture.
+
+“Oh, my young gentleman,” said Ariel, when he saw him, ‘I will
+soon move you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda
+to have a sight of your pretty person. Come. sir,, follow me.” He
+then began singing:
+
+  “Full fathom five thy father lies;
+      Of his bones are coral made;
+  Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+      Nothing of him that doth fade,
+  But doth suffer a sea-change
+  Into something rich and strange.
+  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
+  Hark! now I hear them--Ding-dong, bell.”
+
+This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from
+the stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement
+the sound of Ariel’s voice, till it led him to Prospero and
+Miranda, who were sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now
+Miranda had never seen a man before, except her own father.
+
+“Miranda,” said Prospero, “tell me what you are looking at
+yonder.”
+
+“Oh, father,” said Miranda, in a strange surprise, “surely that
+is a spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a
+beautiful creature. Is it not a spirit?”
+
+“No, girl,” answered her father; “it eats, and sleeps, and has
+senses such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship.
+He is somewhat altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome
+person. He has lost his companions, and is wandering about to
+find them.”
+
+Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like
+her father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful
+young prince; and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this
+desert place, and from the strange sounds he had heard, expecting
+nothing but wonders, thought be was upon an enchanted island, and
+that Miranda was the goddess of the place, and as such he began
+to address her.
+
+She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid and
+was going to give him an account of herself, when Prospero
+interrupted her. He was well pleased to find they admired each
+other, for he plainly perceived they had (as we say) fallen in
+love at first sight: but to try Ferdinand’s constancy, he
+resolved to throw some difficulties in their way: therefore,
+advancing forward, be addressed the prince with a stern air,
+telling him, he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him
+who was the lord of it. “Follow me,” said be. “I will tie your
+neck and feet together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish,
+withered roots, and husks of acorns shall be your food.”
+
+“No,” said Ferdinand, “I will resist such entertainment till I
+see a more powerful enemy,” and drew his sword; but Prospero,
+waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where he stood, so
+that he had no power to move.
+
+Miranda hung upon her father, saying: “Why are you so ungentle?
+Have pity, I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever
+saw, and to me he seems a true one.”
+
+“Silence!” said the father. “One word more will make me chide
+you, girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are
+no more such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell
+you, foolish girl, most men as far excel this as he does
+Calliban.” This he said to prove his daughter’s constancy; and
+she replied:
+
+“My affections are most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier
+man.”
+
+“Come on, young man,” said Prospero to the prince; “you have no
+power to disobey -me.”
+
+“I have not indeed,” answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that it was by
+magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was astonished to
+kind himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero: looking back on
+Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went after Prospero
+into the cave: “My spirits are all bound up as if I were in a dream; but
+this man’s threats, and the weakness which I feel, would seem light to
+me if from my prison I might once a day behold this fair maid.”
+
+Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell: he soon
+brought out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking
+care to let his daughter know the hard labour he had imposed on him, and
+then pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both.
+
+Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood.
+Kings’ sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after
+found her lover almost dying with fatigue. “Alas!” said she, “do not
+work so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three
+hours; pray rest yourself.”
+
+“O my dear lady,” said Ferdinand, “I dare not. I must finish my task
+before I take my rest.”
+
+“If you will sit down,” said Miranda, “I will carry your logs the
+while.” But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to. Instead of a help
+Miranda became a hindrance, for they began a long conversation, so that
+the business of log-carrying went on very slowly.
+
+Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his
+love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing
+by them invisible, to overhear what they said.
+
+Ferdinand inquired her name, which she told, saying it was against her
+father’s express command she did so.
+
+Prospero only smiled at this first instance of his daughter’s
+disobedience, for having by his magic art caused his daughter to fall in
+love so suddenly, he was not angry that she showed her love by
+forgetting to obey his commands. And he listened well pleased to a long
+speech of Ferdinand’s, in which he professed to love her above all the
+ladies he ever saw.
+
+In answer to his praises of her beauty, which he said exceeded all the
+women in the world, she replied: “I do not remember the face of any
+woman, nor have I seen any more men than you, my good friend, and my
+dear father. How features are abroad, I know not: but, believe me, sir,
+I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can my
+imagination form any shape but yours that I could like. But, sir, I fear
+I talk to you too freely, and my father’s precepts I forget.”
+
+At this Prospero smiled, and nodded his head, as much as to say: “This
+goes on exactly as I could wish; my girl will be queen of Naples.”
+
+And then Ferdinand, in another fine long speech (for young princes speak
+in courtly phrases), told the innocent Miranda he was heir to the crown
+of Naples, and that she should be his queen.
+
+“Ah! sir,” said she, “I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of. I will
+answer you in plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if you will marry
+me.”
+
+Prospero prevented Ferdinand’s thanks by appearing visible before them.
+
+“Fear nothing, my child,” said he; “I have overheard, and approve of all
+you have said. And, Ferdinand, if I have too severely used you, I will
+make you rich amends, by giving you my daughter. All your vexations were
+but trials of your love, and you have nobly stood the test. Then as my
+gift, which your true love has worthily purchased, take my daughter, and
+do not smile that I boast she is above all praise.” He then, telling
+them that he had business which required his presence, desired they
+would sit down and talk together till he returned; and this command
+Miranda seemed not at all disposed to disobey.
+
+When Prospero left them, he called his spirit Ariel, who quickly
+appeared before him, eager to relate what he had done with Prospero’s
+brother and the king of Naples. Ariel said he had left them almost out
+of their senses with fear, at the strange things he had caused them to
+see and hear. When fatigued with wandering about, and famished for want
+of food, he had suddenly set before them a delicious banquet, and then,
+just as,they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the
+shape of a harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast vanished
+away. Then, to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy spoke to them,
+reminding them of their cruelty in driving Prospero from his dukedom,
+and leaving him and his infant daughter to perish in the sea, saying,
+that for this cause these terrors were suffered to afflict them.
+
+The King of Naples, and Antonio the false brother, repented the
+injustice they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he
+was certain their penitence was sincere, and that he, though a
+spirit, could not but pity them.
+
+“Then bring them hither, Ariel,” said Prospero: “if you, who are
+but a spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a
+human being like themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them
+quickly, my dainty Ariel.”
+
+Ariel soon returned with the king, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in
+their train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he
+played in the air to draw them on to his master’s presence. This
+Gonzalo was the same who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly
+with books and provisions, when his wicked brother left him, as
+he thought, to perish in an open boat in the sea.
+
+Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses that they did not
+know Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old
+Gonzalo, calling him the preserver of his life; and then his
+brother and the king knew that he was the injured Prospero.
+
+Antonio, with tears and sad words of sorrow and true repentance,
+implored his brother’s forgiveness, and the king expressed his
+sincere remorse for having assisted Antonio to depose his
+brother: and Prospero forgave them; and, upon their engaging to
+restore his dukedom, he said to the King of Naples, “I have a
+gift in store for you, too”; and, opening a door, showed him his
+son Ferdinand playing at chess with Miranda.
+
+Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this
+unexpected meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in
+the storm.
+
+“Oh wonder!” said Miranda, “what noble creatures these are! It
+must surely be a brave world that has such people in it.”
+
+The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty
+and excellent graces of the young Miranda as his son had been.
+“Who is this maid?” said he; “she seems the goddess that has
+parted us, and brought us thus together.”
+
+“No, sir,” answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his father had
+fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first saw
+Miranda, “she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is
+mine; I chose her when I could not ask you, my father, for your
+consent, not thinking you were alive. She is the daughter this
+Prospero, who is the famous Duke of Milan, of whose renown I have
+heard so much, but never saw him till now: of him I have received
+a new life: he has made himself to me a second father, giving me
+this dear lady.”
+
+“Then I must be her father,” said the king; “but, oh, how oddly
+will it sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness.”
+
+“No more of that,” said Prospero: “let us not remember our
+troubles past, since they so happily have ended.” And then
+Prospero embraced his brother, and again assured him of his
+forgiveness; and said that a wise overruling Providence had
+permitted that he should be driven from his poor dukedom of
+Milan, that his daughter might inherit the crown of Naples, for
+that by their meeting in this desert island it had happened that
+the king’s son had loved Miranda.
+
+These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his
+brother, so filled Antonio with shame and remorse that be wept
+and was unable to speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see
+this joyful reconciliation, and prayed for blessings on the young
+couple.
+
+Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor,
+and the sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter
+would accompany them home the next morning. “In the mean time,”
+ says he, “partake of such refreshments as my poor cave affords;
+and for your evening’s entertainment I will relate the history of
+my life from my first landing in this desert island.” He then
+called for Caliban to prepare some food, and set the cave in
+order; and the company were astonished at the uncouth form and
+savage appearance of this ugly monster, who (Prospero said) was
+the only attendant he had to wait upon him.
+
+Before Prospero left the island he dismissed Ariel from service,
+to the great joy of that lively little spirit, who, though he had
+been a faithful servant to his master, was always longing to
+enjoy his free liberty, to wander uncontrolled in the air, like a
+wild bird, under green trees, among pleasant fruits, and
+sweet-smelling flowers.
+
+“My quaint Ariel,” said Prospero to the little sprite when he
+made him free, “I shall miss you; yet you shall have your
+freedom.”
+
+“Thank you, my dear master,” said Ariel; “but give me leave to
+attend your ship home with prosperous gales, before you bid
+farewell to the assistance of your faithful spirit; and then,
+master, when I am free, how merrily I shall live!” Here Ariel
+sang this pretty song:
+
+  “Where the bee sucks, there suck !;
+  In a cowslip’s bell I lie:
+  There I crouch when owls do cry.
+  On the bat’s back I do fly
+  After summer merrily.
+  Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+  Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.”
+
+Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and
+wand, for he was resolved never more to make use of the magic
+art. And having thus overcome his enemies, and being reconciled
+to his brother and the King of Naples, nothing now remained to
+complete his happiness but to revisit his native land, to take
+possession of his dukedom, and to witness the happy nuptials of
+his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the king said should be
+instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to
+Naples. At which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel
+they, after a pleasant voyage, soon arrived.
+
+
+
+
+A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM
+
+
+There was a law in the city of Athens  which gave to its citizens
+the power of  compelling their daughters to marry whomsoever they
+pleased; for upon a daughter’s refusing to marry the man her
+father had chosen to be her husband, the father was empowered by
+this law to cause her to be put to death; but as fathers do not
+often desire the death of their own daughters, even though they
+do happen to prove a little refractory, this law was seldom or
+never put in execution, though perhaps the young ladies of that
+city were not unfrequently threatened by their parents with the
+terrors of it.
+
+There was one instance, however, of an old man, whose name was
+Egeus, who actually did come before Theseus (at that time the
+reigning Duke of Athens), to complain that his daughter whom he
+had commanded to marry Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian
+family, refused to obey him, because she loved another young
+Athenian, named Lysander. Egeus demanded justice of Theseus, and
+desired that this cruel law might be put in force against his
+daughter.
+
+Hermia pleaded in excuse for her disobedience that Demetrius had
+formerly professed love for her dear friend Helena, and that
+Helena loved Demetrius to distraction; but this honorable reason,
+which Hermia gave for not obeying her father’s command, moved not
+the stern Egeus.
+
+Theseus, though a great and merciful prince, had no power to
+alter the laws of his country; therefore he could only give
+Hermia four days to consider of it: and at the end of that time,
+if she still refused to marry Demetrius, she was to be put to
+death.
+
+When Hermia was dismissed from the presence of the duke, she went
+to her lover Lysander and told him the peril she was in, and that
+she must either give him up and marry Demetrius or lose her life
+in four days.
+
+Lysander was in great affliction at hearing these evil tidings;
+but, recollecting that be had an aunt who lived at some distance
+from Athens, and that at the place where she lived the cruel law
+could not be put in force against Hermia (this law not extending
+beyond the boundaries of the city), he proposed to Hermia that
+she should steal out of her father’s house that night, and go
+with him to his aunt’s house, where he would marry her. “I will
+meet you,” said Lysander, “in the wood a few miles without the
+city; in that delightful wood where we have so often walked with
+Helena in the pleasant month of May.”
+
+To this proposal Hermia joyfully agreed; and she told no one of
+her intended flight but her friend Helena. Helena (as maidens
+will do foolish things for love) very ungenerously resolved to go
+and tell this to Demetrius, though she could hope no benefit from
+betraying her friend’s secret but the poor pleasure of following
+her faithless lover to the wood; for she well knew that Demetrius
+would go thither in pursuit of Hermia.
+
+The wood in which Lysander and Hermia proposed to meet was the
+favorite haunt of those little beings known by the name of
+“fairies.”
+
+Oberon the king, and Titania the queen of the fairies, with all
+their tiny train of followers, in this wood held their midnight
+revels.
+
+Between this little king and queen of sprites there happened, at
+this time, a sad disagreement; they never met by moonlight in the
+shady walk of this pleasant wood but they were quarreling, till
+all their fairy elves would creep into acorn-cups and hide
+themselves for fear.
+
+The cause of this unhappy disagreement was Titania’s refusing
+give Oberon a little changeling boy, whose mother had been
+Titania’s friend; and upon her death the fairy queen stole the
+child from its nurse and brought him up in the woods.
+
+The night on which the lovers were to meet in this wood, as
+Titania was walking with some of her maids of honor, she met
+Oberon attended by his train of fairy courtiers.
+
+“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,” said the fairy king.
+
+The queen replied: “What, jealous Oberon, is it you? Fairies,
+skip hence; I have forsworn his company.”
+
+“Tarry, rash fairy,” said Oberon. “Am I not thy lord? Why does
+Titania cross her Oberon? Give me your little changeling boy to
+be my page.”
+
+“Set your heart at rest,” answered the queen; “your whole fairy
+kingdom buys not the boy of me.” She then left her lord in great
+anger.
+
+“Well, go your way,” said Oberon; “before the morning dawns I
+will torment you for this injury.”
+
+Oberon then sent for Puck, his chief favorite and privy
+counselor.
+
+Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow) was a
+shrewd and knavish sprite, that used to play comical pranks in
+the neighboring villages; sometimes getting into the dairies and
+skimming the milk, sometimes plunging his light and airy form
+into the butter-churn, and while he was dancing his fantastic
+shape in the churn, in vain the dairymaid would labor to change
+her cream into butter. Nor had the village swains any better
+success; whenever Puck chose to play his freaks in the brewing
+copper, the ale was sure to be spoiled. When a few good neighbors
+were met to drink some comfortable ale together, Puck would jump
+into the bowl of ale in the likeness of a roasted crab, and when
+some old goody was going to drink he would bob against her lips,
+and spill the ale over her withered chin; and presently after,
+when the same old dame was gravely seating herself to tell her
+neighbors a sad and melancholy story, Puck would slip her
+three-legged stool from under her, and down toppled the poor old
+woman, and then the old gossips would hold their sides and laugh
+at her, and swear they never wasted a merrier hour.
+
+“Come hither, Puck,” said Oberon to this little merry wanderer of
+the night; “fetch me the flower which maids call ‘Love in,
+Idleness’; the juice of that little purple flower laid on the
+eyelids of those who sleep will make them, when they awake, dote
+on the first thing they see. Some of the juice of that flower I
+will drop on the eyelids of my Titania when she is asleep; and
+the first thing she looks upon when she opens her eyes she will
+fall in love with, even though it be a lion or a bear, a meddling
+monkey or a busy ape; and before I will take this charm from off
+her sight, which I can do with another charm I know of, I will
+make her give me that boy to be my page.”
+
+Puck, who loved mischief to his heart, was highly diverted with
+this intended frolic of his master, and ran to seek the flower;
+and while Oberon was waiting the return of Puck he observed
+Demetrius and Helena enter the wood: he overheard Demetrius
+reproaching Helena for following him, and after many unkind words
+on his part, and gentle expostulations from Helena, reminding him
+of his former love and professions of true faith to her, he left
+her (as he said) to the mercy of the wild beasts, and she ran
+after him as swiftly as she could.
+
+The fairy king, who was always friendly to true lovers, felt
+great compassion for Helena; and perhaps, as Lysander said they
+used to walk by moonlight in this pleasant wood, Oberon might
+have seen Helena in those happy times when she was beloved by
+Demetrius. However that might be, when Puck returned with the
+little purple flower, Oberon said to his favorite: “Take a part
+of this flower; there has been a sweet Athenian lady here, who is
+in love with a disdainful youth; if you find him sleeping, drop
+some of the love-juice in his eyes, but contrive to do it when
+she is near him, that the first thing he sees when he awakes may
+be this despised lady. You will know the man ]by the Athenian
+garments which be wears.”
+
+Puck promised to manage this matter very dexterously: and then
+Oberon went, unperceived by Titania, to her bower, where she was
+preparing to go to rest. Her fairy bower was a bank, where grew
+wild thyme, cowslips, and sweet violets, under a canopy of
+woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine. There Titania always slept
+some part of the night; her coverlet the enameled skin of a
+snake, which, though a small mantle, was wide enough to wrap a
+fairy in.
+
+He found Titania giving orders to her fairies, how they were to
+employ themselves while she slept. “Some of you,” said her
+Majesty, “must kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, and some wage
+war with the bats for their leathern wings, to make my small
+elves coats; and some of you keep watch that the clamorous owl,
+that nightly boots, come not near me: but first sing me to
+sleep.” Then they began to sing this song:
+
+  “You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
+    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+  Newts and blind-worms do no wrong;
+    Come not near our fairy queen:
+
+  “Philomel, with melody,
+  Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+  Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
+  Come our lovely lady nigh;
+  So, good night, with lullaby.”
+
+When the fairies had sung their queen asleep with this pretty
+lullaby, they left her to perform the important services she had
+enjoined them. Oberon then softly drew near his Titania and
+dropped some of the love-juice on her eyelids, saying:
+
+  “What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+   Do it for thy true-love take.”
+
+But to return to Hermia, who made her escape out of her father’s
+house that night, to avoid the death she was doomed to for
+refusing to marry Demetrius. When she entered the wood, she found
+her dear Lysander waiting for her, to conduct her to his aunt’s
+house; but before they had passed half through the wood Hermia
+was so much fatigued that Lysander, who was very careful of this
+dear lady, who had proved her affection for him even by hazarding
+her life for his sake, persuaded her to rest till morning on a
+bank of soft moss, and, lying down himself on the ground at some
+little distance, they soon fell fast asleep. Here they were found
+by Puck, who, seeing a handsome young man asleep, and perceiving
+that his clothes were made in the Athenian fashion, and that a
+pretty lady was sleeping near him, concluded that this must be
+the Athenian maid and her disdainful lover whom Oberon had sent
+him to seek; and he naturally enough conjectured that, as they
+were alone together, she must be the first thing he would see
+when he awoke; so, without more ado, he proceeded to pour some of
+the juice of the little purple flower into his eyes. But it so
+fell out that Helena came that way, and, instead of Hermia, was
+the first object Lysander beheld when he opened his eyes; and
+strange to relate, so powerful was the love-charm, all his love
+for Hermia vanished away and Lysander fell in love with Helena.
+
+Had he first seen Hermia when he awoke, the blunder Puck
+committed would have been of no consequence, for he could not
+love that faithful lady too well; but for poor Lysander to be
+forced by a fairy love-charm to forget his own true Hernia, and
+to run after another lady, and leave Hermia asleep quite alone in
+a wood at midnight, was a sad chance indeed.
+
+Thus this misfortune happened. Helena, as has been before
+related, endeavored to keep pace with Demetrius when he ran away
+so rudely from her; but she could not continue this unequal race
+long, men being always better runners in a long race than ladies.
+Helena soon lost sight of Demetrius; and as she was wandering
+about, dejected and forlorn, she arrived at the place where
+Lysander was sleeping. “Ah!” said she, “this is Lysander lying on
+the ground. Is he dead or asleep?” Then, gently touching him, she
+said, “Good sir, if you are alive, awake.” Upon this Lysander
+opened his eyes, and, the love-charm beginning to work,
+immediately addressed her in terms of extravagant love and
+admiration, telling her she as much excelled Hermia in beauty as
+a dove does a raven, and that be would run through fire for her
+sweet sake; and many more such lover-like speeches. Helena,
+knowing Lysander was her friend Hermia’s lover, and that he was
+solemnly engaged to marry her, was in the utmost rage when she
+heard herself addressed in this manner; for she thought (as well
+she might) that Lysander was making a jest of her. “Oh!” said
+she, “why was I born to be mocked and scorned by every one? Is it
+not enough, is it not enough, young man, that I can never get a
+sweet look or a kind word from Demetrius; but you, sir, must
+pretend in this disdainful manner to court me? I thought,
+Lysander, you were a lord of more true gentleness.” Saying these
+words in great anger, she ran away; and Lysander followed her,
+quite forgetful of his own Hermia, who was still asleep.
+
+When Hermia awoke she was in a sad fright at finding herself
+alone. She wandered about the wood, not knowing what was become
+of Lysander, or which way to go to seek for him. In the mean time
+Demetrius, not being able to find Hermia and his rival Lysander,
+and fatigued with his fruitless search, was observed by Oberon
+fast asleep. Oberon had learned by some questions he had asked of
+Puck that he had applied the lovecharm to the wrong person’s
+eyes; and now, having found the person first intended, he touched
+the eyelids of the sleeping Demetrius with the love-juice, and he
+instantly awoke; and the first thing he saw being Helena, he, as
+Lysander had done before, began to address love-speeches to her;
+and just at that moment Lysander, followed by Hermia (for through
+Puck’s unlucky mistake it was now become Hermia’s turn to run
+after her lover), made his appearance; and then Lysander and
+Demetrius, both speaking together, made love to Helena, they
+being each one under the influence of the same potent charm.
+
+The astonished Helena thought that Demetrius, Lysander, and her
+once dear friend Hermia were all in a plot together to make a
+jest of her.
+
+Hermia was as much surprised as Helena; she knew not why Lysander
+and Demetrius, who both before loved her, were now become the
+lovers of Helena, and to Hermia the matter seemed to be no jest.
+
+The ladies, who before bad always been the dearest of friends,
+now fell to high words together.
+
+“Unkind. Hermia,” said Helena, “it is you have set Lysander on
+to vex me with mock praises; and your other lover, Demetrius, who
+used almost to spurn me with his foot, have you not bid him call
+me goddess, nymph, rare, precious, and celestial? He would not
+speak thus to me, whom he hates, if you did not set him on to
+make a jest of me. Unkind Hermia, to join with men in scorning
+your poor friend. Have you forgot our schoolday friendship? How
+often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one cushion, both singing
+one song, with our needles working the same flower, both on the
+same sampler wrought; growing up together in fashion of a double
+cherry, scarcely seeming parted!  Hermia, it is not friendly in
+you, it is not maidenly to join with men in scorning your poor
+friend.”
+
+“I am amazed at your passionate words,” said Hermia: “I scorn you
+not; it seems you scorn me.”
+
+“Aye, do,” returned Helena, “persevere, counterfeit serious
+looks, and make mouths at me when I turn my back; then wink at
+each other, and hold the sweet jest up. If you had any pity,
+grace, or manners, you would not use me thus.”
+
+While Helena and Hermia were speaking these angry words to each
+other, Demetrius and Lysander left them, to fight together in the
+wood for the love of Helena.
+
+When they found the gentlemen had left them, they departed, and
+once more wandered weary in the wood in search of their lovers.
+
+As soon as they were gone the fairy king, who with little Puck
+had been listening to their quarrels, said to him, “This is your
+negligence, Puck; or did you do this wilfully?”
+
+“Believe me, king of shadows,” answered Puck, “it was a mistake.
+Did not you tell me I should know the man by his Athenian
+garments? However, I am not sorry this has happened, for I think
+their jangling makes excellent sport.”
+
+“You heard,” said Oberon, “that Demetrius and Lysander are gone
+to seek a convenient place to fight in. I command you to overhang
+the night with a thick fog, and lead these quarrelsome lovers so
+astray in’ the dark that they shall not be able to find each
+other. Counterfeit each of their voices to the other, and with
+bitter taunts provoke them to follow you, while they think it is
+their rival’s tongue they hear. See you do this, till they are so
+weary they can go no farther; and when you find they are asleep,
+drop the juice of this other flower into Lysander’s eyes, and
+when he awakes he will forget his new love for Helena, and return
+to his old passion for Hermia; and then the two fair ladies may
+each one be happy with the man she loves and they will think all
+that has passed a vexatious dream. About this quickly, Puck, and
+I will go and see what sweet love my Titania has found.”
+
+Titania was still sleeping, and Oberon, seeing a clown near her
+who had lost his way in the wood and was likewise asleep, “This
+fellow,” said he, “shall be my Titania’s true love”; and clapping
+an ass’s head over the clown’s, it seemed to fit him as well as
+if it had grown upon his own shoulders. Though Oberon fixed the
+ass’s head on very gently, it awakened him, and, rising up,
+unconscious of what Oberon had done to him, he went toward the
+bower where the fairy queen slept.
+
+“Ah I what angel is that I see?” said Titania, opening her eyes,
+and the juice of the little purple flower beginning to take
+effect. “Are you as wise as you are beautiful?”
+
+“Why, mistress,” said the foolish clown, “if I have wit enough to
+find the way out of this wood, I have enough to serve my turn.”
+
+“Out of the wood do not desire to go,” said the enamoured queen.
+“I am a spirit of no common rate. I love you. Go with me, and I
+will give you fairies to attend upon you.”
+
+She then called four of her fairies. Their names were
+Peas-blossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed.
+
+“Attend,” said the queen, “upon this sweet gentleman. Hop in his
+walks and gambol in his sight; feed him with grapes and apricots,
+and steal for him the honey-bags from the bees. Come, sit with
+me,” said she to the clown., “and let me play with your amiable
+hairy cheeks, my beautiful ass! and kiss your fair large ears, my
+gentle joy.”
+
+“Where is Peas-blossom?” said the ass-headed clown, not much
+regarding the fairy queen’s courtship, but very proud of his new
+attendants.
+
+“Here, sir,” said little Peas-blossom.
+
+“Scratch my head,” said the clown. “Where is Cobweb?”
+
+“Here, sir,” said Cobweb.
+
+“Good Mr. Cobweb,” said the foolish clown, “kill me the red
+humblebee on the top of that thistle yonder; and, good Mr.
+Cobweb, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in
+the action, Mr. Cobweb, and take care the honey-bag break not; I
+should be sorry to have you overflown with a honey-bag. Where is
+Mustard-seed?”
+
+“Here, sir, “ said Mustard-seed. “What is your will?”
+
+“Nothing,” said the clown, “good Mr. Mustard-seed, but to help
+Mr. Peas-blossom to scratch; I must go to a barber’s, Mr.
+Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.”
+
+“My sweet love,” said the queen, “what will you have to eat? I
+have a venturous fairy shall seek the squirrel’s hoard, and fetch
+you some new nuts.”
+
+“I had rather have a handful of dried peas,”’ said the clown, who
+with his ass’s head had got an ass’s appetite. “But, I pray, let
+none of your people disturb me, for I have a mind to sleep.”
+
+“Sleep, then,” said the queen, “and I will wind you in my arms.
+Oh, how I love you! how I dote upon you!”
+
+When the fairy king saw the clown sleeping in the arms of his
+queen, he advanced within her sight, and reproached her with
+having lavished her favors upon an ass.
+
+This she could not deny, as the clown was then sleeping within
+her arms, with his ass’s head crowned by her with flowers.
+
+When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again demanded the
+changeling boy; which she, ashamed of being discovered by her
+lord with her new favorite, did not dare to refuse him.
+
+Oberon, having thus obtained the little boy he had so long wished
+for to be his page, took pity on the disgraceful situation into
+which, by his merry contrivance, he had brought his Titania, and
+threw some of the juice of the other flower into her eyes; and
+the fairy queen immediately recovered her senses, and wondered at
+her late dotage, saying how she now loathed the sight of the
+strange monster.
+
+Oberon likewise took the ass’s head from off the clown, and left
+him to finish his nap with his own fool’s head upon his
+shoulders.
+
+Oberon and his Titania being now perfectly reconciled, he related
+to her the history of the lovers and their midnight quarrels, and
+she agreed to go with him and see the end of their adventures.
+
+The fairy king and queen found the lovers and their fair ladies,
+at no great distance from one another, sleeping on a grass-plot;
+for Puck, to make amends for his former mistake, had contrived
+with the utmost diligence to bring them all to the same spot,
+unknown to one another; and he bad carefully removed the charm
+from off the eyes of Lysander with the antidote the fairy king
+gave to him.
+
+Hermia first awoke, and, finding her lost Lysander asleep so near
+her, was looking at him and wondering at his strange inconstancy.
+Lysander presently opening his eyes, and seeing his dear Hermia,
+recovered his reason which the fairy charm had before clouded,
+and with his reason his love for Hermia; and they began to talk
+over the adventures of the night, doubting if these things had
+really happened, or if they bad both been dreaming the same
+bewildering dream.
+
+Helena and Demetrius were by this time awake; and a sweet sleep
+having quieted Helena’s disturbed and angry spirits, she listened
+with delight to the professions of love which Demetrius still
+made to her, and which, to her surprise as well as pleasure, she
+began to perceive were sincere.
+
+These fair night-wandering ladies, now no longer rivals, became
+once more true friends; all the unkind words which had passed
+were forgiven, and they calmly consulted together what was best
+to be done in their present situation. It was soon agreed that,
+as Demetrius bad given up his pretensions to Hermia, he should
+endeavor to prevail upon her father to revoke the cruel sentence
+of death which had been passed against her. Demetrius was
+preparing to return to Athens for this friendly purpose, when
+they were surprised with the sight of Egeus, Hermia’s father, who
+came to the wood in pursuit of his runaway daughter.
+
+When Egeus understood that Demetrius would not now marry his
+daughter, he no longer opposed her marriage with Lysander,  but
+gave his consent that they should be wedded on the fourth day
+from that time, being the same day on which Hermia had been
+condemned to lose her life; and on that same day Helena joyfully
+agreed to marry her beloved and now faithful Demetrius.
+
+The fairy king and queen, who were invisible spectators of this
+reconciliation, and now saw the happy ending of the lovers’
+history, brought about through the good offices of Oberon,
+received so much pleasure that these kind spirits resolved to
+celebrate the approaching nuptials with sports and revels
+throughout their fairy kingdom.
+
+And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their
+pranks, as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to
+think that they have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these
+adventures were visions which they saw in their sleep. And I hope
+none of my readers will be so unreasonable as to be offended with
+a pretty, harmless Midsummer Night’s Dream.
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER’S TALE
+
+
+Leontes, King of Sicily, and his queen,  the beautiful and
+virtuous Hermione,  once lived in the greatest harmony together.
+So happy was Leontes in the  love of this excellent lady that he
+had  no wish ungratified, except that he some times desired to
+see again and to present  to his queen his old companion and
+schoolfellow, Polixenes, King of Bohemia. Leontes and Polixenes
+were brought up together from their infancy, but being, by the
+death of their fathers, called to reign over their respective
+kingdoms, they had not met for many years, though they frequently
+interchanged gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
+
+At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came from
+Bohemia to the Sicilian court, to make his friend Leontes a
+visit.
+
+At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to Leontes. He
+recommended the friend of his youth to the queen’s particular
+attention, and seemed in the presence of his dear friend and old
+companion to have his felicity quite completed. They talked over
+old times; their school-days and their youthful pranks were
+remembered, and recounted to Hermione, who always took a cheerful
+part in these conversations.
+
+When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart,
+Hermione, at the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to
+his that Polixenes would prolong his visit.
+
+And now began this good queen’s sorrow; for Polixenes, refusing
+to stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione’s
+gentle and persuasive words to put off his departure for some
+weeks longer. Upon this, although Leontes had so long known the
+integrity and honorable principles of his friend Polixenes, as
+well as the excellent disposition of his virtuous queen, he was
+seized with an ungovernable jealousy. Every attention Hermione
+showed to Polixenes, though by her husband’s particular desire
+and merely to please him, increased the unfortunate king’s
+jealousy; and from being a loving and a true friend, and the best
+and fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage and
+inhuman monster. Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his
+court, and telling him of the suspicion he entertained, he
+commanded him to poison Polixenes.
+
+Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that the jealousy of
+Leontes had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of
+poisoning Polixenes, acquainted him with the king his master’s
+orders, and agreed to escape with him out of the Sicilian
+dominions; and Polixenes, with the assistance of Camillo,
+arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia, where Camillo lived
+from that time in the king’s court and became the chief friend
+and favorite of Polixenes.
+
+The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more;
+he went to the queen’s apartment, where the good lady was sitting
+with her little son Mamillius, who was just beginning to tell one
+of his best stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered
+and, taking the child away, sent Hermione to prison.
+
+Mamillius, though but a very young child, loved his mother
+tenderly; and when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was
+taken from him to be put into a prison, he took it deeply to
+heart and drooped and pined away by slow degrees, losing his
+appetite and his sleep, till it was thought his grief would kill
+him.
+
+The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded
+Cleomenes and Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there
+to inquire of the oracle at the temple of Apollo if his queen had
+been unfaithful to him.
+
+When Hermione had been a short time in prison she was brought to
+bed of a daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from
+the sight of her pretty baby, and she said to it, “My poor little
+prisoner, I am as innocent as you are.”
+
+Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited Paulina, who was
+the wife of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the lady Paulina
+heard her royal mistress was brought to bed she went to the
+prison where Hermione was confined; and she said to Emilia, a
+lady who attended upon Hermione, “I pray you, Emilia, tell the
+good queen, if her Majesty dare trust me with her little babe, I
+will carry it to the king, its father: we do not know how he may
+soften at the sight of his innocent child.”
+
+“Most worthy madam,” replied Emilia, “I will acquaint the queen
+with your noble offer. She was wishing to-day that she had any
+friend who would venture to present the child to the king.”
+
+“And tell her,” said Paulina. “that I will speak boldly to
+Leontes in her defense.”
+
+“May you be forever blessed,” said Emilia, “for your kindness to
+our gracious queen!”
+
+Emilia then went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to
+the care of Paulina, for she had feared that no one would dare
+venture to present the child to its father.
+
+Paulina took the new-born infant and, forcing herself into the
+king’s presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king’s
+anger, endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its
+father’s feet; and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in
+defense of Hermione, and she reproached him severely for his
+inhumanity and implored him to have mercy on his innocent wife
+and child. But Paulina’s spirited remonstrances only aggravated
+Leontes’s displeasure, and he ordered her husband Antigonus to
+take her from his presence.
+
+When Paulina went away she left the little baby at its father’s
+feet, thinking when he was alone with it he would look upon it
+and have pity on its helpless innocence.
+
+The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was she gone than
+the merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina’s husband,
+to take the child and carry it out to sea and leave it upon some
+desert shore to perish.
+
+Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of
+Leontes; for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and
+put out to sea, intending to leave it on the first desert coast
+he could find.
+
+So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of Hermione that he
+would not wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion; whom he had
+sent to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the
+queen was recovered from her lying-in, and from the grief for the
+loss of her precious baby, he had her brought to a public trial
+before all the lords and nobles of his court. And when all the
+great lords, the judges, and all the nobility of the land were
+assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy queen was
+standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their
+judgment, Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly and presented
+to the king the answer of the oracle, sealed up; and Leontes
+commanded the seal to be broken, and the words of the oracle to
+be read aloud, and these were the words:
+
+“Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true
+subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live
+without an heir if that which is lost be not found.”
+
+The king would give no credit to the words of the oracle. He said
+it was a falsehood invented by the queen’s friends, and be
+desired the judge to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while
+Leontes was speaking a man entered and told him that the Prince
+Mamillius, hearing his mother was to be tried for her life,
+struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.
+
+Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear, affectionate
+child, who had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune,
+fainted; and Leontes, pierced to the heart by the news, began to
+feel pity for his unhappy queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the
+ladies who were her attendants, to take her away and use means
+for her recovery. Paulina soon returned and told the king that
+Hermione was dead.
+
+When Leontes heard that the queen was dead he repented of his
+cruelty to her; and now that he thought his ill-usage had broken
+Hermione’s heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought
+the words of the oracle were true, as he knew “if that which was
+lost was not found,” which he concluded was his young daughter,
+he should be without an heir, the young Prince Mamillius being
+dead; and he would give his kingdom now to recover his lost
+daughter. And Leontes gave himself up to remorse and passed many
+years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
+
+The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to
+sea was driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very
+kingdom of the good King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed and
+here he left the little baby.
+
+Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had
+left his daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear
+came out of the woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment
+on him for obeying the wicked order Leontes.
+
+The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione
+had made it very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus
+had pinned a paper to its mantle, and the name of “Perdita”
+ written thereon, and words obscurely intimating its high birth
+and untoward fate.
+
+This poor, deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane
+man, and so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who
+nursed it tenderly. But poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal
+the rich prize be had found; therefore he left that part of the
+country, that no one might know where he got his riches, and with
+part of Perdita’s jewels be bought herds of sheep and became a
+wealthy shepherd. He brought up Perdita as his own child, and she
+knew not she was any other than a shepherd’s daughter.
+
+The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no
+better education than that of a shepherd’s daughter, yet so did
+the natural graces she inherited from her royal mother shine
+forth in her untutored mind that no one, from her behavior, would
+have known she had not been brought up in her father’s court.
+
+Polixenes, the King of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was
+Florizel. As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd’s
+dwelling he saw the old man’s supposed daughter; and the beauty,
+modesty, and queenlike deportment of Perdita caused him instantly
+to fall in love with her. He soon, under the name of Doricles,
+and in the disguise of a private gentleman, became a constant
+visitor at the old shepherd’s house. Florizel’s frequent absences
+from court alarmed Polixenes; and setting people to watch his
+son, he discovered his love for the shepherd’s fair daughter.
+
+Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had
+preserved his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he
+would accompany him to the house of the shepherd, the supposed
+father of Perdita. Polixenes and Camillo, both in disguise,
+arrived at the old shepherd’s dwelling while they were
+celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and though they were
+strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing, every guest being made
+welcome, they were invited to walk in and join in the general
+festivity.
+
+Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were
+spread and fit great preparations were making for the rustic
+feast. Some lads and lasses were dancing on the green before the
+house, while others of the young men were buying ribands, gloves,
+and such toys of a peddler at the door.
+
+While this busy scene was going forward Florizel and Perdita sat
+quietly in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the
+conversation of each other than desirous of engaging in the
+sports and silly amusements of those around them.
+
+The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could
+know him. He therefore advanced near enough to hear the
+conversation. The simple yet elegant manner in which Perdita
+conversed with his son did not a little surprise Polixenes. He
+said to Camillo:
+
+“This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does
+or says but looks like something greater than herself, too noble
+for this place.”
+
+Camillo replied, “Indeed she is the very queen of curds and
+cream.”
+
+“Pray, my good friend,” said the king to the old shepherd, “what
+fair swain is that talking with your daughter?”
+
+“They call him Doricles,” replied the shepherd. “He says he loves
+my daughter; and, to speak truth, there is not a kiss to choose
+which loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her, she
+shall bring him that he little dreams of,” meaning the remainder
+of Perdita’s jewels; which, after he had bought herds of sheep
+with part of them, he had carefully hoarded up for her marriage
+portion.
+
+Polixenes then addressed his son. “How now, young man!” said he.
+“Your heart seems full of something that takes off your mind from
+feasting. When I was young I used to load my love with presents;
+but you have let the peddler go and have bought your lass no
+toy.”
+
+The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king
+his father, replied, “Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the
+gifts which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.”
+ Then turning to Perdita, he said to her, “Oh, hear me, Perdita,
+before this ancient gentleman, who it seems was once himself a
+lover; he shall hear what I profess.” Florizel then called upon
+the old stranger to be a witness to a solemn promise of marriage
+which be made to Perdita, saying to Polixenes, “I pray you, mark
+our contract.”
+
+“Mark your divorce, young sir,” said the king, discovering
+himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract
+himself to this low-born maiden, calling Perdita “shepherd’s
+brat, sheep-hook,” and other disrespectful names, and threatening
+if ever she suffered his son to see her again, he would put her,
+and the old shepherd her father, to a cruel death.
+
+The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to
+follow him with Prince Florizel.
+
+When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was
+roused by Polixenes’s reproaches, said, “Though we are all
+undone, I was not much afraid; and once or twice I was about to
+speak and tell him plainly that the selfsame sun which shines
+upon his palace hides not his face from our cottage, but looks on
+both alike.” Then sorrowfully she said, “But now I am awakened
+from this dream, I will queen it no further. Leave me, sir. I
+will go milk my ewes and weep.”
+
+The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and
+propriety of Perdita’s behavior; and, perceiving that the young
+prince was too deeply in love to give up his mistress at the
+command of his royal father, he thought of a way to befriend the
+lovers and at the same time to execute a favorite scheme he had
+in his mind.
+
+Camillo had long known that Leontes, the King of Sicily, was
+become a true penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored
+friend of King Polixenes, he could not help wishing once more to
+see his late royal master and his native home. He therefore
+proposed to Florizel and Perdita that they should accompany him
+to the Sicilian court, where he would engage Leontes should
+protect them till, through his mediation, they could obtain
+pardon from Polixenes and his consent to their marriage.
+
+To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
+everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to
+go along with them.
+
+The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita’s jewels, her
+baby clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her
+mantle.
+
+After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the
+old shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes,
+who still mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received
+Camillo with great kindness and gave a cordial welcome to Prince
+Florizel. But Perdita, whom Florizel introduced as his princess,
+seemed to engross all Leontes’s attention. Perceiving a
+resemblance between her and his dead queen Hermione, his grief
+broke out afresh, and he said such a lovely creature might his
+own daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed her.
+
+“And then, too,” said he to Florizel, “I lost the society and
+friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more than my
+life once again to look upon.”
+
+When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of
+Perdita, and that he had lost a daughter who was exposed in
+infancy, he fell to comparing the time when he found the little
+Perdita with the manner of its exposure, the jewels and other
+tokens of its high birth; from all which it was impossible for
+him not to conclude that Perdita and the king’s lost daughter
+were the same.
+
+Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were
+present when the old shepherd related to the king the manner in
+which he had found the child, and also the circumstance of
+Antigonus’s death, he having seen the bear seize upon him. He
+showed the rich mantle in which Paulina remembered Hermione had
+wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which she remembered
+Hermione had tied about Perdita’s neck; and he gave up the paper
+which Paulina knew to be the writing of her husband. It could not
+be doubted that Perdita was Leontes’s own daughter. But, oh, the
+noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for her husband’s
+death and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the king’s heir,
+his long-lost daughter being found!  When Leontes heard that
+Perdita was his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that
+Hermione was not living to behold her child made him that he
+could say nothing for a long time but “Oh, thy mother, thy
+mother!”
+
+Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene with saying
+to Leontes that she had a statue newly finished by that rare
+Italian master, Julio Romano, which was such a perfect
+resemblance of the queen that would his Majesty be pleased to go
+to her house and look upon it, be would be almost ready to think
+it was Hermione herself. Thither then they all went; the king,
+anxious to see the semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita longing
+to behold what the mother she never saw did look like.
+
+When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous
+statue, so perfectly did it resemble Hermione that all the king’s
+sorrow was renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power
+to speak or move.
+
+“I like your silence, my liege,” said Paulina; “it the more shows
+your wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?”
+
+At length the king said: “Oh, thus she stood, even with such
+majesty, when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was
+not so aged as this statue looks.”
+
+Paulina replied: “So much the more the carver’s excellence, who
+has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had she been
+living now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently you
+think it moves.”
+
+The king then said: “Do not draw the curtain. Would I were dead!
+See, Carmillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to
+have motion in it.”
+
+“I must draw the curtain, my liege,” said Paulina. “You are so
+transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.”
+
+“Oh, sweet Pauline,” said Leontes, “make me think so twenty years
+together! Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
+fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I
+will kiss her.”
+
+“Good my lord, forbear!” said Paulina. “The ruddiness upon her
+lip is wet; you will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I
+draw the curtain?”
+
+“No, not these twenty years,” said Leontes.
+
+Perdita, who all this time bad been kneeling and beholding in
+silent admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now,
+“And so long could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.”
+
+“Either forbear this transport,” said Paulina to Leontes, “and
+let me draw the curtain or prepare yourself for more amazement. I
+can make the statue move indeed; aye, and descend from off the
+pedestal and take you by the hand. But then you will think, which
+I protest I am not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers.”
+
+“What you can make her do,” said the astonished king, “I am
+content to look upon. What you can make her speak I am content to
+hear; for it is as easy to make her speak as move.”
+
+Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had
+prepared for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of
+all the beholders, the statue came down from off the pedestal and
+threw its arms around Leontes’s neck. The statue then began to
+speak, praying for blessings on her husband and on her child, the
+newly found Perdita.
+
+No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes’s neck and blessed
+her husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed
+Hermione herself, the real, the living queen.
+
+Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione’
+thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress’s
+life; and with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since,
+never choosing Leontes should know she was living till she heard
+Perdita was found; for though she had long forgiven the injuries
+which Leontes had done to herself, she could not pardon his
+cruelty to his infant daughter.
+
+His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found,
+the long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of
+his own happiness.
+
+Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard
+on all sides. Now the delighted parents thanked Prince Florizel
+for loving their lowly seeming daughter; and now they blessed the
+good old shepherd for preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo
+and Paulina rejoice that they had lived to see so good an end of
+all their faithful services.
+
+And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
+unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
+
+When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that
+Camillo had long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he
+should find the fugitives here; and, following them with all
+speed, he happened to just arrive at this the happiest moment of
+Leontes’s life.
+
+Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend
+Leontes the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and
+they once more loved each other with all the warmth of their
+first boyish friendship. And there was no fear that Polixenes
+would now oppose his son’s marriage with Perdita. She was no
+“sheep-hook” now, but the heiress of the crown of Sicily.
+
+Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering
+Hermione rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her
+Leontes and her Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.
+
+
+
+
+MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+There lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were
+Hero and  Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the
+niece, of Leonato, the governor of Messina.
+
+Beatrice was of a lively temper and  loved to divert her cousin
+Hero, who  was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly
+sallies. Whatever was going forward was sure to make matter of
+mirth for the light-hearted Beatrice.
+
+At the time the history of these ladies commences some young men
+of high rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on
+their return from a war that was just ended, in which they bad
+distinguished themselves by their great bravery, came to visit
+Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro, the Prince of Arragon, and
+his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence; and with them
+came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of Padua.
+
+These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable
+governor introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their
+old friends and acquaintance.
+
+Benedick, the moment he entered the room, began a lively
+conversation with Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not
+to be left out of any discourse, interrupted Benedick with
+saying:
+
+“I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody
+marks you.”
+
+Benedick was just such another rattlebrain as Beatrice, yet he
+was not pleased at this free salutation; he thought it did not
+become a well-bred lady to be so flippant with her tongue; and he
+remembered, when he was last at Messina, that Beatrice used to
+select him to make her merry jests upon. And as there is no one
+who so little likes to be made a jest of as those who are apt to
+take the same liberty themselves, so it was with Benedick and
+Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former times but a
+perfect war of raillery was kept up between them, and they always
+parted mutually displeased with each other. Therefore, when
+Beatrice stopped him in the middle of his discourse with telling
+him nobody marked what he was saying, Benedick, affecting not to
+have observed before that she was present, said:
+
+“What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?” And now war
+broke out afresh between them, and a long jangling argument
+ensued, during which Beatrice, although she knew be had so well
+approved his valor in the late war, said that she would eat all
+he had killed there; and observing the prince take delight in
+Benedick’s conversation, she called him “the prince’s jester.”
+ This sarcasm sank deeper into the mind of Benedick than all
+Beatrice had said before. The hint she gave him that he was a
+coward, by saying she would eat all he bad killed, he did not
+regard, knowing himself to be a brave man; but there is nothing
+that great wits so much dread as the imputation of buffoonery,
+because the charge comes sometimes a little too near the truth;
+therefore Benedick perfectly hated Beatrice when she called him
+“the prince’s jester.”
+
+The modest lady Hero was silent before the noble guests; and
+while Claudio was attentively observing the improvement which
+time had made in her beauty, and was contemplating the exquisite
+graces of her fine figure (for she was an admirable young lady),
+the prince was highly amused with listening to the humorous
+dialogue between Benedick and Beatrice; and he said in a whisper
+to Leonato:
+
+“This is a pleasant-spirited young lady. She were an excellent
+wife for Benedick.”
+
+Leonato replied to this suggestion, “O my lord, my lord, if they
+were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad!”
+
+But though Leonato thought they would make a discordant pair, the
+prince did not give up the idea of matching these two keen wits
+together.
+
+When the prince returned with Claudio from the palace he found
+that the marriage he had devised between Benedick and Beatrice
+was not the only one projected in that good company, for Claudio
+spoke in such terms of Hero as made the prince guess at what was
+passing in his heart; and he liked it well, and he said to
+Claudio:
+
+“Do you affect Hero?”
+
+To this question Claudio replied, “O my lord, when I was last at
+Messina I looked upon her with a soldier’s eye, that liked, but
+had no leisure for loving; but now, in this happy time of peace,
+thoughts of war have left their places vacant in my mind, and in
+their room come thronging soft and delicate thoughts, all
+prompting me how fair young Hero is, reminding me that I liked
+her before I went to the wars.”
+
+Claudio’s confession of his love for Hero so wrought upon the
+prince that be lost no time in soliciting the consent of Leonato
+to accept of Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato agreed to this
+proposal, and the prince found no great difficulty in persuading
+the gentle Hero herself to listen to the suit of the noble
+Claudio who was a lord of rare endowments and highly
+accomplished, and Claudio, assisted by his kind prince, soon
+prevailed upon Leonato to fix an early day for the celebration of
+his marriage with Hero.
+
+Claudio was to wait but a few days before he was to be married to
+his fair lady; yet he complained of the interval being tedious,
+as indeed most young men are impatient when they are waiting for
+the accomplishment of any event they have set their hearts upon.
+The prince, therefore, to make the time seem short to him,
+proposed as a kind of merry pastime that they should invent some
+artful scheme to make Benedick and Beatrice fall in love with
+each other. Claudio entered with great satisfaction into this
+whim of the prince, and Leonato promised them his assistance, and
+even Hero said she would do any modest office to help her cousin
+to a good husband.
+
+The device the prince invented was that the gentlemen should make
+Benedick believe that Beatrice was in love with him, and that
+Hero should make Beatrice believe that Benedick was in love with
+her.
+
+The prince, Leonato, and Claudio began their operations first;
+and watching upon an opportunity when Benedick was quietly seated
+reading in an arbor, the prince and his assistants took their
+station among the trees behind the arbor, so near that Benedick
+could not choose but hear all they said; and after some careless
+talk the prince said:
+
+“Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me the other
+day--that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick? I
+did never think that lady would have loved any man.”
+
+“No, nor I neither, my lord,” answered Leonato. “It is most
+wonderful that she should so dote on Benedick, whom she in all
+outward behavior seemed ever to dislike.”
+
+Claudio confirmed all this with saying that Hero bad told him
+Beatrice was so in love with Benedick that she would certainly
+die of grief if he could not be brought to love her; which
+Leonato and Claudio seemed to agree was impossible, he having
+always been such a railer against all fair ladies, and in
+particular against Beatrice.
+
+The prince affected to harken to all this with great compassion
+for Beatrice, and he said, “It were good that Benedick were told
+of this.”
+
+“To what end?” said Claudio. “He would but make sport of it, and
+torment the poor lady worse.”
+
+“And if he should,” said the prince, “it were a good deed to hang
+him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and exceeding wise
+in everything but in loving Benedick.”
+
+Then the prince motioned to his companions that they should walk
+on and leave Benedick to meditate upon what he had overheard.
+
+Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this
+conversation; and he said to himself, when be heard Beatrice
+loved him: “Is it possible? Sits the wind in that corner?” And
+when they were gone, he began to reason in this manner with
+himself: “This can be no trick! They were very serious, and they
+have the truth from Hero, and seem to pity the lady. Love me!
+Why, it must be requited! I did never think to marry. But when I
+said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live to
+be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so.
+And wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great
+argument of her folly! But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she
+is a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.”
+
+Beatrice now approached him and said, with her usual tartness,
+“Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.”
+
+Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so politely to
+her before, replied, “Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.”
+ And when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left
+him, Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness
+under the uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud: “If I do
+not take pity on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am
+a Jew. I will go get her picture.”
+
+The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for
+him, it was now Hero’s turn to play her part with Beatrice; and
+for this purpose she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two
+gentlewomen who attended upon her, and she said to Margaret:
+
+“Good Margaret, run to the parlor; there you will find my cousin
+Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio. Whisper in her ear
+that I and Ursula are walking in the orchard and that our
+discourse is all of her. Bid her steal into that pleasant arbor,
+where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, like ungrateful minions,
+forbid the sun to enter.”
+
+This arbor into which Hero desired Margaret to entice Beatrice
+was the very same pleasant arbor where Benedick had so lately
+been an attentive listener.
+
+“I will make her come, I warrant, presently,” said Margaret.
+
+Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her:
+“Now, Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and down this
+alley, and our talk must be only of Benedick, and when I name
+him, let it be your part to praise him more than ever man did
+merit. My talk to you must be how Benedick is in love with
+Beatrice. Now begin; for look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs
+close by the ground, to hear our conference.”
+
+They then began, Hero saying’, as if in answer to something which
+Ursula had said: “No, truly, Ursula. She is too disdainful; her
+spirits are as coy as wild birds of the rock.”
+
+“But are you sure,” said Ursula, “that Benedick loves Beatrice so
+entirely?”
+
+Hero replied, “So says the prince and my lord Claudio, and they
+entreated me to acquaint her with it; but I persuaded them, if
+they loved Benedick, never to let Beatrice know of it.”
+
+“Certainly,” replied Ursula, “it were not good she knew his love,
+lest she made sport of it.”
+
+“Why, to say truth,” said Hero, never yet saw a man, how wise
+soever, or noble, young,@ or rarely featured, but she would
+dispraise him.”
+
+“Sure@ sure, such carping is not commendable,” said Ursula.
+
+“No,” replied Hero, “but who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
+she would mock me into air.”
+
+“Oh, you wrong your cousin!” said Ursula. “She cannot be so much
+without true judgment as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signor
+Benedick.”
+
+“He hath an excellent good name,” said Hero. “Indeed, he is the
+first man in Italy, always excepting my dear Claudio.”
+
+And now, Hero giving her attendant a hint that it was time to
+change the discourse, Ursula said, “And when are you to be
+married, madam?”
+
+Hero then told her that she was to be married to Claudio the next
+day, and desired she would go in with her and look at some new
+attire, as she wished to consult with her on what she would wear
+on the morrow.
+
+Beatrice, who had been listening with breathless eagerness to
+this dialogue, when they went away exclaimed: “What fire is in
+mine ears? Can this be true? Farewell, contempt and scorn, and
+maiden pride, adieu! Benedick, love on! I will requite you,
+taming my wild heart to your loving hand.”
+
+It must have been a pleasant sight to see these old enemies
+converted into new and loving friends, and to behold their first
+meeting after being cheated into mutual liking by the merry
+artifice of the good-humored prince. But a sad reverse in the
+fortunes of Hero must now be thought of. The morrow, which was to
+have been her wedding-day, brought sorrow on the heart of Hero
+and her good father, Leonato.
+
+The prince had a half-brother, who came from the wars along with
+him to Messina. This brother (his name was Don John) was a
+melancholy, discontented man, whose spirits seemed to labor in
+the contriving of villainies. He hated the prince his brother,
+and he hated Claudio because he was the prince’s friend, and
+determined to prevent Claudio’s marriage with Hero, only for the
+malicious pleasure of making Claudio and the prince unhappy, for
+he knew the prince had set his heart upon this marriage almost as
+much as Claudio himself; and to effect this wicked purpose he
+employed one Borachio, a man as bad as himself, whom he
+encouraged with the offer of a great reward. This Borachio paid
+his court to Margaret, Hero’s attendant; and Don John, knowing
+this, prevailed upon him to make Margaret promise to talk with
+him from her lady’s chamber window that night, after Hero was
+asleep, and also to dress herself in Hero’s clothes, the better
+to deceive Claudio into the belief that it was Hero; for that was
+the end he meant to compass by this wicked plot.
+
+Don John then went to the prince and Claudio and told them that
+Hero was an imprudent lady, and that she talked with men from her
+chamber window at midnight. Now this was the evening before the
+wedding, and he offered to take them that night where they should
+themselves hear Hero discoursing with a man from her window; and
+they consented to go along with him, and Claudio said:
+
+“If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her, to-morrow
+in the congregation, where I intended to wed her, there will I
+shame her.”
+
+The prince also said, “And as I assisted you to obtain her, I
+will join with you to disgrace her.”
+
+When Don John brought them near Hero’s chamber that night, they
+saw Borachio standing under the window, and they saw Margaret
+looking out of Hero’s window and heard her talking with Borachio;
+and Margaret being dressed in the same clothes they had seen Hero
+wear, the prince and Claudio believed it was the lady Hero
+herself.
+
+Nothing could equal the anger of Claudio when he had made (as be
+thought) this discovery. All his love for the innocent Hero was
+at once converted into hatred, and he resolved to expose her in
+the church, as he had said he would, the next day; and the
+prince agreed to this, thinking no punishment could be too severe
+for the naughty lady who talked with a man from her window the
+very night before she was going to be married to the noble
+Claudio.
+
+The next day, when they were all met to celebrate the marriage,
+and Claudio and Hero were standing before the priest, and the
+priest, or friar, as he was called, was proceeding to pronounce
+the marriage ceremony, Claudio, in the most passionate language,
+proclaimed the guilt of the blameless Hero, who, amazed at the
+strange words he uttered, said, meekly:
+
+“Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide?”
+
+Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, “My lord, why
+speak not you?”
+
+“What should I speak?” said the prince. “I stand dishonored that
+have gone about to link my dear friend to an unworthy woman.
+Leonato, upon my honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved
+Claudio did see and bear her last night at midnight talk with a
+man at her chamber window.”
+
+Benedick, in astonishment at what he heard, said, “This looks not
+like a nuptial.”
+
+“True, O God!” replied the heart-struck Hero; and then this
+hapless lady sank down in a fainting fit, to all appearance dead.
+
+The prince and Claudio left the church without staying to see if
+Hero would recover, or at all regarding the distress into which
+they had thrown Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made
+them.
+
+Benedick remained and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her
+swoon, saying, “How does the lady?”
+
+“Dead, I think,” replied Beatrice, in great agony, for she loved
+her cousin; and, knowing her virtuous principles, she believed
+nothing of what she had heard spoken against her.
+
+Not so the poor old father. He believed the story of his child’s
+shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she
+lay like one dead before him, wishing she might never more open
+her eyes.
+
+But the ancient friar was a wise man and full of observation on
+human nature, and he had attentively marked the lady’s
+countenance when she heard herself accused and noted a thousand
+blushing shames to start into her face, and then he saw an
+angel-like whiteness bear away those blushes, and in her eye be
+saw a fire that did belie the error that the prince did speak
+against her maiden truth, and he said to the sorrowing father:
+
+“Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observation; trust
+not my age, my reverence, nor my calling, if this sweet lady lie
+not guiltless here under some biting error.”
+
+When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen,
+the friar said to her, “Lady, what man is he you are accused of?”
+
+Hero replied, “They know that do accuse me; I know of none.” Then
+turning to Leonato, she said, “O my father, if you can prove that
+any man has ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I
+yesternight changed words with any creature, refuse me, hate me,
+torture me to death.”
+
+“There is,” said the friar, “some strange misunderstanding in the
+prince and Claudio.” And then he counseled Leonato that he should
+report that Hero was dead; and he said that the deathlike swoon
+in which they had left Hero would make this easy of belief; and
+he also advised him that he should put on mourning, and erect a
+monument for her, and do all rites that appertain to a burial.
+
+“What shall become of this?” said Leonato. “What will this do?”
+
+The friar replied: “This report of her death shall change slander
+into pity; that is some good. But that is not all the good 1 hope
+for. When Claudio shall hear she died upon hearing his words, the
+idea of her life shall sweetly creep into his imagination. Then
+shall he mourn, if ever love had interest in his heart, and wish
+that be had not so accused her; yea, though he thought his
+accusation true.”
+
+Benedick now said, “Leonato, let the friar advise you; and though
+you know how well I love the prince and Claudio, yet on my honor
+I will not reveal this secret to them.”
+
+Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said, sorrowfully, “I am
+so grieved that the smallest twine may lead me.”
+
+The kind friar then led Leonato and Hero away to comfort and
+console them, and Beatrice and Benedick remained alone; and this
+was the meeting from which their friends, who contrived the merry
+plot against them, expected so much diversion; those friends who
+were now overwhelmed with affliction and from whose minds all
+thoughts of merriment seemed forever banished.
+
+Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, “Lady Beatrice,
+have you wept all this while?”
+
+“Yea, and I will weep awhile longer,” said Beatrice.
+
+“Surely,” said. Benedick, “I do believe your fair cousin is
+wronged.”
+
+“Ah,” said Beatrice, “how much might that man deserve of me who
+would right her!”
+
+Benedick then said: “Is there any way to show such friendship? I
+do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that
+strange?”
+
+“It were as possible,” said Beatrice, “for me to say I loved
+nothing in the world so well as you; but believe me not, and yet
+I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for
+my cousin.”
+
+“By my sword,” said Benedick, “you love me, and I protest I love
+you. Come, bid me do anything for you.”
+
+“Kill Claudio,” said Beatrice.
+
+“Ha! not for the world,” said Benedick; for he loved his friend
+Claudio and he believed he had been imposed upon.
+
+“Is not Claudio a villain that has slandered, scorned, and
+dishonored my cousin?” said Beatrice. “Oh, that I were a man!”
+
+“Hear me, Beatrice!” said Benedick.
+
+But Beatrice would hear nothing in Claudio’s defense, and she
+continued to urge on Benedick to revenge her cousin’s wrongs; and
+she said: “Talk with a man out of the window? a proper saying!
+Sweet Hero! she is wronged; she is slandered; she is undone. Oh,
+that I were a man for Claudio’s sake! or that I had any friend
+who would be a man for my sake! But valor is melted into
+courtesies and compliments. I cannot be a man with wishing,
+therefore I will die a woman with grieving.”
+
+“Tarry, good Beatrice,” said Benedick. “By this hand I love you.”
+
+“Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it,” said
+Beatrice.
+
+“Think you on your soul that Claudio has wronged Hero?” asked
+Benedick.
+
+“Yea,” answered Beatrice; CC as sure as I have a thought or a
+soul.”
+
+“Enough,” said Benedick. “I am engaged; I will challenge him. I
+will kiss your hand, and so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall
+render me a dear account! As you hear from me, so think of me.
+Go, comfort your cousin.”
+
+While Beatrice was thus powerfully pleading with Benedick, and
+working his gallant temper, by the spirit of her angry words, to
+engage in the cause of Hero and fight even with his dear friend
+Claudio, Leonato was challenging the prince and Claudio to answer
+with their swords the injury they had done his child, who, be
+affirmed, had died for grief. But they respected his age and his
+sorrow, and they said:
+
+“Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.”
+
+And now came Benedick, and be also challenged Claudio to answer
+with his sword the injury be had done to Hero; and Claudio and
+the prince said to each other:
+
+“Beatrice has set him on to do this.”
+
+Claudio, nevertheless, must have accepted this challenge of
+Benedick had not the justice of Heaven at the moment brought to
+pass a better proof of the innocence of Hero than the uncertain
+fortune of a duel.
+
+While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the challenge of
+Benedick a magistrate brought Borachio as a prisoner before the
+prince. Borachio had been overheard talking with one of his
+companions of the mischief he had been employed by Don John to
+do.
+
+Borachio made a full confession to the prince in Claudio’s
+bearing that it was Margaret dressed in her lady’s clothes that
+he had talked with from the window, whom they had mistaken for
+the lady Hero herself. and no doubt continued on the minds of
+Claudio and the prince of the innocence of Hero. If a suspicion
+had remained it must have been removed by the flight of Don John,
+who, finding his villainies were detected, fled from Messina to
+avoid the just anger of his brother.
+
+The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found he bad
+falsely accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon bearing his
+cruel words; and the memory of his beloved Hero’s image came over
+him in the rare semblance that he loved it first; and the prince,
+asking him if what he heard did not run like iron through his
+soul, he answered that he felt as if he had taken poison while
+Borachio was speaking.
+
+And the repentant Claudio implored forgiveness of the old man
+Leonato for the injury he had done his child; and promised that,
+whatever penance Leonato would lay upon him for his fault in
+believing the false accusation against his betrothed wife, for
+her dear sake he would endure it.
+
+The penance Leonato enjoined him was to marry the next morning a
+cousin of Hero’s, who, he said, was now his heir, and in person
+very like Hero. Claudio, regarding the solemn promise he made to
+Leonato, said he would marry this unknown lady, even though she
+were an Ethiop. But his heart was very sorrowful, and he passed
+that night in tears and in remorseful grief at the tomb which
+Leonato had erected for Hero.
+
+When the morning came the prince accompanied Claudio to the
+church, where the good friar and Leonato and his niece were
+already assembled, to celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato
+presented to Claudio his promised bride. And she wore a mask,
+that Claudio might not discover her face. And Claudio said to the
+lady in the mask:
+
+“Give me your hand, before this holy friar. I am your husband, if
+you will marry me.”
+
+“And when I lived I was your other wife,” said this unknown
+lady; and, taking off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was
+pretended), but Leonato’s very daughter, the lady Hero herself.
+We may be sure that this proved a most agreeable surprise to
+Claudio, who thought her dead, so that be could scarcely for joy
+believe his eyes; and the prince, who was equally amazed at what
+he saw, exclaimed:
+
+“Is not this Hero, Hero that was dead?”’
+
+Leonato replied, “She died, my lord, but while her slander
+lived.”
+
+The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle,
+after the ceremony was ended, and was proceeding to marry them
+when he was interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at
+the same time to Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this
+match, and Benedick challenging her with her love for him, which
+he had learned from Hero, a pleasant explanation took place; and
+they found they had both been tricked into a belief of love,
+which had never existed, and had become lovers in truth by the
+power of a false jest. But the affection which a merry invention
+had cheated them into was grown too powerful to be shaken by a
+serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry, he was
+resolved to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say
+against it; and he merrily kept up the jest and swore to Beatrice
+that he took her but for pity, and because he heard she was dying
+of love for him; and Beatrice protested that she yielded but upon
+great persuasion, and partly to save his life, for she heard he
+was in a consumption. So these two mad wits were reconciled and
+made a match of it, after Claudio and Hero were married; and to
+complete the history, Don John, the contriver of the villainy,
+was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina; and a
+@@brave
+punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented man to see the joy
+and feastings which, by the disappointment of his plots, took
+place in the palace in Messina.
+
+
+
+
+AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+During the time that France was divided into provinces (or
+dukedoms, as they were called) there reigned in one of these
+provinces a usurper who had deposed and banished his elder
+brother, the lawful duke.
+
+The duke who was thus driven from his dominions retired with a
+few faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good
+duke lived with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a
+voluntary exile for his sake, while their land and revenues
+enriched the false usurper; and custom soon made the life of
+careless ease they led here more sweet to them than the pomp and
+uneasy splendor of a courtier’s life. Here they lived like the
+old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many noble youths
+daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time carelessly,
+as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they lay
+along under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the
+playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these
+poor dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of
+the forest, that it grieved them to be forced to kill them to
+supply themselves with venison for their food. When the cold
+winds of winter made the duke feel the change of his adverse
+fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say:
+
+“These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true
+counselors; they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my
+condition; and though they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing
+like so keen as that of unkindness and ingratitude. I find that
+howsoever men speak against adversity, yet some sweet uses are to
+be extracted from it; like the jewel, precious for medicine,
+which is taken from the head of the venomous and despised toad.”
+
+In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from
+everything that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn,
+in that life of his, remote from public haunts, he could find
+tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones,
+and good in everything.
+
+The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the
+usurper, Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still
+retained in his court as a companion for his own daughter, Celia.
+A strict friendship subsisted between these ladies, which the
+disagreement between their fathers did not in the least
+interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her power to make
+amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father in
+deposing the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her
+father’s banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper,
+made Rosalind melancholy, Celia’s whole care was to comfort and
+console her.
+
+One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to
+Rosalind, saying, “I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be
+merry,” a messenger entered from the duke, to tell them that if
+they wished to see a wrestling-match, which was just going to
+begin, they must come instantly to the court before the palace;
+and Celia, thinking it would amuse Rosalind, agreed to go and see
+it.
+
+In those times wrestling, which is only practised now by country
+clowns, was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and
+before fair ladies and princesses. To this wrestling-match,
+therefore, Celia and Rosalind went. They found that it was likely
+to prove a very tragical sight; for a large and powerful man, who
+had been long practised in the art of wrestling and had slain
+many men in contests of this kind, was just going to wrestle with
+a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and inexperience in
+the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be killed.
+
+When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind he said: “How now, daughter
+and niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will
+take little delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity
+to this young man, I would wish to persuade him from wrestling.
+Speak to him, ladies, and see if you can move him.”
+
+The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and
+first Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist
+from the attempt; and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and
+with such feeling consideration for the danger he was about to
+undergo, that, instead of being persuaded by her gentle words to
+forego his purpose, all his thoughts were bent to distinguish
+himself by his courage in this lovely lady’s eyes. He refused the
+request of Celia and Rosalind in such graceful and modest words
+that they felt still more concern for him; he concluded his
+refusal with saying:
+
+“I am sorry to deny such fair and excellent ladies anything. But
+let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial,
+wherein if I be conquered there is one shamed that was never
+gracious; if I am killed, there is one dead that is willing to
+die. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament
+me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; for I only
+fill up a place in the world which may be better supplied when I
+have made it empty.”
+
+And now the wrestling-match began. Celia wished the young
+stranger might not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The
+friendless state which he said he was in, and that he wished to
+die, made Rosalind think that he was, like herself, unfortunate;
+and she pitied him so much, and so deep an interest she took in
+his danger while he was wrestling, that she might almost be said
+at that moment to have fallen in love with him.
+
+The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble
+ladies gave him courage and strength, so that he performed
+wonders; and in the end completely conquered his antagonist, who
+was so much hurt that for a while he was unable to speak or move.
+
+The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill
+shown by this young stranger; and desired to know his name and
+parentage, meaning to take him under his protection.
+
+The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the
+youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+
+Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some
+years; but when he was living he had been a true subject and dear
+friend of the banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard
+Orlando was the son of his banished brother’s friend, all his
+liking for this brave young man was changed into displeasure and
+he left the place in very ill humor. Hating to bear the very name
+of any of his brother’s friends, and yet still admiring the valor
+of the youth, he said, as he went out, that he wished Orlando had
+been the son of any other man.
+
+Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son
+of her father’s old friend; and she said to Celia, “My father
+loved Sir Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was
+his son I would have added tears to my entreaties before he
+should have ventured.”
+
+The ladies then went up to him and, seeing him abashed by the
+sudden displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and
+encouraging words to him; and Rosalind, when they were going
+away, turned back to speak some more civil things to the brave
+young son of her father’s old friend, and taking a chain from off
+her neck, she said:
+
+“Gentleman, wear this for me. I am out of suits with fortune, or
+I would give you a more valuable present.”
+
+When the ladies were alone, Rosalind’s talk being still of
+Orlando, Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love
+with the handsome young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind:
+
+“Is it possible you should fall in love so suddenly?”
+
+Rosalind replied, “The duke, my father, loved his father dearly.”
+
+“But,” said Celia, “does it therefore follow that you should love
+his son dearly?. For then I ought to hate him, for my father
+hated his father; yet do not hate Orlando.”
+
+Frederick, being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys’s
+son, which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had
+among the nobility, and having been for some time displeased with
+his niece because the people praised her for her virtues and
+pitied her for her good father’s sake, his malice suddenly broke
+out against her; and while Celia and Rosalind were talking of
+Orlando, Frederick entered the room and  with looks full of anger
+ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the palace and follow her
+father into banishment, telling Celia, who in vain pleaded for
+her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her account.
+
+“I did not then,” said Celia, “entreat you to let her stay, for I
+was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know her
+worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the same
+instant, learned, played, and eat together, I cannot live out of
+her company.”
+
+Frederick replied: “She is too subtle for you; her smoothness,
+her very silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they
+pity her. You are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more
+bright and virtuous when she is gone; therefore open not your
+lips in her favor, for the doom which I have passed upon her is
+irrevocable.”
+
+When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let
+Rosalind remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany
+her; and, leaving her father’s palace that night, she went along
+with her friend to seek Rosalind’s father, the banished duke, in
+the forest of Arden.
+
+Before they set out Celia considered that it would be unsafe for
+two young ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore;
+she therefore proposed that they should disguise their rank by
+dressing themselves like country maids. Rosalind said it would be
+a still greater protection if one of them was to be dressed like
+a man. And so it was quickly agreed on between them that, as
+Rosalind was the tallest, she should wear the dress of a young
+countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass, and
+that they should say they were brother and sister; and Rosalind
+said she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of
+Aliena.
+
+In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray
+their expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long
+travel; for the forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the
+boundaries of the duke’s dominions.
+
+The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede, as she must now be called) with
+her manly garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The
+faithful friendship Celia had shown in accompanying Rosalind so
+many weary miles made the new brother, in recompense for this
+true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as if he were indeed
+Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the gentle
+village maiden, Aliena.
+
+When at last they came to the forest of Arden they no longer
+found the convenient inns and good accommodations they had met
+with on the road, and, being in want of food and rest, Ganymede,
+who had so merrily cheered his sister with pleasant speeches and
+happy remarks all the way, now owned to Aliena that he was so
+weary he could find in his heart to disgrace his man’s apparel
+and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could go no
+farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect that it was a
+man’s duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel;
+and to seem courageous to his new sister, he said:
+
+“Come, have a good heart, my sister Aliena. We are now at the end
+of our travel, in the forest of Arden.”
+
+But feigned manliness and forced courage would no longer support
+them; for, though they were in the forest of Arden, they knew not
+where to find the duke. And here the travel of these weary ladies
+might have come to a sad conclusion, for they might have lost
+themselves and perished for want of food, but, providentially, as
+they were sitting on the grass, almost dying with fatigue and
+hopeless of any relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way,
+and Ganymede once more tried to speak with a manly boldness,
+saying:
+
+“Shepherd, if love or gold can in this desert place procure us
+entertainment, I pray you bring us where we may rest ourselves;
+for this young maid, my sister, is much fatigued with traveling,
+and faints for want of food.”
+
+The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and
+that his master’s house was just going to be sold, and therefore
+they would find but poor entertainment; but that if they would go
+with him they should be welcome to what there was. They followed
+the man, the near prospect of relief giving them fresh strength,
+and bought the house and sheep of the shepherd, and took the man
+who conducted them to the shepherd’s house to wait on them; and
+being by this means so fortunately provided with a neat cottage,
+and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to stay here till
+they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt.
+
+When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they
+began to like their new way of life, and almost fancied
+themselves the shepherd and shepherdess they feigned to be. Yet
+sometimes Ganymede remembered be had once been the same Lady
+Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave Orlando because be was
+the son of old Sir Rowland, her father’s friend; and though
+Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so
+many weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that
+Orlando was also in the forest of Arden. And in this manner this
+strange event came to pass.
+
+Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he
+died, left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his
+eldest brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give
+his brother a good education and provide for him as became the
+dignity of their ancient house. Oliver proved an unworthy
+brother, and, disregarding the commands of his dying father, he
+never put his brother to school, but kept him at home untaught
+and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the noble
+qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent
+father that, without any advantages of education, he seemed like
+a youth who had been bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so
+envied the fine person and dignified manners of his untutored
+brother that at last he wished to destroy him, and to effect this
+be set on people to persuade him to wrestle with the famous
+wrestler who, as has been before related, had killed so many men.
+Now it was this cruel brother’s neglect of him which made Orlando
+say he wished to die, being so friendless.
+
+When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother
+proved victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he
+swore he would burn the chamber where Orlando slept. He was
+overheard making his vow by one that had been an old and faithful
+servant to their father, and that loved Orlando because he
+resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went out to meet him when he
+returned from the duke’s palace, and when he saw Orlando the
+peril his dear young master was in made him break out into these
+passionate exclamations:
+
+“O my gentle master, my sweet master! O you memory of Old Sir
+Rowland! Why are you virtuous? Why are you gentle, strong, and
+valiant? And why would you be so fond to overcome the famous
+wrestler? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.”
+
+Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the
+matter. And then the old man told him how his wicked brother,
+envying the love all people bore him, and now hearing the fame he
+had gained by his victory in the duke’s palace, intended to
+destroy him by setting fire to his chamber that night, and in
+conclusion advised him to escape the danger he was in by
+instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that
+was the good old man’s name) had brought out with him his own
+little hoard, and he said:
+
+“I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under your
+father and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs
+should become unfit for service. Take that, and He that doth the
+ravens feed be comfort to my age! Here is the gold. All this I
+give to you. Let me be your servant; though I look old I will do
+the service of a younger man in all your business and
+necessities.”
+
+“O good old man!” said Orlando, “how well appears in you the
+constant service of the old world! You are not for the fashion of
+these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful
+wages are spent I shall light upon some means for both our
+maintenance.”
+
+Together, then, this faithful servant and his loved master set
+out; and Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to
+pursue, till they came to the forest of Arden, and there they
+found themselves in the same distress for want of food that
+Ganymede and Aliena had been. They wandered on, seeking some
+human habitation, till they were almost spent with hunger and
+fatigue.
+
+Adam at last said: “O my dear master, I die for want of food. I
+can go no farther!” He then laid himself down, thinking to make
+that place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell.
+
+Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up
+in his arms and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant
+trees; and he said to him: “Cheerly, old Adam. Rest your weary
+limbs here awhile, and do not talk of dying!”
+
+Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to
+arrive at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and
+his friends were just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke
+being seated on the grass, under no other canopy than the shady
+covert of some large trees.
+
+Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword,
+intending to take their meat by force, and said: “Forbear and eat
+no more. I must have your food!”
+
+The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold or if he were
+a rude despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he was
+dying with hunger; and then the duke told him he was welcome to
+sit down and eat with them. Orlando, hearing him speak so gently,
+put up his sword and blushed with shame at the rude manner in
+which he had demanded their food.
+
+“Pardon me, I pray you,” said he. “I thought that all things had
+been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of stern
+command; but whatever men you are that in this desert, under the
+shade of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours
+of time, if ever you have looked on better days, if ever you have
+been where bells have knolled to church, if you have ever sat at
+any good man’s feast, if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a
+tear and know what it is to pity or be pitied, may gentle
+speeches now move you to do me human courtesy!”
+
+The duke replied: “True it is that we are men (as you say) who
+have seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in
+this wild forest, we have lived in towns and cities and have with
+holy bell been knolled to church, have sat at good men’s feasts,
+and from our eyes have wiped the drops which sacred pity has
+engendered; therefore sit you down and take of our refreshment as
+much as will minister to your wants.”
+
+“There is an old poor man,” answered Orlando, “who has limped
+after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with
+two sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied I must
+not touch a bit.”
+
+“Go, find him out and bring him hither,” said the duke. “We will
+forbear to eat till you return.”
+
+Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food;
+and presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms.
+
+And the duke said, “Set down your venerable burthen; you are both
+welcome.”
+
+And they fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived
+and recovered his health and strength again.
+
+The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was
+the son of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, be took him under
+his protection, and Orlando and his old servant lived with the
+duke in the forest.
+
+Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and
+Aliena came there and (as has been before related) bought the
+shepherd’s cottage.
+
+Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of
+Rosalind carved on the trees, and love-sonnets fastened to them,
+all addressed to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this
+could be they met Orlando and they perceived the chain which
+Rosalind had given him about his neck.
+
+Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess
+Rosalind who, by her noble condescension and favor, had so won
+his heart that he passed his whole time in carving her name upon
+the trees and writing sonnets in praise of her beauty; but being
+much pleased with the graceful air of this pretty shepherd-youth,
+he entered into conversation with him, and be thought he saw a
+likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that he had
+none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede
+assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are
+between boys and men, -and with much archness and humor talked to
+Orlando of a certain lover, “who,” said she, “haunts our forest,
+and spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their
+barks; and he hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles,
+all praising this same Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I
+would give him some good counsel that would soon cure him of his
+love.”
+
+Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke,,
+and asked Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked Of. The
+remedy Ganymede proposed, and the counsel he gave him was that
+Orlando should come every day to the cottage where he and his
+sister Aliena dwelt.
+
+“And then,” said Ganymede, “I will feign myself to be Rosalind,
+and you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would
+do if I was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways
+of whimsical ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of
+your love; and this is the way I propose to cure you.”
+
+Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come
+every day to Ganymede’s cottage and feign a playful courtship;
+and every day Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando
+called the shepherd Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked
+over all the fine words and flattering compliments which young
+men delight to use when they court their mistresses. It does not
+appear, however, that Ganymede made any progress in curing
+Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
+
+Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not
+dreaming that Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the
+opportunity it gave him of saying all the fond things he had in
+his heart pleased his fancy almost as well as it did Ganymede’s,
+who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing these fine love-speeches
+were all addressed to the right person.
+
+In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young
+people; and the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede
+happy, let him have his own way and was diverted at the
+mock-courtship, and did not care to remind Ganymede that the Lady
+Rosalind had not yet made herself known to the duke her father,
+whose place of resort in the forest they had learned from
+Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with
+him, and the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede
+answered that he came of as good parentage as he did, which made
+the duke smile, for he did not suspect the pretty shepherd-boy
+came of royal lineage. Then seeing the duke look well and happy,
+Ganymede was content to put off all further explanation for a few
+days longer.
+
+One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man
+lying asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted
+itself about his neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided
+away among the bushes. Orlando went nearer, and then he
+discovered a lioness lie crouching, with her head on the ground,
+with a catlike watch, waiting until the sleeping man awaked (for
+it is said that lions will prey on nothing that is dead or
+sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by Providence to free
+the man from the danger of the snake and lioness; but when
+Orlando looked in the man’s face he perceived that the sleeper
+who was exposed to this double peril was his own brother Oliver,
+who had so cruelly used him and had threatened to destroy him by
+fire, and he was almost tempted to leave him a prey to the hungry
+lioness; but brotherly affection and the gentleness of his nature
+soon overcame his first anger against his brother; and he drew
+his sword and attacked the lioness and slew her, and thus
+preserved his brother’s life both from the venomous snake and
+from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the
+lioness she had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws.
+
+While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and,
+perceiving that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly
+treated, was saving him from the fury of a wild beast at the risk
+of his own life, shame and remorse at once seized him, and he
+repented of his unworthy conduct and besought with many tears his
+brother’s pardon for the injuries he had done him. Orlando
+rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave him. They
+embraced each other and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando with
+a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent
+on his destruction.
+
+The wound in Orlando’s arm having bled very much, he found
+himself too weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he
+desired his brother to go and tell Ganymede, “whom,” said
+Orlando, “I in sport do call my Rosalind,” the accident which had
+befallen him.
+
+Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how
+Orlando had saved his life; and when he had finished the story of
+Orlando’s bravery and his own providential escape he owned to
+them that he was Orlando’s brother who had so cruelly used him;
+and then be told them of their reconciliation.
+
+The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made
+such a lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena that she
+instantly fell in love with him; and Oliver observing how much
+she pitied the distress he told her he felt for his fault, he as
+suddenly fell in love with her. But while love was thus stealing
+into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, he was no less busy with
+Ganymede, who, hearing of the danger Orlando had been in, and
+that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when he
+recovered he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the
+imaginary character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver:
+
+“Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.”
+
+But Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he did
+really faint, and, much wondering at the weakness of the young
+man, he said, “Well, if you did counterfeit, take a good heart
+and counterfeit to be a man.”
+
+“So I do,” replied Ganymede, truly, “but I should have been a
+woman by right.”
+
+Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he
+returned back to his brother he had much news to tell him; for,
+besides the account of Ganymede’s fainting at the hearing that
+Orlando was wounded, Oliver told him how he had fallen in love
+with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and that she had lent a
+favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first interview;
+and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled, that
+he should marry Aliena, saying that he so well loved her that he
+would live here as a shepherd and settle his estate and house at
+home upon Orlando.
+
+“You have my consent,” said Orlando. “Let your wedding be
+to-morrow, and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go
+and persuade your shepherdess to agree to this. She is now alone,
+for, look, here comes her brother.”
+
+Oliver went to Aliena, and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived
+approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded
+friend.
+
+When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love
+which had taken place between Oliver and. Aliena, Orlando said be
+had advised his brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be
+married on the morrow, and then he added how much he could wish
+to be married on the same day to his Rosalind.
+
+Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if
+Orlando really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he
+should have his wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make
+Rosalind appear in her own person, and also that Rosalind should
+be willing to marry Orlando.
+
+This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the Lady
+Rosalind, he could so easily perform, be pretended he would bring
+to pass by the aid of magic, which he said he had learned of an
+uncle who was a famous magician.
+
+The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he
+heard, asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning.
+
+“By my life I do,” said Ganymede. “Therefore put on your best
+clothes, and bid the duke and your friends to your wedding, for
+if you desire to be married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be
+here.”
+
+The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena,
+they came into the presence of the duke, and with them also came
+Orlando.
+
+They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and
+as yet only one of the brides appearing, there was much of
+wondering and conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede
+was making a jest of Orlando.
+
+The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be
+brought in this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the
+shepherd-boy could really do what he had promised; and while
+Orlando was answering that he knew not what to think, Ganymede
+entered and asked the duke, if he brought his daughter, whether
+he would consent to her marriage with Orlando.
+
+“That I would,” said the duke, “if I had kingdoms to give with
+her.”
+
+Ganymede then said to Orlando, “And you say you will marry her if
+I bring her here.”
+
+“That I would,” said Orlando, “if I were king of many kingdoms.”
+
+Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and, Ganymede
+throwing off his male attire, and being once more dressed in
+woman’s apparel, quickly became Rosalind without the power of
+magic; and Aliena, changing her country garb for her own rich
+clothes, was with as little trouble transformed into the lady
+Celia.
+
+While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando that he thought
+the shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and
+Orlando said he also had observed the resemblance.
+
+They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind
+and Celia, in their own clothes, entered, and, no longer
+pretending that it was by the power of magic that she came there,
+Rosalind threw herself on her knees before her father and begged
+his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to all present that she
+should so suddenly appear, that it might well have passed for
+magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and
+told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the
+forest as a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
+
+The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the
+marriage; and Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were
+married at the same time. And though their wedding could not be
+celebrated in this wild forest with any of the parade of splendor
+usual on such occasions, yet a happier wedding-day was never
+passed. And while they were eating their venison under the cool
+shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be wanting to
+complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, an
+unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news
+that his dukedom was restored to him.
+
+The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and
+hearing that every day men of great worth resorted to the forest
+of Arden to join the lawful duke in his exile, much envying that
+his brother should be so highly respected in his adversity, put
+himself at the head of a large force and advanced toward the
+forest, intending to seize his brother and put him with all his
+faithful followers to the sword; but by a wonderful interposition
+of Providence this bad brother was converted from his evil
+intention, for just as he entered the skirts of the wild forest
+he was met by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had
+much talk and who in the end completely turned his heart from his
+wicked design. Thenceforward he became a true penitent, and
+resolved, relinquishing his unjust dominion, to spend the
+remainder of his days in a religious house. The first act of his
+newly conceived penitence was to send a messenger to his brother
+(as has been related) to offer to restore to him his dukedom,
+which be had usurped so long, and with it the lands and revenues
+of his friends, the faithful followers of his adversity.
+
+This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came
+opportunely to heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the
+wedding of the princesses. Celia complimented her cousin on this
+good, fortune which had happened to the duke, Rosalind’s father,
+and wished her joy very sincerely, though she herself was no
+longer heir to the dukedom, but by this restoration which her
+father had made, Rosalind was now the heir, so completely was the
+love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of jealousy or of
+envy.
+
+The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends
+who had stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy
+followers, though they had patiently shared his adverse fortune,
+were very well pleased to return in peace and prosperity, to the
+palace of their lawful duke.
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose
+names were Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and
+uninterrupted friendship had long subsisted. They pursued their
+studies together, and their hours of leisure were always passed
+in each other’s company, except when Proteus visited a lady he
+was in love with. And these visits to his mistress,, and this
+passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only topics on
+which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
+himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his
+friend forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at
+Proteus, and in pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and
+declare that no such idle fancies should ever enter his head,
+greatly preferring (as he said) the free and happy life he led to
+the anxious hopes and fears of the lover Proteus.
+
+One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must
+for a time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus,
+unwilling to part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail
+upon Valentine not to leave him. But Valentine said:
+
+“Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
+sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping
+youths have ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained
+to the sweet glances of your honored Julia, I would entreat you
+to accompany me, to see the wonders of the world abroad; but
+since you are a lover, love on still, and may your love be
+prosperous!”
+
+They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.
+
+“Sweet Valentine, adieu!” said Proteus. “Think on me when you see
+some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish me
+partaker of your happiness.”
+
+Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when
+his friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to
+Julia, which he gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her
+mistress.
+
+Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of
+a noble spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden
+dignity too easily to be won; therefore she affected to be
+insensible of his passion and gave him much uneasiness in the
+prosecution of his suit.
+
+And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not
+receive it, and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus,
+and ordered her to leave the room. But she so much wished to see
+what was written in the letter that she soon called in her maid
+again; and when Lucetta returned she said, “What o’clock is it?”
+
+Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter
+than to know the time of day, without answering her question
+again offered the rejected letter. Julia, angry that her maid
+should thus take the liberty of seeming to know what she really
+wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on the floor,,
+ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
+retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn
+letter; but Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in
+pretended anger, “Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you
+would be fingering them to anger me.”
+
+Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
+fragments. She first made out these words, “Love-wounded
+Proteus”; and lamenting over these and such like loving words,
+which she made out though they were all torn asunder, or, she
+said WOUNDED (the expression “Love-wounded Proteus” giving her
+that idea), she talked to these kind words, telling them she
+would lodge them in her bosom as in a bed, till their wounds were
+healed, and that she would kiss each several piece to make
+amends.
+
+In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike
+childishness, till, finding herself unable to make out the whole,
+and vexed at her own ingratitude in destroying such sweet and
+loving words, as she called them, she wrote a much kinder letter
+to Proteus than she had ever done before.
+
+Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer
+to his letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, “Sweet
+love! sweet lines! sweet life!”
+
+In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father.
+“How now?” said the old gentleman. “What letter are you reading
+there?”
+
+“My lord,” replied Proteus, “it is a letter from my friend
+Valentine, at Milan.”
+
+“Lend me the letter,” said his father. “Let me see what news.”
+
+“There is no news, my lord,” said Proteus, greatly alarmed, “but
+that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
+daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the
+partner of his fortune.”
+
+“And how stand you affected to his wish?” asked the father.
+
+“As one relying on your lordship’s will and not depending on his
+friendly wish,” said Proteus.
+
+Now it had happened that Proteus’s father had just been talking
+with a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he
+wondered his lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home
+while most men were sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.
+
+“Some,” said he, “to the wars, to try their fortunes there, and
+some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
+universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to
+the Duke of Milan’s court. Your son is fit for any of these
+things, and it will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper
+age not to have traveled in his youth.”
+
+Proteus’s father thought the advice of his friend was very good,
+and upon Proteus telling him that Valentine “wished him with him,
+the partner of his fortune,” he at once determined to send his
+son to Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this
+sudden resolution, it being the usual habit of this positive old
+gentleman to command his son, not reason with him, he said:
+
+“My will is the same as Valentine’s wish.” And seeing his son
+look astonished, he added: “Look not amazed, that I so suddenly
+resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan’s court;
+for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
+readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory.”
+
+Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father,
+who never suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself
+for telling his father an untruth about Julia’s letter, which had
+brought upon him the sad necessity of leaving her.
+
+Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a
+time she no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each
+other a mournful farewell, with many vows of love and constancy.
+Proteus and Julia exchanged rings, which they both promised to
+keep forever in remembrance of each other; and thus, taking a
+sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his journey to Milan, the
+abode of his friend Valentine.
+
+Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father,
+in high favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had
+happened to him of which Proteus did not even dream, for
+Valentine had given up the freedom of which he used so much to
+boast, and was become as passionate a lover as Proteus.
+
+She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the
+Lady Silvia, daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved
+him; but they concealed their love from the duke, because,
+although he showed much kindness for Valentine and invited him
+every day to his palace, yet he designed to marry his daughter to
+a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia despised this
+Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent qualities
+of Valentine.
+
+These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit
+to Silvia, and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning
+everything Thurio said into ridicule, when the duke himself
+entered the room and told Valentine the welcome news of his
+friend Proteus’s arrival.
+
+Valentine said, “If I had wished a thing, it would have been to
+have seen him here!” And then he highly praised Proteus to the
+duke, saying, “My lord, though I have been a truant of my time,
+yet hath my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and
+is complete in person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a
+gentleman.”
+
+“Welcome him, then, according to his worth,” said the duke.
+“Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I
+need not bid him do so.”
+
+They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and
+Valentine introduced him to Silvia, saying, “Sweet lady,
+entertain him to be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.”
+
+When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone
+together, Valentine said:
+
+“Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your
+lady, and how thrives your love?”
+
+Proteus replied: “My tales of love used to weary you. I know you
+joy not in a love discourse.”
+
+“Aye, Proteus,” returned Valentine, “but that life is altered
+now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of
+my contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled
+eyes. O gentle Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so
+humbled me that I confess there is no woe like his correction nor
+no such joy on earth as in his service. I now like no discourse
+except it be of love. Now I can break my fast, dine, sup, and
+sleep upon the very name of love.”
+
+This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the
+disposition of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend
+Proteus. But “friend” Proteus must be called no longer, for the
+same all-powerful deity Love, of whom they were speaking (yea,
+even while they were talking of the change he had made in
+Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he, who had
+till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect
+friendship, was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a
+false friend and a faithless lover; for at the first sight of
+Silvia all his love for Julia vanished away like a dream, nor did
+his long friendship for Valentine deter him from endeavoring to
+supplant him in her affections; and although, as it will always
+be, when people of dispositions naturally good become unjust, be
+bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia and
+become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his
+sense of duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to
+his new unhappy passion.
+
+Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his
+love, and how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her
+father, and told him that, despairing of ever being able to
+obtain his consent, he had prevailed upon Silvia to leave her
+father’s palace that night and go with him to Mantua; then he
+showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of which he meant to
+assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the palace
+after it was dark.
+
+Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend’s dearest
+secrets, it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that
+Proteus resolved to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.
+
+This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the
+duke, such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal
+what he was going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke
+had shown him, and the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell
+that which else no worldly good should draw from him. He then
+told all he had heard from Valentine, not omitting the ladder of
+ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant to conceal them
+under a long cloak.
+
+The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
+preferred telling his friend’s intention rather than he would
+conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him
+not to let Valentine know from whom he had learned this
+intelligence, but by some artifice to make Valentine betray the
+secret himself. For this purpose the duke awaited the coming of
+Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw hurrying toward the
+palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within his cloak,
+which he concluded was the rope ladder.
+
+The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, “Whither away so fast,
+Valentine?”
+
+“May it please your grace,” said Valentine, “there is a messenger
+that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
+deliver them.”
+
+Now this falsehood of Valentine’s had no better success in the
+event than the untruth Proteus told his father.
+
+“Be they of much import?” said the duke.
+
+“No more, my lord,” said Valentine, “than to tell my father I am
+well and happy at your grace’s court.”
+
+“Nay then,” said the duke, “no matter; stay with me awhile. I
+wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly.”
+
+He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his
+secret from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match
+his daughter with Thurio, but that she was stubborn and
+disobedient to his commands.
+
+“Neither regarding,” said he, “that she is my child nor fearing
+me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
+hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have
+been cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a
+wife, and turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her
+beauty be her wedding dower, for me and my possessions she
+esteems not.”
+
+Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, “And
+what would your grace have me to do in all this?”
+
+“Why,” said the duke, “the lady I would wish to marry is nice and
+coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
+fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I
+would willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am
+to woo.”
+
+Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then
+practised by young men when they wished to win a fair lady’s
+love, such as presents, frequent visits, and the like.
+
+The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which
+he sent her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that
+no man might have access to her by day.
+
+“Why, then,” said Valentine, “you must visit her by night.”
+
+“But at night,” said the artful duke, who was now coming to the
+drift of his discourse, “her doors are fast locked.”
+
+Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get
+into the lady’s chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,,
+saying he would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in
+conclusion advised him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such
+a cloak as that which he now wore.
+
+“Lend me your cloak,” said the duke, who had feigned this long
+story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon
+saying these words he caught hold of Valentine’s cloak and,
+throwing it back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but
+also a letter of Silvia’s, which he instantly opened and read;
+and this letter contained a full account of their intended
+elopement. The duke, after upbraiding Valentine for his
+ingratitude in thus returning the favor he had shown him, by
+endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him from the
+court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
+depart that night without even seeing Silvia.
+
+While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at
+Verona was regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for
+him at last so far overcame her sense of propriety that she
+resolved to leave Verona and seek her lover at Milan; and to
+secure herself from danger on the road she dressed her maiden
+Lucetta and herself in men’s clothes,-. and they set out in this
+disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was banished
+from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.
+
+Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an
+inn; and, her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered
+into conversation with the innkeeper--or host, as he was
+called--thinking by that means to learn some news of Proteus.
+
+The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman
+(as he took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was
+of high rank, spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a
+good-natured man, he was sorry to see him look so melancholy; and
+to amuse his young guest he offered to take him to hear some fine
+music, with which, he said, a gentleman that evening was going to
+serenade his mistress.
+
+The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not
+well know what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had
+taken, for she knew he had loved her for her noble maiden pride
+and dignity of character, and she feared she should lower herself
+in his esteem; and this it was that made her wear a sad and
+thoughtful countenance.
+
+She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear
+the music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the
+way.
+
+But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
+different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for
+there, to her heart’s sorrow, she beheld her lover, the
+inconstant Proteus, serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and
+addressing discourse of love and admiration to her. And Julia
+overheard Silvia from a window talk with Proteus, and reproach
+him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his ingratitude his
+friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not choosing
+to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
+faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the
+ungenerous conduct of his false friend, Proteus.
+
+Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet
+did she still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had
+lately parted with a servant, she contrived, with the assistance
+of her host, the friendly innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus
+as a page; and Proteus knew not she was Julia, and he sent her
+with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia, and he even sent
+by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at Verona.
+
+When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to
+find that Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and
+Julia--or the page Sebastian, as she was called, entered into
+conversation with Silvia about Proteus’s first love, the forsaken
+Lady Julia. She putting in (as one may say) a good word for
+herself, said she knew Julia; as well she might, being herself
+the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia loved her
+master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her. And
+then she with a pretty equivocation went on: “Julia is about my
+height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the
+same as mine.” And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in
+her boy’s attire.
+
+Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly
+forsaken by the man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring
+which Proteus had sent, refused it, saying:
+
+“The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not
+take it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him.
+I love thee, gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a
+purse; I give it you for Julia’s sake.”
+
+These comfortable words coming from her kind rival’s tongue
+cheered the drooping heart of the disguised lady.
+
+But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which
+way to bend his course, being unwilling to return home to his
+father a disgraced and banished man. As he was wandering over a
+lonely forest, not far distant from Milan, where he had left his
+heart’s dear treasure, the Lady Silvia, he was set upon by
+robbers, who demanded his money.
+
+Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that
+be was going into banishment, and that he had no money, the
+clothes he had on being all his riches.
+
+The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being
+struck with his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he
+would live with them and be their chief, or captain, they would
+put themselves under his command; but that if he refused to
+accept their offer they would kill him.
+
+Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would
+consent to live with them and be their captain, provided they did
+no outrage on women or poor passengers.
+
+Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read
+in ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in
+this situation he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came
+to pass.
+
+Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted
+upon her no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of
+following Valentine to Mantua, at which place she had heard her
+lover had taken refuge; but in this account she was misinformed,
+for he still lived in the forest among the robbers, hearing the
+name of their captain, but taking no part in their depredations,
+and using the authority which they had imposed upon him in no
+other way than to compel them to show compassion to the travelers
+they robbed.
+
+Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father’s palace in
+company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom
+she took along with her for protection on the road. She had to
+pass through the forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt;
+and one of these robbers seized on Silvia, and would also have
+taken Eglamour, but he escaped.
+
+The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in,
+bade her not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her
+to a cave where his captain lived, and that she need not be
+afraid, for their captain had an honorable mind and always showed
+humanity to women. Silvia found little comfort in hearing she was
+going to be carried as a prisoner before the captain of a lawless
+banditti.
+
+“O Valentine,” she cried, “this I endure for thee!”
+
+But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he
+was stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the
+disguise of a page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had
+traced her steps to this forest. Proteus now rescued her from the
+hands the robber; but scarce had she time to thank him for the
+service he had done her before be began to distress her afresh
+with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing her to
+consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was
+standing beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the
+great service which Proteus had just done to Silvia should win
+her to show him some favor, they were all strangely surprised
+with the sudden appearance of Valentine, who, having heard his
+robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console and relieve
+her.
+
+Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being
+caught by his friend that he was all at once seized with
+penitence and remorse; and he expressed such a lively sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Valentine that Valentine, whose
+nature was noble and generous, even to a romantic degree, not
+only forgave and restored him to his former place in his
+friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:
+
+“I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
+give it up to you.”
+
+Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this
+strange offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this
+new-found virtue to refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all
+employed in recovering her, else would Silvia have been offended
+at being thus made over to Proteus, though she could scarcely
+think that Valentine would long persevere in this overstrained
+and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from the
+fainting fit, she said:
+
+“I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to
+Silvia.”
+
+Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave
+to Julia in return for that which he received from her and which
+he had sent by the supposed page to Silvia.
+
+“How is this?” said he. “This is Julia’s ring. How came you by
+it, boy?”
+
+Julia answered, “Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
+hath brought it hither.”
+
+Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that
+the page Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and
+the proof she had given of her constancy and true love so wrought
+in him that his love for her returned into his heart, and he took
+again his own dear lady and joyfully resigned all pretensions to
+the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had so well deserved her.
+
+Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
+reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when
+they were surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and
+Thurio, who came there in pursuit of Silvia.
+
+Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying,
+“Silvia is mine.”
+
+Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner:
+“Thurio, keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours,
+you shall embrace your death. Here she stands, take but
+possession of her with a touch! I dare you but to breathe upon my
+love.”
+
+Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back,
+and said he cared not for her and that none but a fool would
+fight for a girl who loved him not.
+
+The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great
+anger, “The more base and degenerate in you to take such means
+for her as you have done and leave her on such slight
+conditions.”
+
+Then turning to Valentine he said: “I do applaud your spirit,
+Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress’s love. You shall
+have Silvia, for you have well deserved her.”
+
+Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke’s hand and
+accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter
+with becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute
+to entreat the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom
+he had associated in the forest, assuring him that when reformed
+and restored to society there would be found among them many
+good, and fit for great employment; for the most of them had been
+banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather than for any
+black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the’ ready duke
+consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
+friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted
+faults, to be present at the recital of the whole story of his
+loves and falsehoods before the duke. And the shame of the
+recital to his awakened conscience was judged sufficient
+punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four, returned back
+to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence of
+the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.
+
+
+
+
+THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+Shylock, the Jew, lived at Venice. He was a usurer who had
+amassed an immense fortune by lending money at great interest to
+Christian merchants. Shylock, being a hard-hearted man, exacted
+the payment of the money he lent with such severity that he was
+much disliked by all good men, and particularly by Antonio, a
+young merchant of Venice; and Shylock as much hated Antonio,
+because he used to lend money to people in distress, and would
+never take any interest for the money he lent; therefore there
+was great enmity between this covetous Jew and the generous
+merchant Antonio. Whenever Antonio met Shylock on the Rialto, (or
+Exchange) he used to reproach him with his usuries and hard
+dealings, which the Jew would bear with seeming patience, while
+he secretly meditated revenge.
+
+Antonio was the kindest man that lived, the best conditioned, and
+had the most unwearied spirit in doing courtesies; indeed, he was
+one in whom the ancient Roman honor more appeared than in any
+that drew breath in Italy. He was greatly beloved by all his
+fellow-citizens; but the friend who was nearest and dearest to
+his heart was Bassanio, a noble Venetian, who, having but a small
+patrimony, had nearly exhausted his little fortune by living in
+too expensive a manner for his slender means, at young men of
+high rank with small fortunes are too apt to do. Whenever
+Bassanio wanted money Antonio assisted him; and it seemed as if
+they had but one heart and one purse between them.
+
+One day Bassanio came to Antonio and told him that he wished to
+repair his fortune by a wealthy marriage with a lady whom he
+dearly loved, whose father, that was lately dead, had left her
+sole heiress to a large estate; and that in her father’s lifetime
+he used to visit at her house, when he thought he had observed
+this lady had sometimes from her eyes sent speechless messages
+that seemed to say he would be no unwelcome suitor; but not
+having money to furnish himself with an appearance befitting the
+lover of so rich an heiress, he besought Antonio to add to the
+many favors he had shown him by lending him three thousand
+ducats.
+
+Antonio had no money by him at that time to lend his friend; but
+expecting soon to have. some ships come home laden with
+merchandise, he said he would go to Shylock, the rich
+moneylender, and borrow the money upon the credit of those ships.
+
+Antonio and Bassanio went together to Shylock, and Antonio asked
+the Jew to lend him three thousand ducats upon any interest he
+should require, to be paid out of the merchandise contained in
+his ships at sea.
+
+On this, Shylock thought within himself: “If I can once catch him
+on the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He
+hates our Jewish nation; he lends out money gratis; and among the
+merchants he rails at me and my well-earned bargains, which he
+calls interest. Cursed be my tribe if I forgive him!”
+
+Antonio, finding be was musing within himself and did not answer,
+and being impatient for the money, said:
+
+“Shylock, do you hear? Will you lend the money?”
+
+To this question the Jew replied: “Signor Antonio, on the Rialto
+many a time and often you have railed at me about my moneys and
+my usuries, and I have borne it with a patient shrug, for
+sufferance is the badge of all our tribe; and then you have
+called me unbeliever, cutthroat dog, and spit upon my Jewish
+garments, and spurned at me with your foot, as if I was a cur.
+Well, then, it now appears you need my help, and you come to me
+and say, ‘Shylock, lend me moneys.’ Has a dog money? Is it
+possible a cur should lend three thousand ducats? Shall I bend
+low and say, ‘Fair sir, you spit upon me on Wednesday last;
+another time you called me dog, and for these courtesies I am to
+lend you moneys.”’
+
+Antonio replied: “I am as like to call you so again, to spit on
+you again, and spurn you, too. If you will lend me this money,
+lend it not to me as to a friend, but rather lend it to me as to
+an enemy, that, if I break, you may with better face exact the
+penalty.”
+
+“Why, look you,” said Shylock, “how you storm! I would be friends
+with you and have your love. I will forget the shames you have
+put upon me. I will supply your wants and take no interest for my
+money.”
+
+This seemingly kind offer greatly surprised Antonio; and then
+Shylock, still pretending kindness and that all he did was to
+gain Antonio’s love, again said he would lend him the three
+thousand ducats, and take no interest for his money; only Antonio
+should go with him to a lawyer and there sign in merry sport a
+bond that, if he did not repay the money by a certain day, he
+would forfeit a pound of flesh, to be cut off from any part of
+his body that Shylock pleased.
+
+“Content,” said Antonio. “I will sign to this bond, and say there
+is much kindness in the Jew.”
+
+Bassanio said Antonio should not sign to such a bond for him; but
+still Antonio insisted that he would sign it, for that before the
+day of payment came his ships would return laden with many times
+the value of the money.
+
+Shylock, hearing this debate, exclaimed: “O Father Abraham, what
+suspicious people these Christians are! Their own hard dealings
+teach them to suspect the thoughts of others. I pray you tell me
+this, Bassanio: if he should break his day, what should I gain by
+the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man’s flesh, taken
+from a man, is not so estimable, profitable, neither, as the
+flesh of mutton or beef. I say, to buy his favor I offer this
+friendship: if he will take it, so; if not, adieu.”
+
+At last, against the advice of Bassanio, who, notwithstanding all
+the Jew had said of his kind intentions, did not like his friend
+should run the hazard of this shocking penalty for his sake,
+Antonio signed the bond, thinking it really was (as the Jew said)
+merely in sport.
+
+The rich heiress that Bassanio wished to marry lived near Venice,
+at a place called Belmont. Her name was Portia, and in the graces
+of her person and her mind she was nothing inferior to that
+Portia, of whom we read, who was Cato’s daughter and the wife of
+Brutus.
+
+Bassanio being so kindly supplied with money by his friend
+Antonio, at the hazard of his life, set out for Belmont with a
+splendid train and attended by a gentleman of the name of
+Gratiano.
+
+Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time
+consented to accept of him for a husband.
+
+Bassanio confessed to Portia that he had no fortune and that his
+high birth and noble ancestry were all that he could boast of;
+she, who loved him for his worthy qualities and had riches enough
+not to regard wealth in a husband, answered, with a graceful
+modesty, that she would wish herself a thousand times more fair,
+and ten thousand times more rich, to be more worthy of him; and
+then the accomplished Portia prettily dispraised herself and said
+she was an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, yet not so
+old but that she could learn, and that she would commit her
+gentle spirit to be directed and governed by him in all things;
+and she said: “Myself and what is mine to you and yours is now
+converted. But yesterday, Bassanio, I was the lady of this fair
+mansion, queen of myself, and mistress over these servants; and
+now this house, these servants, and myself are yours, my lord; I
+give them with this ring,” presenting a ring to Bassanio.
+
+Bassanio was so overpowered with gratitude and wonder at the
+gracious manner in which the rich and noble Portia accepted of a
+man of his humble fortunes that he could not express his joy
+
+and reverence to the dear lady who so honored him, by anything
+but broken words of love and thankfulness; and, taking the ring,
+he vowed never to part with it.
+
+Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia’s waiting-maid, were in attendance
+upon their lord and lady when Portia so gracefully promised to
+become the obedient wife of Bassanio; and Gratiano, wishing
+Bassanio and the generous lady joy, desired permission to be
+married at the same time.
+
+“With all my heart, Gratiano,” said Bassanio, “if you can get a
+wife.”
+
+Gratiano then said that he loved the Lady Portia’s fair
+waiting-gentlewoman, Nerissa, and that she had promised to be his
+wife if her lady married Bassanio. Portia asked Nerissa if this
+was true. Nerissa replied:
+
+“Madam, it is so, if you approve of it.”
+
+Portia willingly consenting, Bassanio pleasantly said:
+
+“Then our wedding-feast shall be much honored by your marriage,
+Gratiano.”
+
+The happiness of these lovers was sadly crossed at this moment by
+the entrance of a messenger, who brought a letter from Antonio
+containing fearful tidings. When Bassanio read Antonio’s letter,
+Portia feared it was to tell him of the death of some dear
+friend, he looked so pale; and, inquiring what was the news which
+bad so distressed him, he said:
+
+“Oh, sweet Portia, here are a few of the unpleasantest words that
+ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, when I first imparted my love to
+you, I freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins; but
+I should have told you that I had less than nothing, being in
+debt.”
+
+Bassanio then told Portia what has been here related, of his
+borrowing the money of Antonio, and of Antonio’s procuring it of
+Shylock the Jew, and of the bond by which Antonio had engaged to
+forfeit a pound of flesh if it was not repaid by a certain day:
+and then Bassanio read Antonio’s letter, the words of which were:
+
+‘Sweet Bassanio, my ships are all lost, my bond to the Jew is
+forfeited, and since in paying it is impossible I should live, I
+could wish, to see you at my death; notwithstanding, use your
+pleasure. If your love for me do not persuade you to come, let
+not my letter.’
+
+“Oh, my dear love,” said Portia, “despatch all business and
+begone; you shall have gold to pay the money twenty times over,
+before this kind friend shall lose a hair by my Bassanio’s fault;
+and as you are so dearly bought, I will dearly love you.”
+
+Portia then said she would be married to Bassanio before he set
+out, to give him a legal right to her money; and that same day
+they were married, and Gratiano was also married to Nerissa; and
+Bassanio and Gratiano, the instant they were married, set out in
+great haste for Venice, where Bassanio found Antonio in prison.
+
+The day of payment being past, the cruel Jew would not accept of
+the money which Bassanio offered him, but insisted upon having a
+pound of Antonio’s flesh. A day was appointed to try this
+shocking cause before the Duke of Venice, and Bassanio awaited in
+dreadful suspense the event of the trial.
+
+When Portia parted with her husband she spoke cheeringly to him
+and bade him bring his dear friend along with him when he
+returned; yet she feared it would go hard with Antonio, and when
+she was left alone she began to think and consider within herself
+if she could by any means be instrumental in saving the life of
+her dear Bassanio’s friend. And notwithstanding when she wished
+to honor her Bassanio she had said to him, with such a meek and
+wifelike grace, that she would submit in all things to be
+governed by his superior wisdom, yet being now called forth into
+action by the peril of her honored husband’s friend, she did
+nothing doubt her own powers, and by the sole guidance of her own
+true and perfect judgment at once resolved to go herself to
+Venice and speak in Antonio’s defense.
+
+Portia had a relation who was a counselor in the law; to this
+gentleman, whose name was Bellario, she wrote, and, stating the
+case to him, desired his opinion, and that with his advice he
+would also send her the dress worn by a counselor. When the
+messenger returned he brought letters from Bellario of advice how
+to proceed, and also everything necessary for her equipment.
+
+Portia dressed herself and her maid Nerissa in men’s apparel,
+and, putting on the robes of a counselor, she took Nerissa along
+with her as her clerk; setting out immediately, they arrived at
+Venice on the very day of the trial. The cause was just going to
+be heard before the Duke and Senators of Venice in the Senate
+House when Portia entered this high court of justice and
+presented a letter from Bellario, in which that learned counselor
+wrote to the duke, saying he would have come himself to plead for
+Antonio but that he was prevented by sickness, and he requested
+that the learned young Doctor Balthasar (so he called Portia)
+might be permitted to plead in his stead. This the Duke granted,
+much wondering at the youthful appearance of the stranger, who
+was prettily disguised by her counselor’s robes and her large
+wig.
+
+And now began this important trial. Portia looked around her and
+she saw the merciless Jew; and she saw Bassanio, but he knew her
+not in her disguise. He was standing beside Antonio, in an agony
+of distress and fear for his friend.
+
+The importance of the arduous task Portia had engaged in gave
+this tender lady courage, and she boldly proceeded in the duty
+she had undertaken to perform. And first of all she addressed
+herself to Shylock; and allowing that he had a right by the
+Venetian law to have the forfeit expressed in the bond, she spoke
+so sweetly of the noble quality of MERCY as would have softened
+any heart but the unfeeling Shylock’s, saying that it dropped as
+the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath; and how mercy
+was a double blessing, it blessed him that gave and him that
+received it; and how it became monarchs better than their crowns,
+being an attribute of God Himself; and that earthly power came
+nearest to God’s in proportion as mercy tempered justice; and she
+bade Shylock remember that as we all pray for mercy, that same
+prayer should teach us to show mercy. Shylock only answered her
+by desiring to have the penalty forfeited in the bond.
+
+“Is he not able to pay the money?” asked Portia.
+
+Bassanio then offered the Jew the payment of the three thousand
+ducats as many times over as he should desire; which Shylock
+refusing, and still insisting upon having a pound of Antonio’s
+flesh, Bassanio begged the learned young counselor would endeavor
+to wrest the law a little, to save Antonio’s life. But Portia
+gravely answered that laws once established never be altered.
+Shylock, hearing Portia say that the law might not be altered, it
+seemed to him that she was pleading in his favor, and he said:
+
+“A Daniel is come to judgment! O wise young judge, how I do honor
+you! How much elder are you than your looks!”
+
+Portia now desired Shylock to let her look at the bond; and when
+she had read it she said: “This bond is forfeited, and by this
+the Jew may lawfully claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
+nearest Antonio’s heart.” Then she said to Shylock, “Be merciful;
+take the money and bid me tear the bond.”
+
+But no mercy would the cruel Shylock show; and he said, “By my
+soul, I swear there is no power in the tongue of man to alter
+me.”
+
+“Why, then, Antonio,” said Portia, “you must prepare your bosom
+for the knife.” And while Shylock was sharpening a long knife
+with great eagerness to cut off the pound of flesh, Portia said
+to Antonio, “Have you anything to say?”
+
+Antonio with a calm resignation replied that he had but little to
+say, for that he had prepared his mind for death. Then he said to
+Bassanio:
+
+“Give me your hand, Bassanio! Fare you well! Grieve not that I am
+fallen into this misfortune for you. Commend me to your honorable
+wife and tell her how I have loved you!”
+
+Bassanio in the deepest affliction replied: “Antonio, I am
+married to a wife who is as dear to me as life itself; but life
+itself, my wife, and all the world are not esteemed with me above
+your life. I would lose all, I would sacrifice all to this devil
+here, to deliver you.”
+
+Portia hearing this, though the kind-hearted lady was not at all
+offended with her husband for expressing the love he owed to so
+true a friend as Antonio in these strong terms, yet could not
+help answering:
+
+“Your wife would give you little thanks, if she were present, to
+hear you make this offer.”
+
+And then Gratiano, who loved to copy what his lord did, thought
+he must make a speech like Bassanio’s, and he said, in Nerissa’s
+hearing, who was writing in her clerk’s dress by the side of
+Portia:
+
+“I have a wife whom I protest I love. I wish she were in heaven
+if she could but entreat some power there to change the cruel
+temper of this currish Jew.”
+
+“It is well you wish this behind her back, else you would have
+but an unquiet house,” said Nerissa.
+
+Shylock now cried out, impatiently: “We trifle time. I pray
+pronounce the sentence.”
+
+And now all was awful expectation in the court, and every heart
+was full of grief for Antonio.
+
+Portia asked if the scales were ready to weigh the flesh; and she
+said to the Jew, “Shylock, you must have some surgeon by, lest he
+bleed to death.”
+
+Shylock, whose whole intent was that Antonio should bleed to
+death, said, “It is not so named in the bond.”
+
+Portia replied: “It is not so named in the bond, but what of
+that? It were good you did so much for charity.”
+
+To this all the answer Shylock would make was, “I cannot find it;
+it is not in the bond.”
+
+“Then,” said Portia, “a pound of Antonio’s flesh is thine. The
+law allows it and the court awards it. And you may cut this flesh
+from off his breast. The law allows it and the court awards it.”
+
+Again Shylock exclaimed: “O wise and upright judge! A Daniel is
+come to judgment!” And then he sharpened his long knife again,
+and looking eagerly on Antonio, he said, “Come, prepare!”
+
+“Tarry a little, Jew,” said Portia. “There is something else.
+This bond here gives you no drop of blood; the words expressly
+are, ‘a pound of flesh.’ If in the cutting off the pound of flesh
+you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by
+the law to be confiscated to the state of Venice.”
+
+Now as it was utterly impossible for Shylock to cut off the pound
+of flesh without shedding some of Antonio’s blood, this wise
+discovery of Portia’s, that it was flesh and not blood that was
+named in the bond, saved the life of Antonio; and all admiring
+the wonderful sagacity of the young counselor who had so happily
+thought of this expedient, plaudits resounded from every part of
+the Senate House; and Gratiano exclaimed, in the words which
+Shylock had used:
+
+“O wise and upright judge! Mark, Jew, a Daniel is come to
+judgment!”
+
+Shylock, finding himself defeated in his cruel intent, said, with
+a disappointed look, that he would take the money. And Bassanio,
+rejoiced beyond measure at Antonio’s unexpected deliverance,
+cried out:
+
+“Here is the money!”
+
+But Portia stopped him, saying: “Softly; there is no haste. The
+Jew shall have nothing but the penalty. Therefore prepare,
+Shylock, to cut off the flesh; but mind you shed no blood; nor do
+not cut off more nor less than just a pound; be it more or less
+by one poor scruple, nay, if the scale turn but by the weight of
+a single hair, you are condemned by the laws of Venice to die,
+and all your wealth is forfeited to the state.”
+
+“Give me my money and let me go,” said Shylock.
+
+“I have it ready,” said Bassanio. “Here it is.”
+
+Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped
+him, saying: “Tarry, Jew. I have yet another hold upon you. By
+the laws of Venice your wealth is forfeited to the state for
+having conspired against the life of one of its citizens, and
+your life lies at the mercy of the duke; therefore, down on your
+knees and ask him to pardon you.”
+
+The duke then said to Shylock: “That you may see the difference
+of our Christian spirit, I pardon you your life before you ask
+it. Half your wealth belongs to Antonio, the other half comes to
+the state.”
+
+The generous Antonio then said that he would give up his share of
+Shylock’s wealth if Shylock would sign a deed to make it over at
+his death to his daughter and her husband; for Antonio knew that
+the Jew had an only daughter who had lately married against his
+consent a young Christian named Lorenzo, a friend of Antonio’s,
+which had so offended Shylock that he had disinherited her.
+
+The Jew agreed to this; and being thus disappointed in his
+revenge and despoiled of his riches, he said: “I am ill. Let me
+go home. Send the deed after me, and I will sign over half my
+riches to my daughter.”
+
+“Get thee gone, then,” said the duke, “and sign it; and if you
+repent your cruelty and turn Christian, the state will forgive
+you the fine of the other half of your riches.”
+
+The duke now released Antonio and dismissed the court. He then
+highly praised the wisdom and ingenuity of the young counselor
+and invited him home to dinner.
+
+Portia, who meant to return to Belmont before her husband,
+replied, “I humbly thank your Grace, but I must away directly.”
+
+The duke said he was sorry he had not leisure to stay and dine
+with him, and, turning to Antonio, he added, “Reward this
+gentleman; for in my mind you are much indebted to him.”
+
+The duke and his senators left the court; and then Bassanio said
+to Portia: “Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Antonio have
+by your wisdom been this day acquitted of grievous penalties, and
+I beg you will accept of the three thousand ducats due unto the
+Jew.”
+
+“And we shall stand indebted to you over and above,” said
+Antonio, “in love and service evermore.”
+
+Portia could not be prevailed upon to accept the money. But upon
+Bassanio still pressing her to accept of some reward, she said:
+
+“Give me your gloves. I will wear them for your sake.” And then
+Bassanio taking off his gloves, she espied the ring which she had
+given him upon his finger. Now it was the ring the wily lady
+wanted to get from him to make a merry jest when she saw her
+Bassanio again, that made her ask him for his gloves; and she
+said, when she saw the ring, “And for your love, I will take this
+ring from you.”
+
+Bassanio was sadly distressed that the counselor should ask him
+for the only thing he could not part with, and he replied, in
+great confusion, that be could not give him that ring, because it
+was his wife’s gift and he had vowed never to part with it; but
+that he would give him the most valuable ring in Venice, and find
+it out by proclamation.
+
+On this Portia affected to be affronted, and left the court,
+saying, “You teach me, sir, how a beggar should be answered.”
+
+“Dear Bassanio,” said Antonio, “let him have the ring. Let My love and
+the great service he has done for me be valued against your wife’s
+displeasure.” Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful, yielded, and
+sent Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the “clerk” Nerissa,
+who had also given Gratiano a ring, begged his ring, and Gratiano (not
+choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave it to her. And
+there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got home, how
+they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings and swear
+that they had given them as a present to some woman.
+
+Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which
+never fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a
+good action. Her cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw: the
+moon never seemed to shine so bright before; and when that
+pleasant moon was hid behind a cloud, then a light which she saw
+from her house at Belmont as well pleased her charmed fancy, and
+she said to Nerissa:
+
+“That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little
+candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty
+world.” And hearing the sound of music from her house, she said,
+“Methinks that music sounds much sweeter than by day.”
+
+And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and, dressing
+themselves in their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of
+their husbands, who soon followed them with Antonio; and Bassanio
+presenting his dear friend to the Lady Portia, the
+congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly over when
+they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarreling in a corner of
+the room.
+
+“A quarrel already?” said Portia. “What is the matter?”
+
+Gratiano replied, “Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that
+Nerissa gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler’s
+knife: ‘Love me, and leave me not.’”
+
+“What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?” said
+Nerissa. “You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would
+keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to
+the lawyer’s clerk. I know you gave it to a woman.”
+
+“By this hand,” replied Gratiano, “I gave it to a youth, a kind
+Of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; be was
+clerk to the young counselor that by his wise pleading saved
+Antonio’s life. This prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could
+not for my life deny him.”
+
+Portia said: “You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your
+wife’s first gift. I gave my Lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure
+be would not part with it for all the world.”
+
+Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, “My Lord Bassanio
+gave his ring away to the counselor, and then the boy, his clerk,
+that took some pains in writing, he begged my ring.”
+
+Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry and reproached Bassanio
+for giving away her ring; and she said Nerissa had taught her
+what to believe, and that she knew some woman had the ring.
+Bassanio was very unhappy to have so offended his dear lady, and
+he said with great earnestness:
+
+“No, by my honor, no woman had it, but a civil doctor who refused
+three thousand ducats of me and begged the ring, which when I
+denied him he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet
+Portia? I was so beset with shame for my seeming ingratitude that
+I was forced to send the ring after him. Pardon me, good lady.
+Had you been there, I think you would have begged the ring of me
+to give the worthy doctor.”
+
+“Ah!” said Antonio, “I am the unhappy cause of these quarrels.”
+
+Portia bid Antonio not to grieve at that, for that be was welcome
+notwithstanding; and then Antonio said:
+
+“I once did lend my body for Bassanio’s sake; and but for him to
+whom your husband gave the ring I should have now been dead. I
+dare be bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will
+never more break his faith with you.”
+
+“Then you shall be his surety,” said Portia. “Give him this ring
+and bid him keep it better than the other.”
+
+When Bassanio looked at this ring be was strangely surprised to
+find it was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him how
+she was the young counselor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and
+Bassanio found, to his unspeakable wonder and delight, that it
+was by the noble courage and wisdom of his wife that Antonio’s
+life was saved.
+
+And Portia again welcomed Antonio, and gave him letters which by
+some chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account
+of Antonio’s ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived
+in the harbor. So these tragical beginnings of this rich
+merchant’s story were all forgotten in the unexpected good
+fortune which ensued; and there was leisure to laugh at the
+comical adventure of the rings and the husbands that did not know
+their own wives, Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of rhyming
+speech, that--
+
+    While he lived, he’d fear no other thing
+    So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring.
+
+
+
+
+CYMBELINE
+
+
+During the time of Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, there
+reigned in England (which was then called Britain) a king whose
+name was Cymbeline.
+
+Cymbeline’s first wife died when his three children (two sons and
+a daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest of these
+children, was brought up in her father’s court; but by a strange
+chance the two sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery
+when the eldest was but three years of age and the youngest quite
+an infant; and Cymbeline could never discover what was become of
+them or by whom they were conveyed away.
+
+Cymbeline was twice married. His second wife was a wicked,
+plotting woman, and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline’s
+daughter by his first wife.
+
+The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son
+of her own by a former husband (she also having been twice
+married), for by this means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline
+to place the crown of Britain upon the head of her son Cloten;
+for she knew that, if the king’s sons were not found, the
+Princess Imogen must be the king’s heir. But this design was
+prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the consent or
+even knowledge of her father or the queen.
+
+Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen’s husband) was the
+best scholar and most accomplished gentleman of that age. His
+father died fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after
+his birth his mother died also for grief at the loss of her
+husband.
+
+Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan, took
+Posthumus (Cymbeline having given him that name because he was
+born after his father’s death), and educated him in his own
+court.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and
+were playfellows from their infancy; they loved each other
+tenderly when they were children, and, their affection continuing
+to increase with their years, when they grew up they privately
+married.
+
+The disappointed queen soon learned this secret, for she kept
+spies constantly in watch upon the actions of her stepdaughter,
+and she immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with
+Posthumus.
+
+Nothing could exceed the wrath of Cymbeline when he heard that
+his daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to
+marry a subject. He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain and
+banished him from his native country forever.
+
+The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she
+suffered at losing her husband, offered to procure them a private
+meeting before Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which
+place he had chosen for his residence in his banishment. This
+seeming kindness she showed the better to succeed in her future
+designs in regard to her son Cloten, for she meant to persuade
+Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage was not
+lawful, being contracted without the consent of the king.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each
+other. Imogen gave her husband a diamond ring which had been her
+mother’s, and Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and
+he fastened a bracelet on the arm of his wife, which he begged
+she would preserve with great care, as a token of his love; they
+then bade each other farewell, with many vows of everlasting love
+and fidelity.
+
+Imogen remained a solitary and dejected lady in her father’s
+court, and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for
+his banishment.
+
+Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of
+different nations, who were talking freely of ladies, each one
+praising the ladies of his own country and his own mistress.
+Posthumus, who had ever his own dear lady in his mind, affirmed
+that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the most virtuous, wise, and
+constant lady in the world.
+
+One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended
+that a lady of Britain should be so praised above the Roman
+ladies, his country-women, provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt
+the constancy of his so highly praised wife; and at length, after
+much altercation, Posthumus consented to a proposal of Iachimo’s
+that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain and endeavor to gain the
+love of the married Imogen. They then laid a wager that if
+Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design he was to forfeit a
+large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen’s favor, and
+prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so
+earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the
+wager was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring
+which was Imogen’s love present when she parted with her husband.
+Such firm faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen that he
+thought he ran no hazard in this trial of her honor.
+
+Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance and a
+courteous welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but
+when he began to make professions of love to her she repulsed him
+with disdain, and he soon found that he could have no hope of
+succeeding in his dishonorable design.
+
+The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have
+recourse to a stratagem to impose upon Posthumus, and for this
+purpose he bribed some of Imogen’s attendants and was by them
+conveyed into her bedchamber, concealed in a large trunk, where
+he remained shut up till Imogen.was retired to rest and had
+fallen asleep; and then, getting out of the trunk, he examined
+the chamber with great attention, and wrote down everything he
+saw there, and particularly noticed a mole which he observed upon
+Imogen’s neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her
+arm, which Posthumus had given to her, he retired into the chest
+again; and the next day he set off for Rome with great
+expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen had given him
+the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in her
+chamber. And in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: “Her
+bedchamber,” said he, “was hung with tapestry of silk and silver,
+the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a
+piece of work most bravely wrought.”
+
+“This is true,” said Posthumus; “but this you might have heard
+spoken of without seeing.”
+
+“Then the chimney,” said Iachimo, “is south of the chamber, and
+the chimneypiece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures livelier
+expressed.” “This is a thing you might have likewise heard,” said
+Posthumus; “for it is much talked of.”
+
+Iachimo as accurately described the roof of the chamber; and
+added, “I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking
+Cupids made of silver, each on one foot standing.’” He then took
+out the bracelet, and said: “Know you this jewel, sir? She gave
+me this. She took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty
+action did outsell her gift, and yet enriched it, too. She gave
+it me, and said, SHE PRIZED IT ONCE.” He last of all described
+the mole he had observed upon her neck.
+
+Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital in an
+agony of doubt, now broke out into the most passionate
+exclamations against Imogen. He delivered up the diamond ring to
+Iachimo which he had agreed to forfeit to him if he obtained the
+bracelet from Imogen.
+
+Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of
+Britain, who was one of Imogen’s attendants, and had long been a
+faithful friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he
+had of his wife’s disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take
+Imogen to Milford Haven, a seaport of Wales, and there kill her.
+And at the same time he wrote a deceitful letter to Imogen,
+desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that, finding he could live
+no longer without seeing her, though he was forbidden upon pain
+of death to return to Britain, he would come to Milford Haven, at
+which place he begged she would meet him. She, good, unsuspecting
+lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired more
+than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio,
+and the same night she received the letter she set out.
+
+When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though
+faithful to Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil
+deed, disclosed to Imogen the cruel order he had received.
+
+Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband,
+found herself doomed by that husband to suffer death, was
+afflicted beyond measure.
+
+Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort and wait with patient
+fortitude for the time when Posthumus should see and repent his
+injustice. In the mean time, as she refused in her distress to
+return to her father’s court, he advised her to dress herself in
+boy’s clothes for more security in traveling; to which advice she
+agreed, and thought in that disguise she would go over to Rome
+and see her husband, whom, though he had used her so barbarously,
+she could no-t forget to love.
+
+When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel he left her to
+her uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but
+before he departed he gave her a vial of cordial, which he said
+the queen had given him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders.
+
+The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen
+and Posthumus, gave him this vial, which she supposed contained
+poison, she having ordered her physician to give her some poison,
+to try its effects (as she said) upon animals; but the physician,
+knowing her malicious disposition, would not trust her with real
+poison, but gave her a drug which would do no other mischief than
+causing a person to sleep with every appearance of death for a
+few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a choice cordial,
+he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill upon
+the road, to take it; and so, with blessings and prayers for her
+safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he
+left her.
+
+Providence strangely directed Imogen’s steps to the dwelling of
+her two brothers who had been stolen away in their infancy.
+Bellarius, who stole them away, was a lord in the court of
+Cymbeline, and, having been falsely accused to the king of
+treason and banished from the court, in revenge he stole away the
+two sons of Cymbeline and brought them up in a forest, where he
+lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge, but he
+soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children,
+educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their
+princely spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as
+they subsisted by hunting, they were active and hardy, and were
+always pressing their supposed father to let them seek their
+fortune in the wars.
+
+At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen’s fortune to
+arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest through which .her
+road lay to Milford Haven (from which she meant to embark for
+Rome); and being unable to find any place where she could
+purchase food, she was, with weariness and hunger, almost dying;
+for it is not merely putting on a man’s apparel that will enable
+a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the fatigue of
+wandering about lonely forests like a man.. Seeing this cave, she
+entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure
+food. She found the cave empty, but, looking about, she
+discovered some cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing that
+she could not wait for an invitation, but sat down and began to
+eat.
+
+“Ah,” said she, talking to herself, “I see a man’s life is a
+tedious one. How tired am I! For two nights together I have made
+the ground my bed. My resolution helps me, or I should be sick.
+When Pisanio showed me Milford Haven from the mountain-top, how
+near it seemed!” Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel
+mandate came across her, and she said, “My dear Posthumus, thou
+art a false one!”
+
+The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their
+reputed father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home.
+Bellarius had given them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and
+they knew no better, but supposed that Bellarius was their
+father; but the real names of these princes were Guiderius and
+Arviragus.
+
+Bellarius entered the cave first, and, seeing Imogen, stopped
+them, saying: “ Come not in yet. It eats our victuals, or I
+should think it was a fairy.”
+
+“What is the matter, sir?” said the young men.
+
+“By Jupiter!” said Bellarius, again, “there is an angel in the
+cave, or if not, an earthly paragon.” So beautiful did Imogen
+look in her boy’s apparel.
+
+She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave and
+addressed them in these words: “Good masters, do not harm me.
+Before I entered your cave I had thought to have begged or bought
+what I have eaten. Indeed, I have stolen nothing, nor would I,
+though I had found gold strewed on the floor. Here is money for
+my meat, which I would have left on the board when I had made my
+meal, and parted with prayers for the provider.”
+
+They refused her money with great earnestness.
+
+“I see you are angry with me,” said the timid Imogen; “but, sirs,
+if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I
+had not made it.”
+
+“Whither are you bound,” asked Bellarius, “and what is your
+name?”
+
+“Fidele is my name,” answered Imogen. “I have a kinsman who is
+bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford Haven, to whom being
+going, almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offense.”
+
+“Prithee, fair youth,” said old Bellarius, “do not think us
+churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in.
+‘You are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have
+better cheer before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.
+Boys, bid him welcome.”
+
+The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their
+cave with many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or,
+as they said, HIM) as a brother; and they entered the cave, where
+(they having killed venison when they were hunting) Imogen
+delighted them with her neat housewifery, assisting them in
+preparing their supper; for, though it is not the custom now for
+young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and
+Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily
+expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced
+their broth, as if Juno had been sick and Fidele were her dieter.
+
+“And then,” said Polydore to his brother, “how angel-like he
+sings!”
+
+They also remarked to each other that though Fidele smiled so
+sweetly, yet so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face,
+as if grief and patience had together taken possession of him.
+
+For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near
+relationship, though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys
+called her, Fidele) became the doting-piece of her brothers, and
+she scarcely less loved them, thinking that but for the memory of
+her dear Posthumus she could live and die in the cave with these
+wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to stay with them
+till she was enough rested from the fatigue of traveling to
+pursue her way to Milford Haven.
+
+When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going
+out to hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she
+was unwell. Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband’s
+
+cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest,
+was the cause of her illness.
+
+They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all
+the way the noble parts and graceful demeanor of the youth
+Fidele.
+
+Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected the cordial
+Pisanio had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into
+a sound and deathlike sleep.
+
+When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore
+went first into the cave, and, supposing her asleep, pulled off
+his heavy shoes, that he might tread softly and not awake her (so
+did true gentleness spring up in the minds of these princely
+foresters); but he soon discovered that she could not be awakened
+by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and Polydore lamented
+over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had never
+from their infancy been parted.
+
+Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and
+there celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges, as was
+then the custom.
+
+Imogen’s two brothers then carried her to a shady covert, and
+there, laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose to her
+departed spirit, and, covering her over with leaves and flowers,
+Polydore said:
+
+“While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew
+thy grave. The pale primrose, that flower most like thy face; the
+bluebell, like thy clear veins; and the leaf of eglantine, which
+is not sweeter than was thy breath-all these will I strew over
+thee. Yea, and the furred moss in winter, when there are no
+flowers to cover thy sweet corse.”
+
+When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed, very
+sorrowful.
+
+Imogen had not been long left alone when, the effect of the
+sleepy drug going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the
+slight covering of leaves and flowers they had thrown over her,
+she arose, and, imagining she had been dreaming, she said:
+
+“I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. How
+came I here covered with flowers?”
+
+Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing
+nothing of her new companions, she concluded it was certainly all
+a dream; and once more Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage,
+hoping at last she should find her way to Milford Haven, and
+thence get a passage in some ship bound for Italy; for all her
+thoughts were still with her husband, Posthumus, whom she
+intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
+
+But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen
+knew nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman
+Emperor Augustus Caesar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a
+Roman army had landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into
+the very forest over which Imogen was journeying. With this army
+came Posthumus.
+
+Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army, he did
+not mean to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but
+intended to join the army of Britain and fight in the cause of
+his king who had banished him.
+
+He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he
+had so fondly loved, and by his own orders, too (Pisanio having
+written him a letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that
+Imogen was dead), sat heavy on his heart, and therefore he
+returned to Britain, desiring either to be slain in battle or to
+be put to death by Cymbeline for returning home from banishment.
+
+Imogen, before she reached Milford Haven, fell into the hands of
+the Roman army, and, her presence and deportment recommending
+her, she was made a page to Lucius, the Roman general.
+
+Cymbeline’s army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they
+entered this forest Polydore and Cadwal joined the king’s army.
+The young men were eager to engage in acts of valor, though they
+little thought they were going to fight for their own royal
+father; and old Bellarius went with them to the battle.
+
+He had long since repented of the injury he had done to Cymbeline
+in carrying away his sons; and, having been a warrior in his
+youth, he gladly joined the army to fight for the king he had so
+injured.
+
+And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the
+Britons would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed,
+but for the extraordinary valor of Posthumus and Bellarius and
+the two sons of Cymbeline. They rescued the king and saved his
+life, and so entirely turned the fortune of the day that the
+Britons gained the victory.
+
+When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death
+he sought for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of
+Cymbeline, willing to suffer the death which was to be his
+punishment if he returned from banishment.
+
+Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners and brought
+before Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy, Iachimo, who was an
+officer in the Roman army. And when these prisoners were before
+the king, Posthumus was brought in to receive his sentence of
+death; and at this strange juncture of time Bellarius with
+Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before Cymbeline, to
+receive the rewards due to the great services they had by their
+valor done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king’s
+attendants, was likewise present.
+
+Therefore there were now standing in the king’s presence (but
+with very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with
+her new master the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio
+and the false friend Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of
+Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who had stolen them away.
+
+The Roman general was the first who spoke; the rest stood silent
+before the king, though there was many a beating heart among
+them.
+
+Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise
+of a peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire. And she
+knew Iachimo, and she saw a ring on his finger which she
+perceived to be her own., but she did not know him as yet to have
+been the author of all her troubles; and she stood before her own
+father a prisoner of war.
+
+Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the
+garb of a boy. “It is my mistress,” thought he. “Since she is
+living, let the time run on to good or bad.” Bellarius knew her,
+too, and softly said to Cadwal, “Is not this boy revived from
+death?”
+
+“One sand,” replied Cadwal, “does not more resemble another than
+that sweet, rosy lad is like the dead Fidele.”
+
+“The same dead thing alive,” said Polydore.
+
+“Peace, peace,” said Bellarius. “If it were he, I am sure be
+would have spoken to us.”
+
+“But we saw him dead,”, again whispered Polydore.
+
+“Be silent,” replied Bellarius.
+
+Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his
+own death; and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he
+had saved his life in the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline
+to pardon him.
+
+Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his
+protection as his page, was the first (as has been before said)
+who spoke to the king. He was a man of high courage and noble and
+this was his speech to the king:
+
+“I hear you take no ransom for your prisoners, but doom them all
+to death. I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer,
+death. But there is one thing for which I would entreat.” Then
+bringing Imogen before the king, he said: “This boy is a Briton
+born. Let him be ransomed. He is my page. Never master had a page
+so kind, so duteous, so diligent on all occasions, so true, so
+nurselike. He hath done no Briton wrong, though he hath served a
+Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside.”
+
+Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her
+not in that disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature
+spake in his heart, for he said: “I have surely seen him; his
+face appears familiar to me. I know not why or wherefore I say,
+live, boy, but I give you your life; and ask of me what boon you
+will and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it be the life of
+the noblest prisoner I have.”
+
+“I humbly thank your Highness,” said Imogen.
+
+What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to
+give any one thing, whatever it might be,. that the person on
+whom that favor was conferred chose to ask for.
+
+They all were attentive to hear what thing the page would ask
+for; and Lucius, her master, said to her:
+
+“I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will
+ask for.”
+
+“No, no, alas!” said Imogen. “I have other work in hand, good
+master. Your life I cannot ask for.”
+
+This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman
+general.
+
+Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon
+than this: that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had
+the ring he wore on his finger.
+
+Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the
+torture if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on
+his finger.
+
+Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villainy, in
+telling, as has been before related, the whole story of his wager
+with Posthumus and how he had succeeded in imposing upon is
+credulity.
+
+What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence of his
+lady cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward and confessed
+to Cymbeline the cruel sentence which he had enjoined Pisanio to
+execute upon the princess, exclaiming, wildly:
+
+“O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!”
+
+Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without
+discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was
+thus relieved from a weight of guilt and woe, and restored to the
+good graces of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
+
+Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding
+his lost daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her
+former place in his fatherly affection, and not only gave her
+husband Posthumus his life, but consented to acknowledge him for
+his son-in-law.
+
+Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation to make his
+confession. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling
+him they were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
+
+Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of
+punishments at a season of such universal happiness? To find his
+daughter living, and his lost sons in the persons of his young
+deliverers, that he had seen so bravely fight in his defense, was
+unlooked-for joy indeed!
+
+Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late
+master, the Roman general, Lucius, whose life the king, her
+father, readily granted at her request; and by the mediation of
+the same Lucius a peace was concluded between the Romans and the
+Britons which was kept inviolate many years.
+
+How Cymbeline’s wicked queen, through despair of bringing her
+projects to pass, and touched with remorse of conscience,
+sickened and died, having first lived to see her foolish son
+Cloten slain in a quarrel which he had provoked, are events too
+tragical to interrupt this happy conclusion by more than merely
+touching upon. It is sufficient that all were made happy who were
+deserving; and even the treacherous Iachimo, in consideration of
+his villainy having missed its final aim, was dismissed without
+punishment.
+
+
+
+
+KING LEAR
+
+
+Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters: Goneril, wife to the
+Duke of Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and
+Cordelia, a young maid, for whose love the King of France and
+Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors, and were at this time making
+stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
+
+The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government,
+he being more than fourscore years old, determined to take no
+further part in state affairs, but to leave the management to
+younger strengths, that he might have time to prepare for death,
+which must at no long period ensue. With this intent he called
+his three daughters to him, to know from their own lips which of
+them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among them in
+such proportions as their affection for him should seem to
+deserve.
+
+Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than
+words could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of
+her own eyes, dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such
+professing stuff, which is easy to counterfeit where there is no
+real love, only a few fine words delivered with confidence being
+wanted in that case. The king, delighted to hear from her own
+mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly that her
+heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon
+her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
+
+Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had
+to say. Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her
+sister, was not a whit behind in her professions, but rather
+declared that what her sister had spoken came short of the love
+which she professed to bear for his Highness; in so much that she
+found all other joys dead in comparison with the pleasure which
+she took in the love of her dear king and father.
+
+Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he
+thought; and could do no less, after the handsome assurances
+which Regan had made, than bestow a third of his kingdom upon her
+and her husband, equal in size to that which he had already
+given away to Goneril.
+
+Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called
+his joy, he asked what she had to say,thinking no doubt that she
+would glad his ears with the same loving speeches which her
+sisters had uttered, or rather that her expressions would be so
+much stronger than theirs, as she had always been his darling,
+and favored by him above either of them. But Cordelia, disgusted
+with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she knew were far
+from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches were
+only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that
+they and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no
+other reply but this--that she loved his Majesty according to her
+duty, neither more nor less.
+
+The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his
+favorite child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her
+speech, lest it should mar her fortunes.
+
+Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had
+given her breeding, and loved her; that she returned those duties
+back as was most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor
+him. But that she could not frame her mouth to such large
+speeches as her sisters had done, or promise to love nothing else
+in the world. Why had her sisters husbands if (as they said) they
+had no love for anything but their father? If she should ever
+wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would
+want half her love, half of her care and duty; she should never
+marry like her sisters, to love her father all.
+
+Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost
+extravagantly as her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly
+told him so at any other time, in more daughter-like and loving
+terms, and without these qualifications, which did indeed sound a
+little ungracious; but after the crafty, flattering speeches of
+her sisters, which she had seen draw such extravagant rewards,
+she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to love and be
+silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary
+ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain; and that her
+professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the
+more of truth and sincerity than her sisters’.
+
+This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the
+old monarch--who in his best of times always showed much of
+spleen and rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age
+had so clouded over his reason that he could not discern truth
+from flattery, nor a gaypainted speech from words that came from
+the heart--that in a fury of resentment he retracted the third
+part of his kingdom which yet remained, and which he had reserved
+for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing it equally
+between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany
+and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all
+his courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them
+jointly with all the power, revenue, and execution of government,
+only retaining to himself the name of king; all the rest of
+royalty he resigned, with this reservation, that himself, with a
+hundred knights for his attendants, was to be maintained by
+monthly course in each of his daughters’ palaces in turn.
+
+So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by
+reason, and so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with
+astonishment and sorrow; but none of them had the courage to
+interpose between this incensed king and his wrath, except the
+Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good word for
+Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him
+to desist; but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had
+been ever loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as
+a father, followed as a master; and he had never esteemed his
+life further than as a pawn to wage against his royal master’s
+enemies, nor feared to lose it when Lear’s safety was the motive;
+nor, now that Lear was most his own enemy, did this faithful
+servant of the king forget his old principles, but manfully
+opposed Lear to do Lear good; and was unmannerly only because
+Lear was mad. He had been a most faithful counselor in times past
+to the king, and he besought him now that he would see with his
+eyes (as he had done in many weighty matters) and go by his
+advice still, and in his best consideration recall this hideous
+rashness; for he would answer with his life his judgment that
+Lear’s youngest daughter did not love him least, nor were those
+empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of hollowness. When
+power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness. For Lear’s
+threats, what could he do to him whose life was already at his
+service? That should not hinder duty from speaking.
+
+The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the
+king’s wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his
+physician and loves his mortal disease, he banished this true
+servant, and allotted him but five days to make his preparations
+for departure; but if on the sixth his hated person was found
+within the realm of Britain, that moment was to be his death. And
+Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he chose to
+show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay
+there; and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the
+protection of the gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and
+so discreetly spoken; and only wished that her sisters’ large
+speeches might be answered with deeds of love; and then he went,
+as he said, to shape his old course to a new country.
+
+The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to
+hear the determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and
+to know whether they would persist in their courtship to
+Cordelia, now that she was under her father’s displeasure and had
+no fortune but her own person to recommend her. And the Duke of
+Burgundy declined the match, and would not take her to wife upon
+such conditions. But the King of France, understanding what the
+nature of the fault had been which had lost her the love of her
+father--that it was only a tardiness of speech and the not being
+able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters--took this
+young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry
+above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters
+and of her father, though he had been unkind, and she should go
+with him and be Queen of him and of fair France, and reign over
+fairer possessions than her sisters. And he called the Duke of
+Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke, because his love for this
+young maid had in a moment run all away like water.
+
+Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and
+besought them to love their father well and make good their
+professions; and they sullenly told her not to prescribe to them,
+for they knew their duty, but to strive to content her husband,
+who had taken her (as they tauntingly expressed it) as Fortune’s
+alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart departed, for she knew the
+cunning of her sisters and she wished her father in better hands
+than she was about to leave him in.
+
+Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her
+sisters began to show themselves ‘in their true colors. Even
+before the expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend
+by agreement ,with his , daughter, Goneril, the old king began to
+find out the difference between promises and performances. This
+wretch, having got from her father all that he had to bestow,
+even to the giving away of the crown from off his head, began to
+grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the old man had
+reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of being
+still a king. She could not bear to see him and his knights.
+Every time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance;
+and when the old man wanted to speak with her she would feign
+sickness or anything to get rid of the sight of him, for it was
+plain that she esteemed his old age a useless burden and his
+attendants an unnecessary expense; not only she herself slackened
+in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her example, and
+(it is to be feared) not without her private instructions, her
+very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would
+either refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously
+pretend not to hear them. Lear could not but perceive this
+alteration in the behavior of his daughter, but he shut his eyes
+against it as long as he could, as people commonly are unwilling
+to believe the unpleasant consequences which their own mistakes
+and obstinacy have brought upon them.
+
+True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than
+falsehood and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by GOOD,
+USAGE. This eminently appears in the instance of the good Earl of
+Kent, who, though banished by Lear, and his life made forfeit if
+he were found in Britain, chose to stay and abide all
+consequences as long as there was a chance of his being useful to
+the king his master. See to what mean shifts and disguises poor
+loyalty is forced to submit sometimes; yet it counts nothing base
+or unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an
+obligation! In the disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness
+and pomp laid aside, this good earl proffered his services to the
+king, who, not knowing him to be Kent in that disguise, but
+pleased with a certain plainness, or rather bluntness, in his
+answers, which the earl put on (so different from that smooth,
+oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having
+found the effects not answerable in his daughter), a bargain was
+quickly struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name
+of Caius, as he called himself, never suspecting him to be his
+once great favorite, the high and mighty Earl of Kent.
+
+This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to
+his royal master, for, Goneril’s steward that same day behaving
+in a disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and
+language, as no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his
+mistress, Caius, not enduring to hear so open an affront put upon
+his Majesty, made no more ado, but presently tripped up his heels
+and laid the unmannerly slave in the kennel; for which friendly
+service Lear became more and more attached to him.
+
+Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far
+as so insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor
+fool, or jester, that had been of his palace while Lear had a
+palace, as it was the custom of kings and great personages at
+that time to keep a fool (as he was called) to make them sport
+after serious business--this poor fool clung to Lear after he had
+given away his crown, and by his witty sayings would keep up his
+good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from jeering at
+his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving
+all away to his daughters; at which time, as he rhymingly
+expressed it, these daughters--
+
+   “For sudden joy did weep,
+       And I for sorrow sung,
+   That such a king should play bo-peep
+       And go the fools among.”
+
+And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had
+plenty, this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in
+the presence of Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest
+which cut to the quick, such as comparing the king to the
+hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the cuckoo till they grow
+old enough, and then has its head bit off for its pains; and
+saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse
+(meaning that Lear’s daughters, that ought to go behind, now
+ranked before their father); and that Lear was no longer Lear,
+but the shadow of Lear. For which free speeches he was once or
+twice threatened to be whipped.
+
+The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to
+perceive were not all which this foolish fond father was to
+suffer from his unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that
+his staying in her palace was inconvenient so long as he insisted
+upon keeping up an establishment of a hundred knights; that this
+establishment was useless and expensive and only served to fill
+her court with riot and feasting; and she prayed him that he
+would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him,
+such as himself, and fitting his age.
+
+Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was
+his daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she
+who had received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train
+and grudge him the respect due to his old age. But she persisting
+in her undutiful demand, the old man’s rage was so excited that
+he called her a detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth;
+and so indeed she did, for the hundred knights were all men of
+choice behavior and sobriety of manners, skilled in all
+particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or feasting, as she
+said. And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would go to
+his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights; and he
+spoke of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and
+showed more hideous in a child than the sea-monster. And he
+cursed his eldest daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear,
+praying that she might never have a child, or, if she had, that
+it might live to return that scorn and contempt upon her which
+she had shown to him; that she might feel how sharper than a
+serpent’s tooth it was to have a thankless child. And Goneril’s
+husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to excuse himself for any
+share which Lear might suppose he had in the unkindness, Lear
+would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses to be
+saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan,
+his other daughter. And Lear thought to himself how small the
+fault of Cordelia (if it was a fault) now appeared in comparison
+with her sister’s, and he wept; and then he was ashamed that such
+a creature as Goneril should have so much power over his manhood
+as to make him weep.
+
+Regan and her husband were keeping their court in great pomp and
+state at their palace; and Lear despatched his servant Caius with
+letters to his daughter, that she might be prepared for his
+reception, while he and his train followed after. But it seems
+that Goneril had been beforehand with him, sending letters also
+to Regan, accusing her father of waywardness and ill-humors, and
+advising her not to receive so great a train as he was bringing
+with him. This messenger arrived at the same time with Caius, and
+Caius and he met, and who should it be but Caius’s old enemy the
+steward, whom he had formerly tripped up by the heels for his
+saucy behavior to Lear. Caius not liking the fellow’s look, and,
+suspecting what he came for, began to revile him and challenged
+him to fight, which the fellow refusing, Caius, in a fit of
+honest passion, beat him soundly, as such a mischief-maker and
+carrier of wicked messages deserved; which coming to the ears of
+Regan and her husband, they ordered Caius to be put in the
+stocks, though he was a messenger from the king her father and in
+that character demanded the highest respect. So that the first
+thing the king saw when he entered the castle was his faithful
+servant Caius sitting in that disgraceful situation.
+
+This was but a bad omen of the reception which he was to expect;
+but a worse followed when, upon inquiry for his daughter and her
+husband, he was told they were weary with traveling all night and
+could not see him; and when, lastly, upon his insisting in a
+positive and angry manner to see them, they came to greet him,
+whom should he see in their company but the hated Goneril, who
+had come to tell her own story and set her sister against the
+king her father!
+
+This sight much moved the old man, and still more to see Regan
+take her by the hand; and he asked Goneril if she was not ashamed
+to look upon his old white beard. And Regan advised him to go
+home again with Goneril, and live with her peaceably, dismissing
+half of his attendants, and to ask her forgiveness; for he was
+old and wanted discretion, and must be ruled and led by persons
+that had more discretion than himself. And Lear showed how
+preposterous that would sound, if he were to go down on his knees
+and beg of his own daughter for food and raiment; and he argued
+against such an unnatural dependence, declaring his resolution
+never to return with her, but to stay where he was with Regan, he
+and his hundred knights; for he said that she had not forgot the
+half of the kingdom which he had endowed her with, and that her
+eyes were not fierce like Goneril’s, but mild and kind. And he
+said that rather than return to Goneril, with half his train cut
+off, he would go over to France and beg a wretched pension of the
+king there, who had married his youngest daughter without a
+portion.
+
+But he was mistaken in expecting kinder treatment of Regan than
+he had experienced from her sister Goneril. As if willing to
+outdo her sister in unfilial behavior, she declared that she
+thought fifty knights too many to wait upon him; that
+five-and-twenty were enough. Then Lear, nigh heartbroken, turned
+to Goneril and said that he would go back with her, for her fifty
+doubled five-and-twenty, and so her love was twice as much as
+Regan’s. But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so
+many as five-and twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be
+waited upon by her servants or her sister’s servants? So these
+two wicked daughters, as if they strove to exceed each other in
+cruelty to their old father, who had been so good to them, by
+little and little would have abated him of all his train, all
+respect (little enough for him that once commanded a kingdom)
+which was left him to show that he had once been a king! Not that
+a splendid train is essential to happiness, but from a king to a
+beggar is a hard change, from commanding millions to be without
+one attendant; and it was the ingratitude in his daughters’
+denying more than what he would suffer by the want of it, which
+pierced this poor king to the heart; in so much that, with this
+double ill-usage, and vexation for having so foolishly given away
+a kingdom, his wits began to be unsettled, and while he said he
+knew not what, he vowed revenge against those unnatural hags and
+to make examples of them that should be a terror to the earth!
+
+While he was thus idly threatening what his weak arm could never
+execute, night came on, and a loud storm of thunder and lightning
+with rain; and his daughters still persisting in their resolution
+not to admit his followers, he called for his horses, and chose
+rather to encounter the utmost fury of the storm abroad than stay
+under the same roof with these ungrateful daughters; and they,
+saying that the injuries which wilful men procure to themselves
+are their just punishment, suffered him to go in that condition
+and shut their doors upon him.
+
+The winds were high, and the rain and storm increased, when the
+old man sallied forth to combat with the elements, less sharp
+than his daughters’ unkindness. For many miles about there was
+scarce a bush; and there upon a heath, exposed to the fury of the
+storm in a dark night, did King Lear wander out, and defy the
+winds and the thunder; and he bid the winds to blow the earth
+into the sea, or swell the waves of the sea till they drowned the
+earth, that no token might remain of any such ungrateful animal
+as man. The old king was now left with no other companion than
+the poor fool, who still abided with him, with his merry conceits
+striving to outjest misfortune, saying it was but a naughty night
+to swim in, and truly the king had better go in and ask his
+daughter’s blessing:
+
+    But he that has a little tiny wit--
+       With heigh ho, the wind and the rain,--
+    Must make content with his fortunes fit
+       Though the rain it raineth every day,
+
+and swearing it was a brave night to cool a lady’s pride.
+
+Thus poorly accompanied, this once great monarch was found by his
+ever-faithful servant the good Earl of Kent, now transformed to
+Caius, who ever followed close at his side, though the king did
+not know him to be the earl; and be said:
+
+“Alas, sir, are you here? Creatures that love night love not such
+nights as these. This dreadful storm has driven the beasts to
+their hiding-places. Man’s nature cannot endure the affliction or
+the fear.”
+
+And Lear rebuked him and said these lesser evils were not felt
+where a greater malady was fixed. When the mind is at ease the
+body has leisure to be delicate, but the tempest in his mind did
+take all feeling else from his senses but of that which beat at
+his heart. And he spoke of filial ingratitude, and said it was
+all one as if the mouth should tear the hand for lifting food to
+it; for parents were hands and food and everything to children.
+
+But the good Caius still persisting in his entreaties that the
+king would not stay out in the open air, at last persuaded him to
+enter a little wretched hovel which stood upon the heath, where
+the fool first entering, suddenly ran back terrified, saying that
+he had seen a spirit. But upon examination this spirit proved to
+be nothing more than a poor Bedlam beggar who had crept into this
+deserted hovel for shelter, and with his talk about devils
+frighted the fool, one of those poor lunatics who are either mad,
+or feign to be so, the better to extort charity from the
+compassionate country people, who go about the country calling
+themselves poor Tom and poor Turlygood, saying, “Who gives
+anything to poor Tom?” sticking pins and nails and sprigs of
+rosemary into their arms to make them bleed; and with horrible
+actions, partly by prayers, and partly with lunatic curses, they
+move or terrify the ignorant country folk into giving them alms.
+This poor fellow was such a one; and the king, seeing him in so
+wretched a plight, with nothing but a blanket about his loins to
+cover his nakedness, could not be persuaded but that the fellow
+was some father who had given all away to his daughters and
+brought himself to that pass; for nothing, he thought, could
+bring a man to such wretchedness but the having unkind daughters.
+
+And from this and many such wild speeches which he uttered the
+good Caius plainly perceived that he was not in his perfect mind,
+but that his daughters’ ill-usage had really made him go mad. And
+now the loyalty of this worthy Earl of Kent showed itself in more
+essential services than he had hitherto found opportunity to
+perform. For with the assistance of some of the king’s attendants
+who remained loyal he had the person of his royal master removed
+at daybreak to the castle of Dover, where his own friends and
+influence, as Earl of Kent, chiefly lay; and himself, embarking
+for France, hastened to the court of Cordelia, and did there in
+such moving terms represent the pitiful condition of her royal
+father, and set out in such lively colors the inhumanity of her
+sisters, that this good and loving child with many tears besought
+the king, her husband, that he would give her leave to embark for
+England, with a sufficient power to subdue these cruel daughters
+and their husbands and restore the old king, her father, to his
+throne; which being granted, she set forth, and with a royal army
+landed at Dover.
+
+Lear, having by some chance escaped from the guardians which’ the
+good Earl of Kent had put over him to take care of him in his
+lunacy, was found by some of Cordelia’s train, wandering about
+the fields near Dover, in a pitiable condition, stark mad, and
+singing aloud to himself, with a crown upon his head which he had
+made of straw and nettles and other wild weeds that he had picked
+up in the corn-fields. By the advice of the physicians, Cordelia,
+though earnestly desirous of seeing her father, was prevailed
+upon to put off the meeting till, by sleep and the operation of
+herbs which they gave him, he should be restored to greater
+composure. By the aid of these skilful physicians, to whom
+Cordelia promised all her gold and jewels for the recovery of the
+old king, Lear was soon in a condition to see his daughter.
+
+A tender sight it was to see the meeting between this father and
+daughter; to see the struggles between the joy of this poor old
+king at beholding again his once darling child, and the shame at
+receiving such filial kindness from her whom he had cast off for
+so small a fault in his displeasure; both these passions
+struggling with the remains of his malady, which in his
+half-crazed brain sometimes made him that he scarce remembered
+where he was or who it was tb at so kindly kissed him and spoke
+to him. And then he would beg the standers-by not to laugh at him
+if he were mistaken in thinking this lady to be his daughter
+Cordelia! And then to see him fall on his knees to beg pardon of
+his child; and she, good lady, kneeling all the while to ask a
+blessing of him, and telling him that it did not become him to
+kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his child, his true and
+very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said) to kiss
+away all her sisters’ unkindness, and said that they might be
+ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his
+white beard out into the cold air, when her enemy’s dog, though
+it had bit her (as she prettily expressed it), should have stayed
+by her fire such a night as that, and warmed himself. And she
+told her father how she had come from France with purpose to
+bring him assistance; and he said that she must forget and
+forgive, for he was old and foolish and did not know what he did;
+but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but her
+sisters had none. And Cordelia said that she had no cause, no
+more than they had.
+
+So we will leave this old king in the protection of his dutiful
+and loving child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she
+and her physicians at length succeeded in winding up the untuned
+and jarring senses which the cruelty of his other daughters had
+so violently shaken. Let us return to say a word or two about
+those cruel daughters.
+
+These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old
+father, could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own
+husbands. They soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of
+duty and affection, and in an open way showed they had fixed
+their loves upon another. It happened that the object of their
+guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a natural son of the
+late Earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had succeeded in
+disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his
+earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a
+wicked man, and a fit object for the love of such wicked
+creatures as Goneril and Regan. It falling out about this time
+that the Duke of Cornwall, Regan’s husband, died, Regan
+immediately declared her intention of wedding this Earl of
+Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as
+well as to Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed
+love, Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison;
+but being detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her
+husband, the Duke of Albany, for this deed, and for her guilty
+passion for the earl which had come to his ears, she, in a fit of
+disappointed love and rage, shortly put an end to her own life.
+Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these wicked
+daughters.
+
+While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the
+justice displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were
+suddenly taken off from this sight to admire at the mysterious
+ways of the same power in the melancholy fate of the young and
+virtuous daughter, the Lady Cordelia, whose good deeds did seem
+to deserve a more fortunate conclusion. But it is an awful truth
+that innocence and piety are not always successful in this world.
+The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the command
+of the bad Earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by
+the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any
+should stand between him and the throne, ended her life in
+prison. Thus heaven took this innocent lady to itself in her
+young years, after showing her to the world an illustrious
+example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive this kind
+child.
+
+Before he died, the good Earl of Kent, who had still attended his
+old master’s steps from the first of his daughters’ ill-usage to
+this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that
+it was he who had followed him under the name of Caius; but
+Lear’s care-crazed brain at that time could not comprehend how
+that could be, or how Kent and Caius could be the same person, so
+Kent thought it needless to trouble him with explanations at such
+a time; and, Lear soon after expiring, this faithful servant to
+the king, between age and grief for his old master’s vexations,
+soon followed him to the grave.
+
+How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad Earl of Gloucester,
+whose treasons were discovered, and himself slain in single
+combat with his brother, the lawful earl, and how Goneril’s
+husband, the Duke of Albany, who was innocent of the death of
+Cordelia, and had never encouraged his lady in her wicked
+proceedings against her father, ascended the throne of Britain
+after the death of Lear, it is needless here to narrate, Lear and
+his three daughters being dead, whose adventures alone concern
+our story.
+
+
+
+
+MACBETH
+
+
+When Duncan the Meek reigned King of Scotland there lived a great
+thane, or lord, called Macbeth. This Macbeth was a near kinsman
+to the king, and in great esteem at court for his valor and
+conduct in the wars, an example of which he had lately given in
+defeating a rebel army assisted by the troops of Norway in
+terrible numbers.
+
+The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and Banquo, returning
+victorious from this great battle, their way lay over a blasted
+heath, where they were stopped by the strange appearance of three
+figures like women, except that they had beards, and their
+withered skins and wild attire made them look not like any
+earthly creatures. Macbeth first addressed them, when they,
+seemingly offended, laid each one her choppy finger upon her
+skinny lips, in token of silence; and the first of them saluted
+Macbeth with the title of Thane of Glamis. The general was not a
+little startled to find himself known by such creatures; but how
+much more, when the second of them followed up that salute by
+giving him the title of Thane of Cawdor, to which honor he had no
+pretensions; and again the third bid him, “All hail! that shalt
+be king hereafter!” Such a prophetic greeting might well amaze
+him, who knew that while the king’s sons lived he could not hope
+to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo, they pronounced
+him, in a sort of riddling terms, to be LESSER THAN MACBETH, AND
+GREATER! NOT SO HAPPY, BUT MUCH HAPPIER! and prophesied that
+though he should never reign, yet his sons after him should be
+kings in Scotland. They then turned into air and vanished; by
+which the generals knew them to be the weird sisters, or witches.
+
+While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adventure
+there arrived certain messengers from the king, who were
+empowered by him to confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of
+Cawdor. An event so miraculously corresponding with the
+prediction of the witches astonished Macbeth, and he stood
+wrapped in amazement, unable to make reply to the messengers; and
+in that point of time swelling hopes arose in his mind that the
+prediction of the third witch might in like manner have its
+accomplishment, and that he should one day reign king in
+Scotland.
+
+Turning to Banquo, he said, “Do you not hope that your children
+shall be kings, when what the witches promised to me has so
+wonderfully come to pass?”
+
+“That hope,” answered the general, “might enkindle you to aim at
+the throne; but oftentimes these ministers of darkness tell us
+truths in little things, to betray us into deeds of greatest
+consequence.”
+
+But the wicked suggestions of the witches had sunk too deep into
+the mind of Macbeth to allow him to attend to the warnings of the
+good Banquo. From that time he bent all his thoughts how to
+compass the throne of Scotland.
+
+Macbeth had a wife, to whom he communicated the strange
+prediction of the weird sisters and its partial accomplishment.
+She was a bad, ambitious woman, and so as her husband and herself
+could arrive at greatness she cared not much by what means. She
+spurred on the reluctant purpose of Macbeth, who felt compunction
+at the thoughts of blood, and did not cease to represent the
+murder of the king as a step absolutely necessary to the
+fulfilment of the flattering prophecy.
+
+It happened at this time that the king, who out of his royal
+condescension would oftentimes visit his principal nobility upon
+gracious terms, came to Macbeth’s house, attended by his two
+sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, and a numerous train of thanes and
+attendants, the more to honor Macbeth for the triumphal success
+of his wars.
+
+The castle of Macbeth was pleasantly situated and the air about
+it was sweet and wholesome, which appeared by the nests which the
+martlet, or swallow, had built under all the jutting friezes and
+buttresses of the building, wherever it found a place of
+advantage; for where those birds most breed and haunt the air is
+observed to be delicate. The king entered, well pleased with the
+place, and not less so with the attentions and respect of his
+honored hostess, Lady Macbeth, who had the art of covering
+treacherous purposes with smiles, and could look like the
+innocent flower while she was indeed serpent under it.
+
+The king, being tired with his journey, went early to bed, and in
+his state-room two grooms of his chamber (as was the custom)
+beside him. He had been unusually pleased with his reception, and
+had made presents before he retired to his principal ; and among
+the rest had sent a diamond to Lady Macbeth, greeting the name of
+his most kind hostess.
+
+Now was the middle of night, when over half the world nature
+seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse men’s minds asleep, and none
+but the wolf and the murderer are abroad. This was the time when
+Lady Macbeth waked to plot the murder of the king. She would not
+have undertaken a deed so abhorrent to her sex but that she
+feared her husband’s nature, that it was too full of the milk of
+human kindness to do a contrived murder. She knew him to be
+ambitious, but withal to be scrupulous, and not yet prepared for
+that height of crime which commonly in the end accompanies
+inordinate ambition. She had won him to consent to the murder,
+but she doubted his resolution; and she feared that the natural
+tenderness of his disposition (more humane than her own) would
+come between and defeat the purpose. So with her own hands armed
+with a dagger she approached the king’s bed, having taken care to
+ply the grooms of his chamber so with wine that they slept
+intoxicated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan in a
+sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed
+him earnestly there was something in his face, as he slept, which
+resembled her own father, and she had not the courage to proceed.
+
+She returned to confer with her husband. His resolution had begun
+to stagger. He considered that there were strong reasons against
+the deed. In the first place, he was not only a subject, but a
+near kinsman to the king; and he had been his host and
+entertainer that day, whose duty, by the laws of hospitality, it
+was to shut the door against his murderers, not bear the knife
+himself. Then he considered how just and merciful a king this
+Duncan had been, how clear of offense to his subjects, how loving
+to his nobility, and in particular to him; that such kings are
+the peculiar care of Heaven, and their subjects doubly bound to
+revenge their deaths. Besides, by the favors of the king, Macbeth
+stood high in the opinion of all sorts of men, and how would
+those honors be stained by the reputation of so foul a murder!
+
+In these conflicts of the mind Lady Macbeth found her husband
+inclining to the better part and resolving to proceed no further.
+But she, being a woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose,
+began to pour in at his ears words which infused a portion of her
+own spirit into his mind, assigning reason upon reason why he
+should not shrink from what he had undertaken; how easy the deed
+was; how soon it would be over; and how the action of one short
+night would give to all their nights and days to come sovereign
+sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on his change of
+purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cowardice; and
+declared that she had given suck, and knew how tender it was to
+love the babe that milked her, but she would, while it was
+smiling in her face, have plucked it from her breast and dashed
+its brains out if she had so sworn to do it as he had sworn to
+perform that murder. Then she added, how practicable it was to
+lay the guilt of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And
+with the valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish
+resolutions that he once more summoned up courage to the bloody
+business.
+
+So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark to
+the room where Duncan lay; and as he went he thought he saw
+another dagger in the air, with the handle toward him, and on the
+blade and at the point of it drops of blood; but when be tried to
+grasp at it it was nothing but air, a mere phantasm proceeding
+from his own hot and oppressed brain and the business he had in
+hand.
+
+Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king’s room, whom he
+despatched with one stroke of his dagger. just as he had done the
+murder one of the grooms who slept in the chamber laughed in his
+sleep, and the other cried, “Murder,” which woke them both.
+
+But they said a short prayer; one of them said, “God less us!”
+ and the other answered, “Amen”; and addressed themselves to sleep
+again. Macbeth, who stood listening to them, tried to say “Amen”
+ when the fellow said “God bless us!” but, though he had most need
+of a blessing, the word stuck in his throat and he could not
+pronounce it.
+
+Again he thought he heard a voice which cried: “Sleep no more!
+Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, that nourishes
+life.” Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all the house. “Glamis
+hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,
+Macbeth shall sleep no more.”
+
+With such horrible imaginations Macbeth returned to his listening
+wife, who began to think he had failed of his purpose and that
+the deed was somehow frustrated. He came in so distracted a state
+that she reproached him with his want of firmness and sent him to
+wash his hands of the blood which stained them, while she took
+his dagger, with purpose to stain the cheeks of the grooms with
+blood, to make it seem their guilt.
+
+Morning came, and with it the discovery of the murder, which
+could not be concealed; and though Macbeth and his lady made
+great show of grief, and the proofs against the grooms (the
+dagger being produced against them and their faces smeared with
+blood) were sufficiently strong, yet the entire suspicion fell
+upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much more
+forcible than such poor silly grooms could be supposed to have;
+and Duncan’s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought for
+refuge in the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made
+his escape to Ireland.
+
+The king’s sons, who should have succeeded him, having thus
+vacated the throne, Macbeth as next heir was crowned king, and
+thus the prediction of the weird sisters was literally
+accomplished.
+
+Though placed so high, Macbeth and his queen could not forget the
+prophecy of the weird sisters that, though Macbeth should be
+king, yet not his children, but the children of Banquo, should be
+kings after him. The thought of this, and that they had defiled
+their hands with blood, and done so great crimes, only to place
+the posterity of Banquo upon the throne, so rankled within them
+that they determined to put to death both Banquo and his son, to
+make void the predictions of the weird sisters, which in their
+own case had been so remarkably brought to pass.
+
+For this purpose they made a great supper, to which they invited
+all the chief thanes; and among the rest, with marks of
+particular respect, Banquo and his son Fleance were invited. The
+way by which Banquo was to pass to the palace at night was beset
+by murderers appointed by Macbeth, who stabbed Banquo; but in the
+scuffle Fleance escaped. From that Fleance descended a race of
+monarchs who afterward filled the Scottish throne, ending with
+James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England, under whom
+the two crowns of England and Scotland were united.
+
+At supper, the queen, whose manners were in the highest degree
+affable and royal, played the hostess with a gracefulness and
+attention which conciliated every one present, and Macbeth
+discoursed freely with his thanes and nobles, saying that all
+that was honorable in the country was under his roof, if he had
+but his good friend Banquo present, whom yet he hoped he should
+rather have to chide for neglect than to lament for any
+mischance. just at these words the ghost of Banquo, whom he had
+caused to be murdered, entered the room and placed himself on the
+chair which Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a
+bold man, and one that could have faced the devil without
+trembling, at this horrible sight his cheeks turned white with
+fear and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes fixed upon the
+ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but
+perceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took
+it for a fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering
+that it was but the same fancy which made him see the dagger in
+the air when he was about to kill Duncan. But Macbeth continued
+to see the ghost, and gave no heed to all they could say, while
+he addressed it with distracted words, yet so significant that
+his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be disclosed, in
+great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity of
+Macbeth as disorder he was often troubled with.
+
+To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject. His queen and he
+had their sleeps afflicted with terrible dreams, and the blood of
+Banquo troubled them not more than the escape of Fleance, whom
+now they looked upon as father to a line of kings who should keep
+their posterity out of the throne. With these miserable thoughts
+they found no peace, and Macbeth determined once more to seek out
+the weird sisters and know from them the worst.
+
+He sought them in a cave upon the heath, where they, who knew by
+foresight of his coming, were engaged in preparing their dreadful
+charms by which they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to
+them futurity. Their horrid ingredients were toads, bats, and
+serpents, the eye of a newt and the tongue of a dog, the leg of a
+lizard and the wing of the night-owl, the scale of a dragon, the
+tooth of a wolf, the maw of the ravenous salt-sea shark, the
+mummy of a witch, the root of the poisonous hemlock (this to have
+effect must be digged in the dark), the gall of a goat, and the
+liver of a Jew, with slips of the yew-tree that roots itself in
+graves, and the finger of a dead child. All these were set on to
+boil in a great kettle, or caldron, which, as fast as it grew too
+hot, was cooled with a baboon’s blood. To these they poured in
+the blood of a sow that had eaten her young, and they threw into
+the flame the grease that had sweaten from a murderer’s gibbet.
+By these charms they bound the infernal spirit to answer their
+questions.
+
+It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his doubts
+resolved by them or by their masters, the spirits.
+
+He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which be saw,
+boldly answered: “Where are they? Let me see them.”
+
+And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first
+arose in the likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by
+name and bid him beware of the Thane of Fife; for which caution
+Macbeth thanked him; for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of
+Macduff, the Thane of Fife.
+
+And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child,
+and he called Macbeth by name and bid him have no fear, but laugh
+to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born should have
+power to hurt him; and he advised him to be bloody, bold, and
+resolute.
+
+“Then live, Macduff!” cried the king. “What need I fear thee? But
+yet I will make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live, that
+I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of
+thunder.”
+
+That spirit being dismissed, a third arose in the form of a child
+crowned, with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name and
+comforted him against conspiracies, saying that he should never
+be vanquished until the wood of Birnam to Dunsinane hill should
+come against him.
+
+“Sweet bodements! good!” cried Macbeth; “who can unfix the
+forest, and move it from its earth-bound roots? I see I shall
+live the usual period of man’s life, and not be cut off by a
+violent death. But my heart throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if
+your art can tell so much, if Banquo’s issue shall ever reign in
+this kingdom?”
+
+Here the caldron sank into the ground, and a noise of music was
+heard, and eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and
+Banquo last, who bore a glass which showed the figures of many
+more, and Banquo, all bloody, smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to
+them; by which Macbeth knew that these were the posterity of
+Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and the witches,
+with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making a show of
+duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And from this time the
+thoughts of Macbeth were all bloody and dreadful. The first thing
+he heard when he got out of the witches’ cave was that Macduff,
+Thane of Fife, had fled to England to join the army which was
+forming against him under Malcolm, the eldest son of the late
+king, with intent to displace Macbeth and set Malcolm, the right
+heir, upon the throne. Macbeth, stung with rage, set upon the
+castle of Macduff and put his wife and children, whom the thane
+had left behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all
+who claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
+
+These and such-like deeds alienated the minds of all his chief
+nobility from him. Such as could fled to join with Malcolm and
+Macduff, who were now approaching with a powerful army which they
+had raised in England; and the rest secretly wished success to
+their arms, though, for fear of Macbeth, they could take no
+active part. His recruits went on slowly. Everybody hated the
+tyrant; nobody loved or honored him; but all suspected him; and
+he began to envy the condition of Duncan, whom he had murdered,
+who slept soundly in his grave, against whom treason had done its
+worst. Steel nor poison, domestic malice nor foreign levies,
+could hurt him any longer.
+
+While these things were acting, the queen, who had been the sole
+partner in his wickedness, in whose bosom he could sometimes seek
+a momentary repose from those terrible dreams which afflicted
+them both nightly, died, it is supposed, by her own hands, unable
+to bear the remorse of guilt and public hate; by which event he
+was left alone, without a soul to love or care for him, or a
+friend to whom he could confide his wicked purposes.
+
+He grew careless of life and wished for death; but the near
+approach of Malcolm’s army roused in him what remained of his
+ancient courage, and he determined to die (as he expressed it)
+“with armor on his back.” Besides this, the hollow promises of
+the witches had filled him with a false confidence, and he
+remembered the sayings of the spirits, that none of woman born
+was to hurt him, and that he was never to be vanquished till
+Birnam wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought could
+never be. So he shut himself up in his castle, whose impregnable
+strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly waited the
+approach of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there came a messenger to
+him, pale and shaking with fear, almost unable to report that
+which he had seen; for he averred, that as he stood upon his
+watch on the hill he looked toward Birnam, and to his thinking
+the wood began to move!
+
+“Liar and slave!” cried Macbeth. “If thou speakest false, thou
+shalt hang alive upon the next tree, till famine end thee. If thy
+tale be true, I care not if thou dost as much by me”; for Macbeth
+now began to faint in resolution, and to doubt the equivocal
+speeches of the spirits. He was not to fear till Birnam wood
+should come to Dunsinane; and now a wood did move! “However,”
+ said he, “if this which he avouches be true, let us arm and out.
+There is no flying hence, nor staying here. I begin to be weary
+of the sun, and wish my life at an end.” With these desperate
+speeches he sallied forth upon the besiegers, who had now come up
+to the castle.
+
+The strange appearance which had given the messenger an idea of a
+wood moving is easily solved. When the besieging army marched
+through the wood of Birnam, Malcolm, like a skilful general,
+instructed his soldiers to hew down every one a bough and bear it
+before him, by way of concealing the true numbers of his host.
+This marching of the soldiers with boughs had at a distance the
+appearance which had frightened the messenger. Thus were the
+words of the spirit brought to pass, in a sense different from
+that in which Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of
+his confidence was gone.
+
+And now a severe skirmishing took place, in which Macbeth, though
+feebly supported by those who called themselves his friends, but
+in reality hated the tyrant and inclined to the party of Malcolm
+and Macduff, yet fought with the extreme of rage and valor,
+cutting to pieces all who were opposed to him, till he came to
+where Macduff was fighting. Seeing Macduff, and remembering the
+caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid Macduff,
+above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff, who had been
+seeking him through the whole fight, opposed his turning, and a
+fierce contest ensued, Macduff giving him many foul reproaches
+for the murder of his wife and children. Macbeth, whose soul was
+charged enough with blood of that family already, would still
+have declined the combat; but Macduff still urged him to it,
+calling him tyrant, murderer, hell-hound, and villain.
+
+Then Macbeth remembered the words of the spirit, how none of
+woman born should hurt him; and, smiling confidently, he said to
+Macduff:
+
+“Thou losest thy labor, Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress
+the air with thy sword as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed
+life, which must not yield to one of woman born.”
+
+“Despair thy charm,” said Macduff, “and let that lying spirit
+whom thou hast served tell thee that Macduff was never born of
+woman, never as the ordinary manner of men is to be born, but was
+untimely taken from his mother.”
+
+“Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,” said the trembling
+Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; “and let
+never man in future believe the lying equivocations of witches
+and juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have double
+senses, and, while they keep their promise literally, disappoint
+our hopes with a different meaning. I will not fight with thee.”
+
+“Then live!” said the scornful Macduff. “We will have a show of
+thee, as men show monsters, and a painted board, on which all be
+written, ‘Here men may see the tyrant!’”
+
+“Never,” said Macbeth, whose courage returned with despair. “I
+will not live to kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet to
+be baited with the curses of the rabble. Though Birnam wood be
+come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed to me, who wast born of
+woman, yet will I try the last.”
+
+With these frantic words he threw himself upon Macduff, who,
+after a severe struggle, in the end overcame him, and, cutting
+off his head, made a present of it to the young and lawful king,
+Malcolm, who took upon him the government which, by the
+machinations of the usurper, he had so long been deprived of, and
+ascended the throne of Duncan the Meek among the acclamations of
+the nobles and the people.
+
+
+
+
+ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+Bertram, Count of Rousillon, had newly come to his title and
+estate by the death of his father. The King of France loved the
+father of Bertram, and when he heard of his death he sent for his
+son to come immediately to his royal court in Paris, intending,
+for the friendship he bore the late count, to grace young Bertram
+with his especial favor and protection.
+
+Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when
+Lafeu, an old lord of the French court, came to conduct him to
+the king. The King of France was an absolute monarch and the
+invitation to court was in the form of a royal mandate, or
+positive command, which no subject, of what high dignity soever,
+might disobey; therefore, though the countess, in parting with
+this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose
+loss she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a
+single day, but gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who
+came to fetch him, tried to comfort the countess for the loss of
+her late lord and her son’s sudden absence; and he said, in a
+courtier’s flattering manner, that the king was so kind a prince,
+she would find in his Majesty a husband, and that he would be a
+father to her son; meaning only that the good king would befriend
+the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the king
+had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his
+physicians to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on
+hearing this account of the king’s ill health, and said she
+wished the father of Helena (a young gentlewoman who was present
+in attendance upon her) were living that she doubted not he could
+have cured his Majesty of his disease. And she told Lafeu
+something of the history of Helena, saying she was the only
+daughter of the famous physician, Gerard de Narbon, and that he
+had recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so
+that since his death she had taken Helena under her protection;
+then the countess praised the virtuous disposition and excellent
+qualities of Helena, saying she inherited these virtues from her
+worthy father. While she was speaking, Helena wept in sad and
+mournful silence, which made the countess gently reprove her for
+too much grieving for her father’s death.
+
+Bertram now bade his mother farewell. The countess parted with
+this dear son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to
+the care of Lafeu, saying:
+
+“Good my lord, advise him, for he is an unseasoned courtier.”
+
+Bertram’s last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words
+of mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his
+short farewell to her with saying:
+
+“Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of
+her.”
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and
+mournful silence the tears she shed were not for Gerard de
+Narbon.. Helena loved her father, but in the present feeling of a
+deeper love, the object of which she was about to lose, she had
+forgotten the very form and features of her dead father, her
+imagination presenting no image to her mind but Bertram’s.
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he
+was the Count of Rousillon, descended from the most ancient
+family in France. She of humble birth. Her parents of no note at
+all. His ancestors all noble. And therefore she looked up to the
+high-born Bertram as to her master and to her dear lord, and
+dared not form any wish but to live his servant, and, so living,
+to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her between
+his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes that she would say:
+
+“It were all one that I should love a bright particular star, and
+think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me.”
+
+Bertram’s absence filled her eyes with tears and her heart with
+sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty
+comfort to her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and
+look upon his dark eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his
+fine hair till she seemed to draw his portrait on the tablet of
+her heart, that heart too capable of retaining the memory of
+every line in the features of that loved face.
+
+Gerard de Narbon, when he died, left her no other portion than
+some prescriptions of rare and well-proved virtue, which, by deep
+study and long experience in medicine, he had collected as
+sovereign and almost infallible remedies. Among the rest there
+was one set down as an approved medicine for the disease under
+which Lafeu said the king at that time languished; and when
+Helena heard of the king’s complaint, she, who till now had been
+so humble and so hopeless, formed an ambitious project in her
+mind to go herself to Paris and undertake the cure of the king.
+But though Helena was the possessor of this choice prescription,
+it was unlikely, as the king as well as his physicians was of
+opinion that his disease was incurable, that they would give
+credit to a poor unlearned virgin if she should offer to perform
+a cure. The firm hopes that Helena had of succeeding, if she
+might be permitted to make the trial, seemed more than even her
+father’s skill warranted, though he was the most famous physician
+of his time; for she felt a strong faith that this good medicine
+was sanctified by all the luckiest stars in heaven to be the
+legacy that should advance her fortune, even to the high dignity
+of being Count Rousillon’s wife.
+
+Bertram had not been long gone when the countess was informed by
+her steward that he had overheard Helena talking to herself, and
+that he understood, from some words she uttered, she was in love
+with Bertram and thought of following him to Paris. The countess
+dismissed the steward with thanks, and desired him to tell Helena
+she wished to speak with her. What she had just heard of Helena
+brought the remembrance of days long past into the mind of the
+countess; those days, probably, when her love for Bertram’s
+father first began; and she said to herself:
+
+“Even so it was with me when I was young. Love is a thorn that
+belongs to the rose of youth; for in the season of youth, if ever
+we are Nature’s children, these faults are ours, though then we
+think not they are faults.”
+
+While the countess was thus meditating on the loving errors of
+her own youth, Helena entered, and she said to her, “Helena, you
+know I am a mother to you.”
+
+Helena replied, “You are my honorable mistress.”
+
+“You are my daughter,” said the countess again. “I say I am your
+mother. Why do you start and look pale at my words?”
+
+With looks of alarm and confused thoughts, fearing the countess
+suspected her love, Helena still replied, “Pardon me, madam, you
+are not my mother; the Count Rousillon cannot be my brother, nor
+I your daughter.”
+
+“Yet, Helena,” said the countess, “you might be my
+daughter-in-law; and I am afraid that is what you mean to be, the
+words MOTHER and DAUGHTER so disturb you. Helena, do you love my
+son?”
+
+“Good madam, pardon me,” said the affrighted Helena.
+
+Again the countess repeated her question. “Do you love my son?”
+
+“Do not you love him, madam?” said Helena.
+
+The countess replied: “Give me not this evasive answer, Helena.
+Come, come, disclose the state of your affections, for your love
+has to the full appeared.”
+
+Helena, on her knees now, owned her love, and with shame and
+terror implored the pardon of her noble mistress; and with words
+expressive of the sense she had of the inequality between their
+fortunes she protested Bertram did not know she loved him,
+comparing her humble, unaspiring love to a poor Indian who adores
+the sun that looks upon his worshiper but knows of him no more.
+The countess asked Helena if she had not lately an intent to go
+to Paris. Helena owned the design she had formed in her mind when
+she heard Lafeu speak of the king’s illness.
+
+“This was your motive for wishing to go to Paris,” said the
+countess, “was it? Speak truly.”
+
+Helena honestly answered, “My lord your son made me to think of
+this; else Paris. and the medicine and the king had from the
+conversation of my thoughts been absent then.”
+
+The countess heard the whole of this confession without saying a
+word either of approval or of blame, but she strictly questioned
+Helena as to the probability of the medicine being useful to the
+king. She found that it was the most prized by Gerard de Narbon
+of all he possessed, and that he had given it to his daughter on
+his death-bed; and remembering the solemn promise she had made at
+that awful hour in regard to this young maid, whose destiny, and
+the life of the king himself, seemed to depend on the execution
+of a project (which, though conceived by the fond suggestions of
+a loving maiden’s thoughts, the countess knew not but it might be
+the unseen workings of Providence to bring to pass the recovery
+of the king and to lay the foundation of the future fortunes of
+Gerard de Narbon’s daughter), free leave she gave to Helena to
+pursue her own way, and generously furnished her with ample means
+and suitable attendants; and Helena set out for Paris with the
+blessings of the countess and her kindest wishes for her success.
+
+Helena arrived at Paris, and by the assistance of her friend, the
+old Lord Lafeu, she obtained an audience of the king. She had
+still many difficulties to encounter, for the king was not easily
+prevailed on to try the medicine offered him by this fair young
+doctor. But she told him she was Gerard de Narbon’s daughter
+(with whose fame the king was well acquainted), and she offered
+the precious medicine as the darling treasure which contained the
+essence of all her father’s long experience and skill, and she
+boldly engaged to forfeit her life if it failed to restore his
+Majesty to perfect health in the space of two days. The king at
+length consented to try it, and in two days’ time Helena was to
+lose her fife if the king did not recover; but if she succeeded,
+he promised to give her the choice of any man throughout all
+France (the princes only excepted) whom she could like for a
+husband; the choice of a husband being the fee Helena demanded if
+she cured the king of his disease.
+
+Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the
+efficacy of her father’s medicine. Before two days were at an
+end the king was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all
+the young noblemen of his court together, in order to confer the
+promised reward of a husband upon his fair physician; and he
+desired Helena to look round on this youthful parcel of noble
+bachelors and choose her husband. Helena was not slow to make her
+choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count Rousillon,
+and, turning to Bertram, she said:
+
+“This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give
+me and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power.”
+
+“Why, then,” said the king, “young Bertram, take her; she is your
+wife.”
+
+Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present
+of the king’s of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a
+poor physician’s daughter, bred at his father’s charge, and now
+living a dependent on his mother’s bounty.
+
+Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and
+she said to the king: “That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let
+the rest go.”
+
+But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so
+slighted, for the power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was
+one of the many privileges of the kings of France, and that same
+day Bertram was married to Helena, a forced and uneasy marriage
+to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the poor lady, who,
+though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her life to
+obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband’s
+love not being a gift in the power of the King of France to
+bestow.
+
+Helena was no sooner married than she was desired by Bertram to
+apply to the king for him for leave of absence from court; and
+when she brought him the king’s permission for his departure,
+Bertram told her that he was not prepared for this sudden
+marriage, it had much unsettled him, and therefore she must not
+wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena wondered not,
+she grieved when she found it was his intention to leave her. He
+ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this
+unkind command, she replied:
+
+“Sir, I can nothing say to this but that I am your most obedient
+servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that
+desert wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great
+fortunes.”
+
+But this humble speech of Helena’s did not at all move the
+haughty Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her
+without even the common civility of a kind farewell.
+
+Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished
+the purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the
+king, and she had wedded her heart’s dear lord, the Count
+Rousillon; but she returned back a dejected lady to her noble
+mother-in-law, and as soon as she entered the house she received
+a letter from Bertram which almost broke her heart.
+
+The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she
+had been her son’s own choice and a lady of a high degree, and
+she spoke kind words to comfort her for the unkind neglect of
+Bertram in sending his wife home on her bridal day alone. But
+this gracious reception failed to cheer the sad mind of Helena,
+and she said:
+
+“Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.” She then read these words
+out of Bertram’s letter:
+
+“When you can get the ring from my finger, which never shall come
+off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write a Never.”
+
+“This is a dreadful sentence!” said Helena.
+
+The countess begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram
+was gone, she should be her child and that she deserved a lord
+that twenty such rude boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly
+call her mistress. But in vain by respectful condescension and
+kind flattery this matchless mother tried to soothe the sorrows
+of her daughter-in-law.
+
+Helena still kept her eyes fixed upon the letter, and cried out
+in an agony of grief, “TILL I HAVE NO WIFE, I HAVE NOTHING IN
+FRANCE.” The countess asked her if she found those words in the
+letter.
+
+“Yes, madam,” was all poor Helena could answer.
+
+The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be
+delivered to the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her
+with the reason of her sudden absence. In this letter she
+informed her that she was so much grieved at having driven
+Bertram from his native country and his home, that to atone for
+her offense, she had undertaken a pilgrimage to the shrine of St.
+Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the countess to
+inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his house
+forever.
+
+Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became
+an officer in the Duke of Florence’s army, and after a successful
+war, in which he distinguished himself by many brave actions,
+Bertram received letters from his mother containing the
+acceptable tidings that Helena would no more disturb him; and he
+was preparing to return home, when Helena herself, clad in her
+pilgrim’s weeds, arrived at the city of Florence.
+
+Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on
+their way to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this
+city she heard that a hospitable widow dwelt there who used to
+receive into her house the female pilgrims that were going to
+visit the shrine of that saint, giving them lodging and kind
+entertainment. To this good lady, therefore, Helena went, and the
+widow gave her a courteous welcome and invited her to see
+whatever was curious in that famous city, and told her that if
+she would like to see the duke’s army she would take her where
+she might have a full view of it.
+
+“And you will see a countryman of yours,” said the widow. “His
+name is Count Rousillon, who has done worthy service in the
+duke’s wars.” Helena wanted no second invitation, when she found
+Bertram was to make part of the show. She accompanied her
+hostess; and a sad and mournful pleasure it was to her to look
+once more upon her dear husband’s face.
+
+“Is he not a handsome man?” said the widow.
+
+“I like him well,” replied Helena, with great truth.
+
+All the way they walked the talkative widow’s discourse was all
+of Bertram. She told Helena the story of Bertram’s marriage, and
+how he had deserted the poor lady his wife and entered into the
+duke’s army to avoid living with her. To this account of her own
+misfortunes Helena patiently listened, and when it was ended the
+history of Bertram was not yet done, for then the widow began
+another tale, every word of which sank deep into the mind of
+Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram’s love for her
+daughter.
+
+Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the
+king, it seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had
+been stationed with the army at Florence he had fallen in love
+with Diana, a fair young gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow
+who was Helena’s hostess; and every night, with music of all
+sorts, and songs composed in praise of Diana’s beauty, he would
+come under her window and solicit her love; and all his suit to
+her was that she would permit him to visit her by stealth after
+the family were retired to rest. But Diana would by no means be
+persuaded to grant this improper request, nor give any
+encouragement to his suit, knowing him to be a married man; for
+Diana had been brought up under the counsels of a prudent mother,
+who, though she was now in reduced circumstances, was well born
+and descended from the noble family of the Capulets.
+
+All this the good lady related to Helena, highly praising the
+virtuous principles of her discreet daughter, which she said were
+entirely owing to the excellent education and good advice she had
+given her; and she further said that Bertram had been
+particularly importunate with Diana to admit him to the visit he
+so much desired that night, because he was going to leave
+Florence early the next morning.
+
+Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram’s love for the
+widow’s daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena
+conceived a project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of
+her former one) to recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the
+widow that she was Helena, the deserted wife of Bertram, and
+requested that her kind hostess and her daughter would suffer
+this visit from Bertram to take place, and allow her to pass
+herself upon Bertram for Diana, telling them her chief motive for
+desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband was to get
+a ring from him, which, he had said, if ever she was in
+possession of he would acknowledge her as his wife.
+
+The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair,
+partly moved by pity for this unhappy, forsaken wife and partly
+won over to her interest by the promises of reward which Helena
+made them, giving them a purse of money in earnest of her future
+favor. In the course of that day Helena caused information to be
+sent to Bertram that she was dead, hoping that, when he thought
+himself free to make a second choice by the news of her death, he
+would offer marriage to her in her feigned character of Diana.
+And if she could obtain the ring and this promise, too, she
+doubted not she should make some future good come of it.
+
+In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into
+Diana’s chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The
+flattering compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena
+were precious sounds to her though she knew they were meant for
+Diana; and Bertram was so well pleased with her that he made her
+a solemn promise to be her husband, and to love her forever;
+which she hoped would be prophetic of a real affection, when he
+should know it was his own wife, the despised Helena, whose
+conversation had so delighted him.
+
+Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps
+he would not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every
+day, he had entirely over looked her beauty; a face we are
+accustomed to see constantly losing the effect which is caused by
+the first sight either of beauty or of plainness; and of her
+understanding it was impossible he should judge, because she felt
+such reverence, mixed with her love for him, that she was always
+silent in his presence. But now that her future fate, and the
+happy ending of all her love-projects, seemed to depend on her
+leaving a favorable impression on the mind of Bertram from this
+night’s interview, she exerted all her wit to please him; and the
+simple graces of her lively conversation and the endearing
+sweetness of her manners so charmed Bertram that be vowed she
+should be his wife. Helena begged the ring from off his finger as
+a token of his regard, and he gave it to her; and in return for
+this ring, which it was of such importance to her to possess, she
+gave him another ring, which was one the king had made her a
+present of. Before it was light in the morning she sent Bertram
+away; and he immediately set out on his journey toward his
+mother’s house.
+
+Helena prevailed on the widow and Diana to accompany her to
+Paris, their further assistance being necessary to the full
+accomplishment of the plan she had formed. When they arrived
+there, they found the king was gone upon a visit to the Countess
+of Rousillon, and Helena followed the king with all the speed she
+could make.
+
+The king was still in perfect health, and his gratitude to her
+who had been the means of his recovery was so lively in his mind
+that the moment he saw the Countess of Rousillon he began to talk
+of Helena, calling her a precious jewel that was lost by the
+folly of her son; but seeing the subject distressed the countess,
+who sincerely lamented the death of Helena, he said:
+
+“My good lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all.”
+
+But the good-natured old Lafeu, who was present, and could not
+bear that the memory of his favorite Helena should be so lightly
+passed over, said, “This I must say, the young lord did great
+offense to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady; but to himself
+he did the greatest wrong of all, for he has lost a wife whose
+beauty astonished all eyes, whose words took all ears captive,
+whose deep perfection made all hearts wish to serve her.”
+
+The king said: “Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
+Well--call him hither”; meaning Bertram, who now presented
+himself before the king, and on his expressing deep sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Helena the king, for his dead
+father’s and his admirable mother’s sake, pardoned him and
+restored him once more to his favor. But the gracious countenance
+of the king was soon changed toward him, for he perceived that
+Bertram wore the very ring upon his finger which he had given to
+Helena; and he well remembered that Helena had called all the
+saints in heaven to witness she would never part with that ring
+unless she sent it to the king himself upon some great disaster
+befalling her; and Bertram, on the king’s questioning him how he
+came by the ring, told an improbable story of a lady throwing it
+to him out of a window, and denied ever having seen Helena since
+the day of their marriage. The king, knowing Bertram’s dislike to
+his wife, feared he had destroyed her, and he ordered his guards
+to seize Bertram, saying:
+
+“I am wrapt in dismal thinking, for I fear the life of Helena was
+foully snatched.”
+
+At this moment Diana and her mother entered and presented a
+petition to the king, wherein they begged his Majesty to exert
+his royal power to compel Bertram to marry Diana, he having made
+her a solemn promise of marriage. Bertram, fearing the king’s
+anger, denied he had made any such promise; and then Diana
+produced the ring (which Helena had put into her hands) to
+confirm the truth of her words; and she said that she had given
+Bertram the ring he then wore, in exchange for that, at the time
+he vowed to marry her. On hearing this the king ordered the
+guards to seize her also; and, her account of the ring differing
+from Bertram’s, the king’s suspicions were confirmed, and he said
+if they did not confess how they came by this ring of Helena’s
+they should be both put to death. Diana requested her mother
+might be permitted to fetch the jeweler of whom she bought the
+ring, which, being granted, the widow went out, and presently
+returned, leading in Helena herself.
+
+The good countess, who in silent grief had beheld her son’s
+danger, and had even dreaded that the suspicion of his having
+destroyed his wife might possibly be true, finding her dear
+Helena, whom she loved with even a maternal affection, was still
+living, felt a delight she was hardly able to support; and the
+king, scarce believing for joy that it was Helena, said:
+
+“Is this indeed the wife of Bertram that I see?”
+
+Helena, feeling herself yet an unacknowledged wife, replied, “No,
+my good lord, it is but the shadow of a wife you see; the name
+and not the thing.”
+
+Bertram cried out: “Both, both! Oh pardon!”
+
+“O my lord,” said Helena, “when I personated this fair maid I
+found you wondrous kind; and look, here is your letter!” reading
+to him in a joyful tone those words which she had once repeated
+so sorrowfully, “WHEN FROM MY FINGER YOU CAN GET THIS RING--This
+is done; it was to me you gave the ring. Will you be mine, now
+you are doubly won?”
+
+Bertram replied, “If you can make it plain that you were the lady
+I talked with that night I will love you dearly, ever, ever
+dearly.”
+
+This was no difficult task, for the widow and Diana came with
+Helena to prove this fact; and the king was so well pleased with
+Diana for the friendly assistance she had rendered the dear lady
+he so truly valued for the service she had done him that he
+promised her also a noble husband, Helena’s history giving him a
+hint that it was a suitable reward for kings to bestow upon fair
+ladies when they perform notable services.
+
+Thus Helena at last found that her father’s legacy was indeed
+sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven; for she was now the
+beloved wife of her dear Bertram, the daughter-in-law  of her
+noble mistress, and herself the Countess of Rousillon.
+
+
+
+
+TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+Katharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich
+gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit
+and fiery temper, such a loud-tongued scold, that she was known
+in Padua by no other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed
+very unlikely, indeed impossible, that any gentleman would ever
+be found who would venture to marry this lady, and therefore
+Baptista was much blamed for deferring his consent to many
+excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister Bianca,
+putting off all Bianca’s suitors with this excuse, that when the
+eldest sister was fairly off his bands they should have free
+leave to address young Bianca.
+
+It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to
+Padua purposely to look out for a wife, who, nothing discouraged
+by these reports of Katharine’s temper, and hearing she was rich
+and handsome, resolved upon marrying this famous termagant, and
+taming her into a meek and manageable wife. And truly none was so
+fit to set about this herculean labor as Petruchio, whose spirit
+was as high as Katharine’s, and he was a witty and most
+happy-tempered humorist, and withal so wise, and of such a true
+judgment, that he well knew how to feign a passionate and furious
+deportment when his spirits were so calm that himself could have
+laughed merrily at his own angry feigning, for his natural temper
+was careless and easy; the boisterous airs he assumed when he
+became the husband of Katharine being but in sport, or, more
+properly speaking, affected by his excellent discernment, as the
+only means to overcome, in her own way, the passionate ways of
+the furious Katharine.
+
+A-courting, then, Petruchio went to Katharine the Shrew; and
+first of all he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave to woo
+his GENTLE DAUGHTER Katharine, as Petruchio called her, saying,
+archly, that, having heard of her bashful modesty and mild
+behavior, he had come from Verona to solicit her love. Her
+father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess
+Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent
+of what manner of gentleness she was composed, for her
+music-master rushed into the room to complain that the gentle
+Katharine, his pupil, had broken his head with her lute for
+presuming to find fault with her performance; which, when
+Petruchio heard, he said:
+
+“It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have
+some chat with her.” And hurrying the old gentleman for a
+positive answer, he said: “My business is in haste, Signor
+Baptista. I cannot come every day to woo. You knew my father. He
+is dead, and has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Then
+tell me, if I get your daughter’s love, what dowry you will give
+with her.”
+
+Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but,
+being glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would
+give her twenty thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his
+estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and
+Baptista went to apprise his shrewish daughter of her lover’s
+addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
+
+In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of
+courtship be should pursue; and he said: “I will woo her with
+some spirit when she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will
+tell her she sings as sweetly as a nightingale; and if she
+frowns, I will say she looks as clear as roses newly washed with
+dew. If she will not speak a word, I will praise the eloquence of
+her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will give her
+thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week.”
+
+Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed
+her with:
+
+“Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear.”
+
+Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully,
+“They call me Katharine who do speak to me.”
+
+“You lie,” replied the lover; “for you are called plain Kate, and
+bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the
+prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your
+mildness praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my
+wife.”
+
+A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms
+showing him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he
+still praised her sweet and courteous words, till at length,
+hearing her father coming, he said (intending to make as quick a
+wooing as possible):
+
+“Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your
+father has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is
+agreed on, and whether you will or no I will marry you.”
+
+And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had
+received him kindly and that she had promised to be married the
+next Sunday. This Katharine denied, saying she would rather see
+him hanged on Sunday, and reproached her father for wishing to
+wed her to such a madcap ruffian as Petruchio. Petruchio desired
+her father not to regard her angry words, for they had agreed she
+should seem reluctant before him, but that when they were alone
+he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
+
+“Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel
+against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the
+wedding guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and
+rich clothes, that my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate,
+for we will be married on Sunday.”
+
+On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they
+waited long before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for
+vexation to think that Petruchio had only been making a jest of
+her. At last, however, he appeared; but he brought none of the
+bridal finery be had promised Katharine, nor was he dressed
+himself like a bridegroom, but in strange, disordered attire, as
+if he meant to make a sport of the serious business he came
+about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode
+were in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
+
+Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said
+Katharine was to be married to him, and not to his clothes. And,
+finding it was in vain to argue with him, to the church they
+went, he still behaving in the same mad way, for when the priest
+asked Petruchio if Katharine should be his wife, he swore so loud
+that she should, that, all amazed, the priest let fall his book,
+and as he stooped to take it up this mad-brained bridegroom gave
+him such a cuff that down fell the priest and his book again. And
+all the while they were being married he stamped and swore so
+that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear.
+After the ceremony was over, while they were yet in the church,
+he called for wine, and drank a loud health to the company, and
+threw a sop which was at the bottom of the glass full in the
+sexton’s face, giving no other reason for this strange act than
+that the sexton’s beard grew thin and hungerly, and seemed to ask
+the sop as he was drinking. Never sure was there such a mad
+marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the better
+to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his shrewish wife.
+
+Baptista had provided a sumptuous marriage feast, but when they
+returned from church, Petruchio, taking hold of Katharine,
+declared his intention of carrying his wife home instantly, and
+no remonstrance of his father-in-law, or angry words of the
+enraged Katharine, could make him change his purpose. He claimed
+a husband’s right to dispose of his wife as he pleased, and away
+he hurried Katharine off; he seeming so daring and resolute that
+no one dared attempt to stop him.
+
+Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean and lank,
+which he had picked out for the purpose, and, himself and his
+servant no better mounted, they journeyed on through rough and
+miry ways, and ever when this horse of Katharine’s stumbled he
+would storm and swear at the poor jaded beast, who could scarce
+crawl under his burthen, as if he had been the most passionate
+man alive.
+
+At length, after a weary journey, during which Katharine had
+heard nothing but the wild ravings of Petruchio at the servant
+and the horses, they arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed her
+kindly to her home, but he resolved she should have neither rest
+nor food that night. The tables were spread, and supper soon
+served; but Petruchio, pretending to find fault with every dish,
+threw the meat about the floor, and ordered the servants to
+remove it away; and all this he did, as he said, in love for his
+Katharine, that she might not eat meat that was not well dressed.
+And when Katharine, weary and supperless, retired to rest, he
+found the same fault with the bed, throwing the pillows and
+bedclothes about the room, so that she was forced to sit down in
+a chair, where, if, she chanced to drop asleep, she was presently
+awakened by the loud voice of her husband storming at the
+servants for the ill-making of his wife’s bridal-bed.
+
+The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking
+kind words to Katharine, but, when she attempted to eat, finding
+fault with everything that was set before her, throwing the
+breakfast on the floor as he had done the supper; and Katharine,
+the haughty Katharine, was fain to beg the servants would bring
+her secretly a morsel of food; but they, being instructed by
+Petruchio, replied they dared not give her anything unknown to
+their master.
+
+“Ah,” said she, “did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come
+to my father’s door have food given them. But I, who never knew
+what it was to entreat for anything, am starved for want of food,
+giddy for want of sleep, with oaths kept waking, and with
+brawling fed; and that which vexes me more than all, he does it
+under the name of perfect love, pretending that if I sleep or
+eat, it were present death to me.”
+
+Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Petruchio.
+He, not meaning she should be quite starved, had brought her a
+small portion of meat, and he said to her:
+
+“How fares my sweet Kate? Here, love, you see how diligent I am.
+I have dressed your meat myself. I am sure this kindness merits
+thanks. What, not a word? Nay, then you love not the meat, and
+all the pains I have taken is to no purpose.” He then ordered the
+servant to take the dish away.
+
+Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katharine, made her
+say, though angered to the heart, “I pray you let it stand.”
+
+But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he
+replied, “The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall
+mine before you touch the meat.”
+
+On this Katharine brought out a reluctant “I thank you, sir.”
+
+And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying: “Much
+good may it do your gentle heart, Kate. Eat apace! And now, my
+honey love, we will return to your father’s house and revel it as
+bravely as the best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings,
+with ruffs and scarfs and fans and double change of finery.” And
+to make her believe be really intended to give her these gay
+things, he called in a tailor and a haberdasher, who brought some
+new clothes he had ordered for her, and then, giving her plate to
+the servant to take away, before she had half satisfied her
+hunger, he said:
+
+“What, have you dined?”
+
+The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, “Here is the cap your
+worship bespoke.” On which Petruchio began to storm afresh,
+saying the cap was molded in a porringer and that it was no
+bigger than a cockle or walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to
+take it away and make it bigger.
+
+Katharine said, “I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps
+as these.”
+
+“When you are gentle,” replied Petruchio, “you shall have one,
+too, and not till then.”
+
+The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen
+spirits, and she said: “Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to
+speak, and speak I will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters
+have endured to hear me say my mind; and if you cannot, you had
+better stop your ears.”
+
+Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily
+discovered a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a
+jangling argument with her; therefore his answer was:
+
+“Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not
+liking it.”
+
+“Love me, or love me not,” said Katharine, “I like the cap, and I
+will have this cap or none.”
+
+“You say you wish to see the gown,” said Petruchio, still
+affecting to misunderstand her.
+
+The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had
+made for her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have
+neither cap nor gown, found as much fault with that.
+
+“Oh, mercy, Heaven!” said he, “what stuff is here! What, do you
+call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down
+like an apple tart.”
+
+The tailor said, “You bid me make it according to the fashion of
+the times”; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned
+gown. This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these
+people might be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them
+for the seemingly strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he
+with fierce words and furious gestures drove the tailor and the
+haberdasher out of the room; and then, turning to Katharine, he
+said:
+
+“Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father’s even in these
+mean garments we now wear.”
+
+And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach
+Baptista’s house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven
+o’clock. Now it was not early morning, but the very middle of the
+day, when he spoke this; therefore Katharine ventured to say,
+though modestly, being almost overcome by the vehemence of his
+manner:
+
+“I dare assure you, sir, it is two o’clock, and will be
+suppertime before we get there.”
+
+But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that
+she should assent to everything he said before he carried her to
+her father; and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and
+could command the hours, he said it. should be what time he
+pleased to have it, before beset forward. “For,” he said,
+“whatever I say or do, you still are crossing it. I will not go
+to-day, and when I go, it shall be what o’clock I say it is.”
+
+Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found
+obedience, and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a
+perfect subjection that she dared not remember there was such a
+word as contradiction would Petruchio allow her to go to her
+father’s house; and even while they were upon their journey
+thither she was in danger of being turned back again, only
+because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed the
+moon shone brightly at noonday.
+
+“Now, by my mother’s son,” said be, “and that is myself, it shall
+be the moon, or stars, or what I list, before I journey to your
+father’s house.” He then made as if he were going back again. But
+Katharine, no longer Katharine the Shrew, but the obedient wife,
+said, “Let us go forward, I pray, now we have come so far, and it
+shall be the sun, or moon, or what you please; and if you please
+to call it a rush candle henceforth, I vow it shall be so for
+me.”
+
+This he was resolved to prove, therefore he said again, “I say it
+is the moon.”
+
+“I know it is the moon,” replied Katharine.
+
+“You lie. It is the blessed sun,” said Petruchio.
+
+“Then it is the blessed sun,” replied Katharine; “but sun it is
+not when you say it is not. What you will have it named, even so
+it is, and so it ever shall be for Katharine.”
+
+Now then he suffered her to proceed on her journey; but further
+to try if this yielding humor would last, he addressed an old
+gentleman they met on the road as if he had been a young woman,
+saying to him, “Good morrow, gentle mistress”; and asked
+Katharine if she had ever beheld a fairer gentlewoman, praising
+the red and white of the old man’s cheeks, and comparing his eyes
+to two bright stars; and again he addressed him, saying, “Fair,
+lovely maid, once more good day to you!” and said to his wife,
+“Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty’s sake.”
+
+The now completely vanquished Katharine quickly adopted her
+husband’s opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old
+gentleman, saying to him: “Young budding virgin, you are fair and
+fresh and sweet. Whither are you going, and where is your
+dwelling? Happy are the parents of so fair a child.”
+
+“Why, how now, Kate,” said Petruchio. “I hope you are not mad.
+This is a man, old and wrinkled, faded and withered, and not a
+maiden, as you say he is.”
+
+On this Katharine said, “Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so
+dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seemeth green. Now I
+perceive you are a reverend father. I hope you will pardon me for
+my sad mistake.”
+
+“Do, good old grandsire,” said Petruchio, “and tell us which way
+you are traveling. We shall be glad of your good company, if you
+are going our way.”
+
+The old gentleman replied: “Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
+your strange encounter has much amazed me. My name is Vincentio,
+and I am going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua.”
+
+Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of
+Lucentio, a young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista’s
+younger daughter, Bianca, and he made Vincentio very happy by
+telling him the rich marriage his son was about to make; and they
+all journeyed on pleasantly together till they came to Baptista’s
+house, where there was a large company assembled to celebrate the
+wedding of Bianca and Lucentio, Baptista having willingly
+consented to the marriage of Bianca when he had got Katharine off
+his hands.
+
+When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast,
+and there was present also another newly married pair.
+
+Lucentio, Bianca’s husband, and Hortensio, the other new-married
+man, could not forbear sly jests, which seemed to hint at the
+shrewish disposition of Petruchio’s wife, and these fond
+bridegrooms seemed highly pleased with the mild tempers of the
+ladies they had chosen, laughing at Petruchio for his less
+fortunate choice. Petruchio took little notice of their jokes
+till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then he perceived
+Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him, for when
+Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than
+theirs, the father of Katharine said, “Now, in good sadness, son
+Petruchio, I fear you have got the veriest shrew of all.”
+
+“Well,” said Petruchio, “I say no, and therefore, for assurance
+that I speak the truth, let us each one send for his wife, and he
+whose wife is most obedient to come at first when she is sent for
+shall win a wager which we will propose.”
+
+To this the other two husbands willingly consented, for they were
+confident that their gentle wives would prove more obedient than
+the headstrong Katharine, and they proposed a wager of twenty
+crowns. But Petruchio merrily said he would lay as much as that
+upon his hawk or hound, but twenty times as much upon his wife.
+Lucentio and Hortensio raised the wager to a hundred crowns, and
+Lucentio first sent his servant to desire Bianca would come to
+him. But the servant returned, and said:
+
+“Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come.”
+
+“How,” said Petruchio, “does she say she is busy and cannot come?
+Is that an answer for a wife?”
+
+Then they laughed at him, and said it would be well if Katharine
+did not send him a worse answer. And now it was Hortensio’s turn
+to send for his wife; and be said to his servant, “Go, and
+entreat my wife to come to me.”
+
+“Oh ho! entreat her!” said Petruchio.
+
+“Nay, then, she needs must come.”
+
+“I am afraid, sir,” said Hortensio, “your wife will not be
+entreated.” But presently this civil husband looked a little
+blank when the servant returned without his mistress; and he said
+to him:
+
+“How now? Where is my wife?”
+
+“Sir,” said the servant, “my mistress says you have some goodly
+jest in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come
+to her.”
+
+“Worse and worse!” said Petruchio. And then he sent his servant,
+saying, “Sirrah, go to your mistress and tell her I command her
+to come to me.”
+
+The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this
+summons when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed:
+
+“Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharine!”
+
+And she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio, “What is your will,
+sir, that you send for me?”
+
+“Where is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?” said he.
+
+Katharine replied, “They sit conferring by the parlor fire.”
+
+“Go, fetch them hither!” said Petruchio.
+
+Away went Katharine without reply to perform her husband’s
+command.
+
+“Here is a wonder,” said Lucentio, “if you talk of a wonder.”
+
+“And so it is,” said Hortensio. “I marvel what it bodes.”
+
+“Marry, peace it bodes,” said Petruchio, “and love, and quiet
+life, and right supremacy; and, to be short, everything that is
+sweet and happy.”
+
+Katharine’s father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his
+daughter, said: “Now, fair befall thee, son Petruchio! You have
+won the wager, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns to
+her dowry, as if she were another daughter, for she is changed as
+if she had never been.”
+
+“Nay,” said Petruchio, “I will win the wager better yet, and show
+more signs of her new-built virtue and obedience.” Katharine now
+entering with the two ladies, he continued: “See where she comes,
+and brings your froward wives as prisoners to her womanly
+persuasion. Katharine, that cap of yours does not become you; off
+with that bauble, and throw it underfoot.”
+
+Katharine instantly took off her cap and threw it down.
+
+“Lord!” said Hortensio’s wife, “may I never have a cause to sigh
+till I am brought to such a silly pass!”
+
+And Bianca, she, too, said, “Fie! What foolish duty call you
+this?”
+
+On this Bianca’s husband said to her, “I wish your duty were as
+foolish, too! The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, has cost me a
+hundred crowns since dinner-time.”
+
+“The more fool you,” said Bianca, “for laying on my duty.”
+
+“Katharine,” said Petruchio, “I charge you tell these headstrong
+women what duty they owe their lords and husbands.”
+
+And to the wonder of all present, the reformed shrewish lady
+spoke as eloquently in praise of the wifelike duty of obedience
+as she had practised it implicitly in a ready submission to
+Petruchio’s will. And Katharine once more became famous in Padua,
+not as heretofore as Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the
+most obedient and duteous wife in Padua.
+
+
+
+
+THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+The states of Syracuse and Ephesus being at variance, there was a
+cruel law made at Ephesus, ordaining that if any merchant of
+Syracuse was seen in the city of Ephesus he was to be put to
+death, unless he could pay a thousand marks for the ransom of his
+life.
+
+Aegeon, an old merchant of Syracuse, was discovered in the
+streets of Ephesus, and brought before the duke, either to pay
+this heavy fine or receive sentence of death.
+
+Aegeon had no money to pay the fine, and the duke, before he
+pronounced the sentence of death upon him, desired him to relate
+the history of his life, and to tell for what cause he had
+ventured to come to the city of Ephesus, which it was death for
+any Syracusan merchant to enter.
+
+Aegeon said that he did not fear to die, for sorrow had made him
+weary of his life, but that a heavier task could not have been
+imposed upon him than to relate the events of his unfortunate
+life. He then began his own history, in the following words:
+
+“I was born at Syracuse, and brought up to the profession of a
+merchant. I married a lady, with whom I lived very happily, but,
+being obliged to go to Epidamnum, I was detained there by my
+business six months, and then, finding I should be obliged to
+stay some time longer, I sent for my wife, who, as soon as she
+arrived, was brought to bed of two sons, and what was very
+strange, they were both so exactly alike that it was impossible
+to distinguish the one from the other. At the same time that my
+wife was brought to bed of these twin boys a poor woman in the
+inn where my wife lodged was brought to bed of two sons, and
+these twins were as much like each other as my two sons were. The
+parents of these children being exceeding poor, I bought the two
+boys and brought them up to attend upon my sons.
+
+“My sons were very fine children, and my wife was not a little
+proud of two such boys; and she daily wishing to return home, I
+unwillingly agreed, and in an evil hour we got on shipboard, for
+we had not sailed above a league from Epidamnum before a dreadful
+storm arose, which continued with such violence that the sailors,
+seeing no chance of saving the ship, crowded into the boat to
+save their own lives, leaving us alone in the ship, which we
+every moment expected would be destroyed by the fury of the
+storm.
+
+“The incessant weeping of my wife and the piteous complaints of
+the pretty babes, who, not knowing what to fear, wept for
+fashion, because they saw their mother weep, filled me with
+terror for them, though I did not for myself fear death; and all
+my thoughts were bent to contrive means for their safety. I tied
+my youngest son to the end of a small spire mast, such as
+seafaring men provide against storms; at the other end I bound
+the youngest of the twin slaves, and at the same time I directed
+my wife how to fasten the other children in like manner to
+another mast. She thus having the care of the eldest two
+children, and I of the younger two, we bound ourselves separately
+to these masts with the children; and but for this contrivance we
+had all been lost, for the ship split on a mighty rock and was
+dashed in pieces; and we, clinging to these slender masts, were
+supported above the water, where I, having the care of two
+children, was unable to assist my wife, who, with the other
+children, was soon separated from me; but while they were yet in
+my sight they were taken up by a boat of fishermen, from Corinth
+(as I supposed), and, seeing them in safety, I had no care but to
+struggle with the wild sea-waves, to preserve my dear son and the
+youngest slave. At length we, in our turn, were taken up by a
+ship, and the sailors, knowing me, gave us kind welcome and
+assistance and landed us in safety at Syracuse; but from that sad
+hour I have never known what became of my wife and eldest child.
+
+“My youngest son, and now my only care, when he was eighteen
+years of age, began to be inquisitive after his mother and his
+brother, and often importuned me that he might take his
+attendant, the young slave, who had also lost his brother, and
+go in search of them. At length I unwillingly gave consent, for,
+though I anxiously desired to hear tidings of my wife and eldest
+son, yet in sending my younger one to find them I hazarded the
+loss of him also. It is now seven years since my son left me;
+five years have I passed in traveling through the world in search
+of him. I have been in farthest Greece, and through the bounds of
+Asia, and, coasting homeward, I landed here in Ephesus, being
+unwilling to leave any place unsought that harbors men; but this
+day must end the story of my life, and happy should I think
+myself in my death if I were assured my wife and sons were
+living.”
+
+Here the hapless Aegeon ended the account of his misfortunes; and
+the duke, pitying this unfortunate father who had brought upon
+himself this great peril by his love for his lost son, said if it
+were not against the laws, which his oath and dignity did not
+permit him to alter, he would freely pardon him; yet, instead of
+dooming him to instant death, as the strict letter of the law
+required, he would give him that day to try if he could beg or
+borrow the money to pay the fine.
+
+This day of grace did seem no great favor to Aegeon, for, not
+knowing any man in Ephesus, there seemed to him but little chance
+that any stranger would lend or give him a thousand marks to pay
+the fine; and, helpless and hopeless of any relief, he retired
+from the presence of the duke in the custody of a jailer.
+
+Aegeon supposed he knew no person in Ephesus; but at the time he
+was in danger of losing his life through the careful search he
+was making after his youngest son that son, and his eldest son
+also, were in the city of Ephesus.
+
+Aegeon’s sons, besides being exactly alike in face and person,
+were both named alike, being both called Antipholus, and the two
+twin slaves were also both named Dromio. Aegeon’s youngest son,
+Antipholus of Syracuse, he whom the old man had come to Ephesus
+to seek, happened to arrive at Ephesus with his slave Dromio that
+very same day that Aegeon did; and he being also a merchant of
+Syracuse, he would have been in the same danger that his father
+was, but by good fortune he met a friend who told him the peril
+an old merchant of Syracuse was in, and advised him to pass for a
+merchant of Epidamnum. This Antipholus agreed to do, and he was
+sorry to hear one of his own countrymen was in this danger, but
+he little thought this old merchant was his own father.
+
+The eldest son of Aegeon (who must be called Antipholus of
+Ephesus, to distinguish him from his brother Antipholus of
+Syracuse) had lived at Ephesus twenty years, and, being a rich
+man, was well able to have paid the money for the ransom of his
+father’s life; but Antipholus knew nothing of his father, being
+so young when he was taken out of the sea with his mother by the
+fishermen that he only remembered he had been so preserved; but
+he had no recollection of either his father or his mother, the
+fishermen who took up this Antipholus and his mother and the
+young slave Dromio having carried the two children away from her
+(to the great grief of that unhappy lady), intending to sell
+them.
+
+Antipholus and Dromio were sold by them to Duke Menaphon, a
+famous warrior, who was uncle to the Duke of Ephesus, and he
+carried the boys to Ephesus when he went to visit the duke, his
+nephew.
+
+The Duke of Ephesus, taking a liking to young Antipholus, when he
+grew up made him an officer in his army, in which he
+distinguished himself by his great bravery in the wars, where he
+saved the life of his patron, the duke, who rewarded his merit by
+marrying him to Adriana, a rich lady of Ephesus, with whom he was
+living (his slave Dromio still attending him) at the time his
+father came there.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse, when he parted with his friend, who,
+advised him to say he came from Epidamnum, gave his slave Dromio
+some money to carry to the inn where he intended to dine, and in
+the mean time he said he would walk about and view the city and
+observe the manners of the people.
+
+Dromio was a pleasant fellow, and when Antipholus was dull and
+melancholy he used to divert himself with the odd humors and
+merry jests of his slave, so that the freedoms of speech he
+allowed in Dromio were greater than is usual between masters and
+their servants.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had sent Dromio away, he stood awhile
+thinking over his solitary wanderings in search of his mother and
+his brother, of whom in no place where he landed could he hear
+the least tidings; and he said sorrowfully to himself, “I am like
+a drop of water in the ocean. which, seeking to find its fellow
+drop, loses itself in the wide sea, So I, unhappily, to find a
+mother and a brother, do lose myself.”
+
+While he was thus meditating on his weary travels, which had
+hitherto been so useless, Dromio (as he thought) returned.
+Antipholus, wondering that he came back so soon, asked him where
+he had left the money. Now it was not his own Dromio, but the
+twin-brother that lived with Antipholus of Ephesus, that he spoke
+to. The two Dromios and the two Antipholuses were still as much
+alike as Aegeon had said they were in their infancy; therefore no
+wonder Antipholus thought it was his own slave returned, and
+asked him why he came back so soon.
+
+Dromio replied: “My mistress sent me to bid you come to dinner.
+The capon burns, and the pig falls from the spit, and the meat
+will be all cold if you do not come home.”
+
+“These jests are out of season,” said Antipholus. “Where did you
+leave the money?”
+
+Dromio still answering that his mistress had sent him to fetch
+Antipholus to dinner, “What mistress?” said Antipholus.
+
+“Why, your worship’s wife, sir!” replied Dromio.
+
+Antipholus having no wife, he was very angry with Dromio, and
+said: “Because I familiarly sometimes chat with you, you presume
+to jest with me in this free manner. I am not in a sportive humor
+now. Where is the money? We being strangers here, how dare you
+trust so great a charge from your own custody?”
+
+Dromio, hearing his master, as he thought him, talk of their
+being strangers, supposing Antipholus was jesting, replied,
+merrily: “I pray you, sir, jest as you sit at dinner. I had no
+charge but to fetch you home to dine with my mistress and her
+sister.”
+
+Now Antipholus lost all patience, and beat Dromio, who ran home
+and told his mistress that his master had refused to come to
+dinner and said that he had no wife.
+
+Adriana, the wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, was very angry when
+she heard that her husband said he had no wife; for she was of a
+jealous temper, and she said her husband meant that he loved
+another lady better than herself; and she began to fret, and say
+unkind words of jealousy and reproach of her husband; and her
+sister Luciana, who lived with her, tried in vain to persuade her
+out of her groundless suspicions.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse went to the inn, and found Dromio with the
+money in safety there, and, seeing his own Dromio, he was going
+again to chide him for his free jests, when Adriana came up to
+him, and, not doubting but it was her husband she saw, she began
+to reproach him for looking strange upon her (as well he might,
+never having seen this angry lady before); and then she told him
+how well he loved her before they were married, and that now he
+loved some other lady instead of her.
+
+“How comes it now, my husband,” said she, “oh, how comes it that
+I have lost your love?”
+
+“Plead you to me, fair dame?” said the astonished Antipholus.
+
+It was in vain he told her he was not her husband and that he had
+been in Ephesus but two hours. She insisted on his going home
+with her, and Antipholus at last, being unable to get away, went
+with her to his brother’s house, and dined with Adriana and her
+sister, the one calling him husband and the other brother, he,
+all amazed, thinking he must have been married to her in his
+sleep, or that he was sleeping now. And Dromio, who followed
+them, was no less surprised, for the cook-maid, who was his
+brother’s wife, also claimed him for her husband.
+
+While Antipholus of Syracuse was dining with his brother’s wife,
+his brother, the real husband, returned home to dinner with his
+slave Dromio; but the servants would not open the door, because
+their mistress had ordered them not to admit any company; and
+when they repeatedly knocked, and said they were Antipholus and
+Dromio, the maids laughed at them, and said that Antipholus was
+at dinner with their mistress, and Dromio was in the kitchen, and
+though they almost knocked the door down, they could not gain
+admittance, and at last Antipholus went away very angry, and
+strangely surprised at, hearing a gentleman was dining with his
+wife.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had finished his dinner, he was so
+perplexed at the lady’s still persisting in calling him husband,
+and at hearing that Dromio had also been claimed by the cookmaid,
+that he left the house as soon as he could find any pretense to
+get away; for though he was very much pleased with Luciana, the
+sister, yet the jealous-tempered Adriana he disliked very much,
+nor was Dromio at all better satisfied with his fair wife in the
+kitchen; therefore both master and man were glad to get away from
+their new wives as fast as they could.
+
+The moment Antipholus of Syracuse had left the house he was met
+by a goldsmith, who, mistaking him, as Adriana had done, for
+Antipholus of Ephesus, gave him a gold chain, calling him by his
+name; and when Antipholus would have refused the chain, saying it
+did not belong to him, the goldsmith replied he made it by his
+own orders, and went away, leaving the chain in the hands of
+Antipholus, who ordered his man Dromio to get his things on board
+a ship, not choosing to stay in a place any longer where he met
+with such strange adventures that he surely thought himself
+bewitched.
+
+The goldsmith who had given the chain to the wrong Antipholus was
+arrested immediately after for a sum of money he owed; and
+Antipholus, the married brother, to whom the goldsmith thought he
+had given the chain, happened to come to the place where the
+officer was arresting the goldsmith, who, when he saw Antipholus,
+asked him to pay for the gold chain he had just delivered to him,
+the price amounting to nearly the same sum as that for which he
+had been arrested. Antipholus denying the having received the
+chain, and the goldsmith persisting to declare that he had but a
+few minutes before given it to him, they disputed this matter a
+long time, both thinking they were right; for Antipholus knew the
+goldsmith never gave him the chain, and so like were the two
+brothers, the goldsmith was as certain he had delivered the chain
+into his hands, till at last the officer took the goldsmith away
+to prison for the debt he owed, and at the same time the
+goldsmith made the officer arrest Antipholus for the price of the
+chain; so that at the conclusion of their dispute Antipholus and
+the merchant were both taken away to prison together.
+
+As Antipholus was going to prison, he met Dromio of Syracuse, his
+brother’s slave, and, mistaking him for his own, he ordered him
+to go to Adriana his wife, and tell her to send the money for
+which he was arrested. Dromio, wondering that his master should
+send him back to the strange house where he dined, and from which
+he had just before been in such haste to depart, did not dare to
+reply, though he came to tell his master the ship was ready to
+sail, for he saw Antipholus was in no humor to be jested with.
+Therefore he went away, grumbling within himself that he must
+return to Adriana’s house, “Where,” said he, “Dowsabel claims me
+for a husband. But I must go, for servants must obey their
+masters’ commands.”
+
+Adriana gave him the money, and as Dromio was returning he met
+Antipholus of Syracuse, who was still in amaze at the surprising
+adventures he met with, for, his brother being well known in
+Ephesus, there was hardly a man he met in the streets but saluted
+him as an old acquaintance. Some offered him money which they
+said was owing to him, some invited him to come and see them, and
+some gave him thanks for kindnesses they said he had done them,
+all mistaking him for his brother. A tailor showed him some silks
+he had bought for him, and insisted upon taking measure of him
+for some clothes.
+
+Antipholus began to think he was among a nation of sorcerers and
+witches, and Dromio did not at all relieve his master from his
+bewildered thoughts by asking him how he got free from the
+officer who was carrying him to prison, and giving him the purse
+of gold which Adriana had sent to pay the debt with. This talk of
+Dromio’s of the arrest and of a prison, and of the money he had
+brought from Adriana, perfectly confounded Antipholus, and he
+said, “This fellow Dromio is certainly distracted, and we wander
+here in illusions,” and, quite terrified at his own confused
+thoughts, he cried out, “Some blessed power deliver us from this
+strange place!”
+
+And now another stranger came up to him, and she was a lady, and
+she, too, called him Antipholus, and told him he had dined with
+her that day, and asked him for a gold chain which she said he
+had promised to give her. Antipholus now lost all patience, and,
+calling her a sorceress, he denied that he had ever promised her
+a chain, or dined with her, or had even seen her face before that
+moment. The lady persisted in affirming he had dined with her and
+had promised her a chain, which Antipholus still denying, she
+further said that she had given him a valuable ring, and if he
+would not give her the gold chain, she insisted upon having her
+own ring again. On this Antipholus became quite frantic, and
+again calling her sorceress and witch, and denying all knowledge
+of her or her ring, ran away from her, leaving her astonished at
+his words and his wild looks, for nothing to her appeared more
+certain than that he had dined with her, and that she had given
+him a ring in consequence of his promising to make her a present
+of a gold chain. But this lady had fallen into the same mistake
+the others had done, for she had taken him for his brother; the
+married Antipholus had done all the things she taxed this
+Antipholus with.
+
+When the married Antipholus was denied entrance into his house
+(those within supposing him to be already there) be had gone away
+very angry, believing it to be one of his wife’s jealous freaks,
+to which she was very subject, and, remembering that she had
+often falsely accused him of visiting other ladies, he, to be
+revenged on her for shutting him out of his own house, determined
+to go and dine with this lady, and she receiving him with great
+civility, and his wife having so highly offended him, Antipholus
+promised to give her a gold chain which he had intended as a
+present for his wife; it was the same chain which the goldsmith
+by mistake had given to his brother. The lady liked so well the
+thoughts of having a fine gold chain that she gave the married
+Antipholus a ring; which when, as she supposed (taking his
+brother for him), he denied, and said he did not know her, and
+left her in such a wild passion, she began to think he was
+certainly out of his senses; and presently she resolved to go and
+tell Adriana that her husband was mad. And while she was telling
+it to Adriana he came, attended by the jailer (who allowed him to
+come home to get the money to pay the debt), for the purse of
+money which Adriana had sent by Dromio and he had delivered to
+the other Antipholus.
+
+Adriana believed the story the lady told her of her husband’s
+madness must be true when he reproached her for shutting him out
+of his own house; and remembering how he had protested all
+dinner-time that he was not her husband and had never been in
+Ephesus till that day, she had no doubt that he was mad; she
+therefore paid the jailer the money, and, having discharged him,
+she ordered her servants to bind her husband with ropes, and had
+him conveyed into a dark room, and sent for a doctor to come and
+cure him of his madness, Antipholus all the while hotly
+exclaiming against this false accusation, which the exact
+likeness he bore to his brother had brought upon him. But his
+rage only the more confirmed them in the belief that he was mad;
+and Dromio persisting in the same story, they bound him also and
+took him away along with his master.
+
+Soon after Adriana had put her husband into confinement a servant
+came to tell her that Antipholus and Dromio must have broken
+loose from their keepers, for that they were both walking at
+liberty in the next street. On hearing this Adriana ran out to
+fetch him home, taking some people with her to secure her husband
+again; and her sister went along with her. When they came to the
+gates of a convent in their neighborhood, there they saw
+Antipholus and Dromio, as they thought, being again deceived by
+the likeness of the twin brothers.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse was still beset with the perplexities this
+likeness had brought upon him. The chain which the goldsmith had
+given him was about his neck, and the goldsmith was reproaching
+him for denying that he had it and refusing to pay for it, and
+Antipholus was protesting that the goldsmith freely gave him the
+chain in the morning, and that from that hour he had never seen
+the goldsmith again.
+
+And now Adriana came up to him and claimed him as her lunatic
+husband who had escaped from his keepers, and the men she brought
+with her were going to lay violent hands on Antipholus and
+Dromio; but they ran into the convent, and Antipholus begged the
+abbess to give him shelter in her house.
+
+And now came out the lady abbess herself to inquire into the
+cause of this disturbance. She was a grave and venerable lady,
+and wise to judge of what she saw, and she would not too hastily
+give up the man who had sought protection in her house; so she
+strictly questioned the wife about the story she told of her
+husband’s madness, and she said:
+
+“What is the cause of this sudden distemper of your husband’s?
+Has he lost his wealth at sea? Or is it the death of some dear
+friend that has disturbed his mind?”
+
+Adriana replied that no such things as these had been the cause.
+
+“Perhaps,” said the abbess, “he has fixed his affections on some
+other lady than you, his wife, and that has driven him to this
+state.”
+
+Adriana said she had long thought the love of some other lady was
+the cause of his frequent absences from home.
+
+Now it was not his love for another, but the teasing jealousy of
+his wife’s temper, that often obliged Antipholus to leave his
+home; and the abbess (suspecting this from the vehemence of
+Adriana’s manner), to learn the truth, said:
+
+“You should have reprehended him for this.”
+
+“Why, so I did,” replied Adriana.
+
+“Aye,” said the abbess, “but perhaps not enough.”
+
+Adriana, willing to convince the abbess that she had said enough
+to Antipholus on this subject, replied: “It was the constant
+subject of our conversation; in bed I would not let him sleep for
+speaking of it. At table I would not let him eat for speaking of
+it. When I was alone with him I talked of nothing else; and in
+company I gave him frequent hints of it. Still all my talk was
+how vile and bad it was in him to love any lady better than me.”
+
+The lady abbess, having drawn this full confession from the
+jealous Adriana, now said: “And therefore comes it that your
+husband is mad. The venomous clamor of a jealous woman is a more
+deadly poison than a mad dog’s tooth. It seems his sleep was
+hindered by your railing; no wonder that his head is light; and
+his meat was sauced with your upbraidings; unquiet meals make ill
+digestions, and that has thrown him into this fever. You say his
+sports were disturbed by your brawls; being debarred from the
+enjoyment of society and recreation, what could ensue but dull
+melancholy and comfortless despair? The consequence is, then,
+that your jealous fits have made your husband mad.”
+
+Luciana would have excused her sister, saying she always
+reprehended her husband mildly; and she said to her sister, “Why
+do you hear these rebukes without answering them?”
+
+But the abbess had made her so plainly perceive her fault that
+she could only answer, “She has betrayed me to my own reproof.”
+
+Adriana, though ashamed of her own conduct, still insisted on
+having her husband delivered up to her; but the abbess would
+suffer no person to enter her house, nor would she deliver up
+this unhappy man to the care of the jealous wife, determining
+herself to use gentle means for his recovery, and she retired
+into her house again, and ordered her gates to be shut against
+them.
+
+During the course of this eventful day, in which so many errors
+had happened from the likeness the twin brothers bore to each
+other, old  Aegeon’s day of grace was passing away, it being now
+near sunset; and at sunset he was doomed to die if he could not
+pay the money.
+
+The place of his execution was near this convent, and here he
+arrived just as the abbess retired into the convent; the duke
+attending in person, that, if any offered to pay the money, he
+might be present to pardon him.
+
+Adriana stopped this melancholy procession, and cried out to the
+duke for justice, telling him that the abbess had refused to
+deliver up her lunatic husband to her care. While she was
+speaking, her real husband and his servant, Dromio, who had got
+loose, came before the duke to demand justice, complaining that
+his wife had confined him on a false charge of lunacy, and
+telling in what manner he had broken his bands and eluded the
+vigilance of his keepers. Adriana was strangely surprised to see
+her husband when she thought he had been within the convent.
+
+Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left
+him to go in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt
+secure that this dear son would readily pay the money demanded
+for his ransom. He therefore spoke to Antipholus in words of
+fatherly affection, with joyful hope that he should now be
+released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his son
+denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this
+Antipholus had never seen his father since they were separated in
+the storm in his infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in
+vain endeavoring to make his son acknowledge him, thinking surely
+that either his griefs and the anxieties he had suffered had so
+strangely altered him that his son did not know him or else that
+he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his misery--in the
+midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other Antipholus
+and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands
+and two Dromios standing before her.
+
+And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all,
+were clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and
+the two Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured
+aright of these seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story
+Aegeon had told him in the morning; and he said these men must be
+the two sons of Aegeon and their twin slaves.
+
+But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of
+Aegeon; and the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and
+under sentence of death, before the setting sun went down was
+brought to a happy conclusion, for the venerable lady abbess made
+herself known to be the long-lost wife of Aegeon and the fond
+mother of the two Antipholuses.
+
+When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away
+from her, she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous
+conduct she was at length made lady abbess of this convent and in
+discharging the rites of hospitality to an unhappy stranger she
+had unknowingly protected her own son.
+
+Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these
+long-separated parents and their children made them for a while
+forget that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they
+were become a little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke
+the ransom money for his father’s life; but the duke freely
+pardoned Aegeon, and would not take the money. And the duke went
+with the abbess and her newly found husband and children into the
+convent, to hear this happy family discourse at leisure of the
+blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two Dromios’
+humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their congratulations
+and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly complimented his
+brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his own
+person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.
+
+Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her
+mother-in-law that she never after cherished unjust suspicions
+nor was jealous of her husband.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of
+his brother’s wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and
+sons, lived at Ephesus many years. Nor did the unraveling of
+these perplexities so entirely remove every ground of mistake for
+the future but that sometimes, to remind them of adventures past,
+comical blunders would happen, and the one Antipholus, and the
+one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making altogether a
+pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.
+
+
+
+
+MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild
+and gentle temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the
+laws with impunity; and there was  in particular one law the
+existence of  which was almost forgotten, the duke never having
+put it in force during his  whole reign. This was a law dooming
+any man to the punishment of death who should live with a woman
+that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of the
+duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage
+became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke
+by the parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters
+had been seduced from their protection and were living as the
+companions of single men.
+
+The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his
+subjects; but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the
+indulgence he had hitherto shown, to the strict severity
+requisite to check this abuse, would make his people (who had
+hitherto loved him) consider him as a tyrant; therefore he
+determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom and depute
+another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against
+these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving
+offense by an unusual severity in his own person.
+
+Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for
+his strict and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person
+to undertake this important charge; and when the duke imparted
+his design to Lord Escalus, his chief counselor, Escalus said:
+
+“If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and
+honor, it is Lord Angelo.”
+
+And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a
+journey into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in
+his absence; but the duke’s absence was only a feigned one, for
+he privately returned to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the
+intent to watch unseen the conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.
+
+It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his
+new dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced
+a young lady from her parents; and for this offense, by command
+of the new lord deputy, Claudio was taken up and committed to
+prison, and by virtue of the old law which had been so long
+neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded. Great interest
+was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old Lord
+Escalus himself interceded for him.
+
+“Alas!” said he, “this gentleman whom I would save had an
+honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young
+man’s transgression.”
+
+But Angelo replied: “We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it
+harmless, makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must
+die.”
+
+Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and
+Claudio said to him: “I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service.
+Go to my sister Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the
+convent of Saint Clare; acquaint her with the danger of my state;
+implore her that she make friends with the strict deputy; bid her
+go herself to Angelo. I have great hopes in that; for she can
+discourse with prosperous art, and well she can persuade;
+besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such as
+moves men.”
+
+Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered
+upon her novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after
+passing through her probation as a novice, to take the veil, and
+she was inquiring of a nun concerning the rules of the convent
+when they heard the voice of Lucio, who, as he entered that
+religious house, said, “Peace be in this place!”
+
+“Who is it that speaks?” said Isabel.
+
+“It is a man’s voice,” replied the nun. “Gentle Isabel, go to
+him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you have
+taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence
+of the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face,
+or if you show your face you must not speak.”
+
+“And have you nuns no further privileges?” said Isabel.
+
+“Are not these large enough?” replied the nun.
+
+“Yes, truly,” said Isabel. “I speak not as desiring more, but
+rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the
+votarists of Saint Clare.”
+
+Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: “He calls
+again. I pray you answer him.”
+
+Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation,
+said: “Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?”
+
+Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: “Hail, virgin,
+if such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no
+less! Can you bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this
+place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?”
+
+“Why her unhappy brother?” said Isabel, “let me ask! for I am
+that Isabel and his sister.”
+
+“Fair and gentle lady,” he replied, “your brother kindly greets
+you by me; he is in prison.”
+
+“Woe is me! for what?” said Isabel.
+
+Lucio then told her Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young
+maiden. “Ah,” said she, “I fear it is my cousin Juliet.”
+
+Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other
+cousin in remembrance of their school-days’ friendship; and as
+Isabel knew that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been
+led by her affection for him into this transgression.
+
+“She it is,” replied Lucio.
+
+“Why, then, let my brother marry Juliet,” said Isabel.
+
+Lucio replied that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that
+the lord deputy had sentenced him to die for his offense.
+“Unless,” said he, “you have the grace by your fair prayer to
+soften Angelo, and that is my business between you and your poor
+brother.”
+
+“Alas!” said Isabel, “what poor ability is there in me to do him
+good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo.”
+
+“Our doubts are traitors,” said Lucio, “and make us lose the good
+we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to Lord Angelo!
+When maidens sue and kneel and weep men give like gods.”
+
+“I will see what I can do said Isabel. “I will but stay to give
+the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.
+Commend me to my brother. Soon at night I will send him word of
+my success.”
+
+Isabel hastened to the palace and threw herself on her knees
+before Angelo, saying, “I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, if it
+will please your Honor to hear me.”
+
+“Well, what is your suit?” said Angelo.
+
+She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her
+brother’s life.
+
+But Angelo said, “Maiden, there is no remedy; your brother is
+sentenced, and he must die.”
+
+“Oh, just but severe law!” said Isabel. “I had a brother then.
+Heaven keep your Honor!” and she was about to depart.
+
+But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said: “Give it not over so;
+return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang
+upon his gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you
+could not with a more tame tongue desire it.”
+
+Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy.
+
+“He is sentenced,” said Angelo. “It is too late.”
+
+“Too late!” said Isabel. “Why, no! I that do speak a word may
+call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
+great ones belongs, not the king’s crown, nor the deputed sword,
+the marshal’s truncheon, nor the judge’s robe, becomes them with
+one half so good a grace as mercy does.”
+
+“Pray you begone,” said Angelo.
+
+But still Isabel entreated; and she said: “If my brother had been
+as you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he,
+like you, would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had
+your power and you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I
+would tell you what it were to be a judge, and what a prisoner.”
+
+“Be content, fair maid!” said Angelo: “it is the law, not I,
+condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son,
+it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow.”
+
+“To-morrow?” said Isabel. “Oh, that is sudden! Spare him, spare
+him. He is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we kill
+the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than
+we minister to our gross selves? Good, good, my lord, bethink
+you, none have died for my brother’s offense, though many have
+committed it. So you would be the first that gives this sentence
+and he the first that suffers it. Go to your own bosom, my lord;
+knock there, and ask your heart what it does know that is like my
+brother’s fault; if it confess a natural guiltiness such as his
+is, let it not sound a thought against my brother’s life!”
+
+Her last words more moved Angelo than all she had before said,
+for the beauty of Isabel had raised a guilty passion in his heart
+and he began to form thoughts of dishonorable love, such as
+Claudio’s crime had been, and the conflict in his mind made him
+to turn away from Isabel; but she called him back, saying:
+“Gentle my lord, turn back. Hark, how I will bribe you. Good my
+lord, turn back!”
+
+“How! bribe me?” said Angelo, astonished that she should think of
+offering him a bribe.
+
+“Aye,” said Isabel, “with such gifts that Heaven itself shall
+share with you; not with golden treasures, or those glittering
+stones whose price is either rich or poor as fancy values them,
+but with true prayers that shall be up to Heaven before
+sunrise--prayers from preserved souls, from fasting maids whose
+minds are dedicated to nothing temporal.”
+
+“Well, come to me to-morrow,” said Angelo.
+
+And for this short respite of her brother’s life, and for this
+permission that she might be heard again, she left him with the
+joyful hope that she should at last prevail over his stern
+nature. And as she went away she said: “Heaven keep your Honor
+safe! Heaven save your Honor!” Which, when Angelo heard, he said
+within his heart, “Amen, I would be saved from thee and from thy
+virtues.” And then, affrighted at his own evil thoughts, he said:
+“What is this? What is this? Do I love her, that I desire to hear
+her speak again and feast upon her eyes? What is it I dream on?
+The cunning enemy of mankind, to catch a saint, with saints does
+bait the hook. Never could an immodest woman once stir my temper,
+but this virtuous woman subdues me quite. Even till now, when men
+were fond, I smiled and wondered at them.”
+
+In the guilty conflict in his mind Angelo suffered more that
+night than the prisoner he had so severely sentenced; for in the
+prison Claudio was visited by the good duke, who, in his friar’s
+habit, taught the young man the way to heaven, preaching to him
+the words of penitence and peace. But Angelo felt all the pangs
+of irresolute guilt, now wishing to seduce Isabel from the paths
+of innocence and honor, and now suffering remorse and horror for
+a crime as yet but intentional. But in the end his evil thoughts
+prevailed; and he who had so lately started at the offer of a
+bribe resolved to tempt this maiden with so high a bribe as she
+might not be able to resist, even with the precious gift of her
+dear brother’s life.
+
+When Isabel came in the morning Angelo desired she might be
+admitted alone to his presence; and being there, he said to her,
+if she would yield to him her virgin honor and transgress even as
+Juliet had done with Claudio, he would give her her brother’s
+life.
+
+“For,” said he, “I love you, Isabel.”
+
+“My brother,” said Isabel, “did so love Juliet, and yet you tell
+me he shall die for it.”
+
+“But,” said Angelo, “Claudio shall not die if you will consent to
+visit me by stealth at night, even as Juliet left her father’s
+house at night to come to Claudio.”
+
+Isabel, in amazement at his words, that he should tempt her to
+the same fault for which he passed sentence upon her brother,
+said, “I would do as much for my poor brother as for myself; that
+is, were I under sentence of death, the impression of keen whips
+I would wear as rubies, and go to my death as to a bed that
+longing I had been sick for, ere I would yield myself up to this
+shame.” And then she told him she hoped he only spoke these words
+to try her virtue.
+
+But he said, “Believe me, on my honor, my words express my
+purpose.”
+
+Isabel, angered to the heart to hear him use the word honor to
+express such dishonorable purposes, said: “Ha! little honor to be
+much believed; and most pernicious purpose. I will proclaim thee,
+Angelo, look for it! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or
+I will tell the world aloud what man thou art!”
+
+“Who will believe you, Isabel?” said Angelo; “my unsoiled name,
+the austereness of my life, my word vouched against yours, will
+outweigh your accusation. Redeem your brother by yielding to my
+will, or he shall die to-morrow. As for you, say what you can, my
+false will overweigh your true story. Answer me to-morrow.”
+
+“To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe
+me?” said Isabel, as she went toward the dreary prison where her
+brother was confined. When she arrived there her brother was in
+pious conversation with the duke, who in his friar’s habit had
+also visited Juliet and brought both these guilty lovers to a
+proper sense of their fault; and unhappy Juliet with tears and a
+true remorse confessed that she was more to blame than Claudio,
+in that she willingly consented to his dishonorable
+solicitations.
+
+As Isabel entered the room where Claudio was confined, she said,
+“Peace be here, grace, and good company!”
+
+“Who is there?” said the disguised duke. “Come in; the wish
+deserves a welcome.”
+
+“My business is a word or two with Claudio,” said Isabel.
+
+Then the duke left them together, and desired the provost who had
+the charge of the prisoners to place him where he might overhear
+their conversation.
+
+“Now, sister, what is the comfort?” said Claudio.
+
+Isabel told him he must prepare for death on the morrow.
+
+“Is there no remedy?” said Claudio.
+
+“Yes, brother,” replied Isabel, “there is; but such a one as if
+you consented to it would strip your honor from you and leave you
+naked.”
+
+“Let me know the point,” said Claudio.
+
+“Oh, I do fear you, Claudio!” replied his sister; “and I quake,
+lest you should wish to live, and more respect the trifling term
+of six or seven winters added to your life than your perpetual
+honor! Do you dare to die? The sense of death is most in
+apprehension, and the poor beetle that we tread upon feels a pang
+as great as when a giant dies.”
+
+“Why do you give me this shame?” said Claudio. “Think you I can
+fetch a resolution from flowery tenderness? If I must die, I will
+encounter darkness as a bride and hug it in my arms.”
+
+“There spoke my brother,” said Isabel; “there my father’s grave
+did utter forth a voice! Yes, you must die; yet would you think
+it, Claudio, this outward sainted deputy, if I would yield to him
+my virgin honor, would grant your life? Oh, were it but my life,
+I would lay it down for your deliverance as frankly as a pin!”
+
+“Thanks, dear Isabel,” said Claudio.
+
+“Be ready to die to-morrow,” said Isabel.
+
+“Death is a fearful thing,” said Claudio.
+
+“And shamed life a hateful,” replied his sister.
+
+But the thoughts of death now overcame the constancy of Claudio’s
+temper, and terrors, such as the guilty only at their deaths do
+know, assailing him, he cried out: “Sweet sister, let me live!
+The sin you do to save a brother’s life, nature dispenses with
+the deed so far that it becomes a virtue.”
+
+“O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!” said Isabel. “Would you
+preserve your life by your sister’s shame? Oh, fie, fie, fie! I
+thought, my brother, you had in you such a mind of honor that,
+had you twenty heads to render up on twenty blocks, you would
+have yielded them up all before your sister should stoop to such
+dishonor.”
+
+“Nay, hear me, Isabel!” said Claudio.
+
+But what he would have said in defense of his weakness in
+desiring to live by the dishonor of his virtuous sister was
+interrupted by the entrance of the duke; who said:
+
+“Claudio, I have overheard what has passed between you and your
+sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; what he
+said, has only been to make trial of her virtue. She, having the
+truth of honor in her, has given him that gracious denial which
+he is most ill glad to receive. There is no hope that he will
+pardon you; therefore pass your hours in prayer, and make ready
+for death.”
+
+Then Claudio repented of his weakness, and said: “Let me ask my
+sister’s pardon! I am so out of love with life that I will sue to
+be rid of it.” And Claudio retired, overwhelmed with shame and
+sorrow for his fault.
+
+The duke, being now alone with Isabel, commended her virtuous
+resolution, saying, “The hand that made you fair has made you
+good.”
+
+“Oh,” said Isabel, “how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo!
+If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will discover his
+government.” Isabel knew not that she was even now making the
+discovery she threatened.
+
+The duke replied: “That shall not be much amiss; yet as the
+matter now stands, Angelo will repel your accusation; therefore
+lend an attentive ear to my advisings. I believe that you may
+most righteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem
+your brother from the angry law, do no stain to your own most
+gracious person, and much please the absent duke, if peradventure
+he shall ever return to have notice of this business.”
+
+Isabel said she had a spirit to do anything he desired, provided
+it was nothing wrong.
+
+“Virtue is bold and never fearful,” said the duke: and then he
+asked her, if she had ever heard of Mariana, the sister of
+Frederick, the great soldier who was drowned at sea.
+
+“I have heard of the lady,” said Isabel, “and good words went
+with her name.”
+
+“This lady,” said the duke, “is the wife of Angelo; but her
+marriage dowry was on board the vessel in which her brother
+perished, and mark how heavily this befell to the poor
+gentlewoman! for, besides the loss of a most noble and renowned
+brother, who in his love toward her was ever most kind and
+natural, in the wreck of her fortune she lost the affections of
+her husband, the well-seeming Angelo, who, pretending to discover
+some dishonor in this honorable lady (though the true cause was
+the loss of her dowry), left her in her tears and dried not one
+of them with his comfort. His unjust unkindness, that in all
+reason should have quenched her love, has, like an impediment in
+the current, made it more unruly, and Mariana loves her cruel
+husband with the full continuance of her first affection.”
+
+The duke then more plainly unfolded his plan. It was that Isabel
+should go to Lord Angelo and seemingly consent to come to him as
+he desired at midnight; that by this means she would obtain the
+promised pardon; and that Mariana should go in her stead to the
+appointment, and pass herself upon Angelo in the dark for Isabel.
+
+“Nor, gentle daughter,” said the feigned friar, “fear you to this
+thing. Angelo is her husband, and to bring them thus together is
+no sin.
+
+Isabel, being pleased with this project, departed to do as he
+directed her; and he went to apprise Mariana of their intention.
+He had before this time visited this unhappy lady in his assumed
+character, giving her religious instruction and friendly
+consolation, at which times he had learned her sad story from her
+own lips; and now she, looking upon him as a holy man, readily
+consented to be directed by him in this undertaking.
+
+When Isabel returned from her interview with Angelo, to the house
+of Mariana, where the duke had appointed her to meet him, he
+said: “Well met, and in good time. What is the news from this
+good deputy?”
+
+Isabel related the manner in which she had settled the affair.
+“Angelo,” said she, “has a garden surrounded with a brick wall,
+on the western side of which is a vineyard, and to that vineyard
+is a gate.” And then she showed to the duke and Mariana two keys
+that Angelo had given her; and she said: “This bigger key opens
+the vineyard gate; this other a little door which leads from the
+vineyard to the garden. There I have made my promise at the dead
+of the night to call upon him, and have got from him his word of
+assurance for my brother’s life. I have taken a due and wary note
+of the place; and with whispering and most guilty diligence he
+showed me the way twice over.”
+
+“Are there no other tokens agreed upon between you, that Mariana
+must observe?” said the duke.
+
+“No, none,” said Isabel, “only to go when it is dark. I have told
+him my time can be but short; for I have made him think a servant
+comes along with me, and that this servant is persuaded I come
+about my brother.”
+
+The duke commended her discreet management, and she, turning to
+Mariana, said, “Little have you to say to Angelo, when you depart
+from him, but soft and low, REMEMBER NOW MY BROTHER!”
+
+Mariana was that night conducted to the appointed place by
+Isabel, who rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by this
+device preserved both her brother’s life and her own honor. But
+that her brother’s life was safe the duke was not well satisfied,
+and therefore at midnight he again repaired to the prison, and it
+was well for Claudio that he did so, else would Claudio have that
+night been beheaded; for soon after the duke entered the prison
+an order came from the cruel deputy commanding that Claudio
+should be beheaded and his head sent to him by five o’clock in
+the morning. But the duke persuaded the provost to put off the
+execution of Claudio, and to deceive Angelo by sending him the
+head of a man who died that morning in the prison. And to prevail
+upon the provost to agree to this, the duke, whom still the
+provost suspected not to be anything more or greater than he
+seemed, showed the provost a letter written with the duke’s hand,
+and sealed with his seal, which when the provost saw, he
+concluded this friar must have some secret order from the absent
+duke, and therefore he consented to spare Claudio; and he cut off
+the dead man’s head and carried it to Angelo.
+
+Then the duke in his own name wrote to Angelo a letter saying
+that certain accidents had put a stop to his journey and that he
+should be in Vienna by the following morning, requiring Angelo to
+meet him at the entrance of the city, there to deliver up his
+authority; and the duke also commanded it to be proclaimed that
+if any of his subjects craved redress for injustice they should
+exhibit their petitions in the street on his first entrance into
+the city.
+
+Early in the morning Isabel came to the prison, and the duke, who
+there awaited her coming, for secret reasons thought it good to
+tell her that Claudio was beheaded; therefore when Isabel
+inquired if Angelo had sent the pardon for her brother, he said:
+
+“Angelo has released Claudio from this world. His head is off and
+sent to the deputy.”
+
+The much-grieved sister cried out, “O unhappy Claudio, wretched
+Isabel, injurious world, most wicked Angelo!”
+
+The seeming friar bid her take comfort, and when she was become a
+little calm he acquainted her with the near prospect of  the
+duke’s return and told her in what manner she should proceed in
+preferring her complaint against Angelo; and he bade her not fear
+if the cause should seem to go against her for a while. Leaving
+Isabel sufficiently instructed, he next went to Mariana and gave
+her counsel in what manner she also should act.
+
+Then the duke laid aside his friar’s habit, and in his own royal
+robes, amid a joyful crowd of his faithful subjects assembled to
+greet his arrival, entered the city of Vienna, where he was met
+by Angelo, who delivered up his authority in the proper form. And
+there came Isabel, in the manner of a petitioner for redress, and
+said:
+
+“Justice, most royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who,
+for the seducing a young maid, was condemned to lose his head. I
+made my suit to lord Angelo for my brother’s pardon. It were
+needless to tell your Grace how I prayed and kneeled, how he
+repelled me, and how I replied; for this was of much length. The
+vile conclusion I now begin with grief and pain to utter. Angelo
+would not, but by my yielding to his dishonorable love, release
+my brother; and after much debate within myself my sisterly
+remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him. But the next
+morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his promise, sent a warrant
+for my poor brother’s head!”
+
+The duke affected to disbelieve her story; and Angelo said that
+grief for her brother’s death, who had suffered by the due course
+of the law, had disordered her senses.
+
+And now another suitor approached, which was Mariana; and Mariana
+said: “Noble prince, as there comes light from heaven and truth
+from breath, as there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am
+this man’s wife, and, my good lord, the words of Isabel are
+false, for the night she says she was with Angelo I passed that
+night with him in the garden-house. As this is true let me in
+safety rise, or else forever be fixed here a marble monument.”
+
+Then did Isabel appeal for the truth of what she had said to
+Friar Lodowick, that being the name the duke had assumed in his
+disguise. Isabel and Mariana had both obeyed his instructions in
+what they said, the duke intending that the innocence of Isabel
+should be plainly proved in that public manner before the whole
+city of Vienna; but Angelo little thought that it was from such a
+cause that they thus differed in their story, and he hoped from
+their contradictory evidence to be able to clear himself from the
+accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming the look of offended
+innocence:
+
+“I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is
+touched, and I perceive these poor, distracted women are but the
+instruments of some greater one who sets them on. Let me have
+way, my lord, to find this practice out.”
+
+“Aye, with all my heart,” said the duke, “and punish them to the
+height of your pleasure. You, Lord Escalus, sit with Lord Angelo,
+lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for
+that set them on, and when he comes do with your injuries as may
+seem best in any chastisement. I for a while will leave you, but
+stir not you, Lord Angelo, till you have well determined upon
+this slander.” The duke then went away, leaving Angelo well
+pleased to be deputed judge and umpire in his own cause. But the
+duke was absent only while he threw off his royal robes and put
+on his friar’s habit; and in that disguise again he presented
+himself before Angelo and Escalus. And the good old Escalus, who
+thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed
+friar, “Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord
+Angelo?”
+
+He replied: “Where is the duke? It is he who should hear me
+speak.”
+
+Escalus said: “The duke is in us, and we will hear you. Speak
+justly.”
+
+“Boldly, at least,” retorted the friar; and then he blamed the
+duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had
+accused, and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had
+observed while, as he said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna,
+that, Escalus threatened, him with the torture for speaking words
+against the state and for censuring the conduct of the duke, and
+ordered him to be taken away to prison. Then, to the amazement of
+all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the supposed
+friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke
+himself.
+
+The duke first addressed Isabel. He said to her: “Come hither,
+Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have
+not changed my heart. I am still devoted to your service.”
+
+“Oh, give me pardon,” said Isabel, “that I, your vassal, have
+employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty.”
+
+He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her for not
+having prevented the death of her brother for not yet would he
+tell her that Claudio was living; meaning first to make a further
+trial of her goodness.
+
+Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad
+deeds, and be said: “O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than
+my guiltiness, to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive
+your Grace, like power divine, has looked upon my actions. Then,
+good prince, no longer prolong my shame, but let my trial be my
+own confession. Immediate sentence and death is all the grace I
+beg.”
+
+The duke replied: “Angelo, thy faults are manifest. We do condemn
+thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with
+like haste away with him; and for his possessions, Mariana, we do
+instate and widow you withal, to buy you a better husband.”
+
+“O my dear lord,” said Mariana, “I crave no other, nor no better
+man!” And then on her knees, even as Isabel had begged the life
+of Claudio, did this kind wife of an ungrateful husband beg the
+life of Angelo; and she said: “Gentle my liege, O good my lord!
+Sweet Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees and all my life to
+come I will lend you all my life, to do you service!”
+
+The duke said: “Against all sense you importune her. Should
+Isabel kneel down to beg for mercy, her brother’s ghost would
+break his paved bed and take her hence in horror.”
+
+Still Mariana said: “Isabel, sweet Isabel, do but kneel by me,
+hold up your hand, say nothing! I will speak all. They say best
+men are molded out of faults, and for the most part become much
+the better for being a little bad. So may my husband. O Isabel!
+will you not lend a knee?”
+
+The duke then said, “He dies for Claudio.” But much pleased was
+the good duke when his own Isabel, from whom he expected all
+gracious and honorable acts, kneeled down before him, and said:
+“Most bounteous sir, look, if it please you, on this man
+condemned, as if my brother lived. I partly think a due sincerity
+governed his deeds till he did look on me. Since it is so, let
+him not die! My brother had but justice in that he did the thing
+for which he died.”
+
+The duke, as the best reply he could make to this noble
+petitioner for her enemy’s life, sending for Claudio from his
+prisonhouse, where he lay doubtful of his destiny, presented to
+her this lamented brother living; and he said to Isabel: “Give me
+your hand, Isabel. For your lovely sake I pardon Claudio. Say you
+will be mine, and he shall be my brother, too.”
+
+By this time Lord Angelo perceived he was safe; and the duke,
+observing his eye to brighten up a little, said:
+
+“Well, Angelo, look that you love your wife; her worth has
+obtained your pardon. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I
+have confessed her and know her virtue.”
+
+Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief authority, how
+hard his heart had been, and felt how sweet is mercy.
+
+The duke commanded Claudio to marry Juliet, and offered himself
+again to the acceptance of Isabel, whose virtuous and noble
+conduct had won her prince’s heart. Isabel, not having taken the
+veil, was free to marry; and the friendly offices, while hid
+under the disguise of a humble friar, which the noble duke had
+done for her, made her with grateful joy accept the honor he
+offered her; and when she became Duchess of Vienna the excellent
+example of the virtuous Isabel worked such a complete reformation
+among the young ladies of that city, that from that time none
+ever fell into the transgression of Juliet, the repentant wife of
+the reformed Claudio. And the mercy-loving duke long reigned with
+his beloved Isabel, the happiest of husbands and of princes.
+
+
+
+
+TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+
+
+Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of
+Messaline, were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder)
+from their birth they so much resembled each other that, but for
+the difference in their dress, they could not be known apart.
+They were both born in one hour, and in one hour they were both
+in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on the coast of
+Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship on
+board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and
+a very small number of the ship’s company escaped with their
+lives. The captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that
+were saved, got to land in a small boat, and with them they
+brought Viola safe on shore, where she, poor lady, instead of
+rejoicing at her own deliverance, began to lament her brother’s
+loss; but the captain comforted her with the assurance that he
+had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten himself to a
+strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of him
+for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves.
+Viola was much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and
+now considered bow she was to dispose of herself in a strange
+country, so far from home; and she asked the captain if he knew
+anything of Illyria.
+
+“Aye, very well, madam,” replied the captain, “for I was born not
+three hours’ travel from this place.”
+
+“Who governs here?” said Viola. The captain told her Illyria was
+governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.
+
+Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he
+was unmarried then.
+
+“And he is so now,” said the captain; “or was so very late for,
+but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
+talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of)
+that Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the
+daughter of a count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to
+the protection of her brother, who shortly after died also; and
+for the love of this dear brother, they say, she has abjured the
+sight and company of men.”
+
+Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother’s
+loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly
+mourned a brother’s death. She asked the captain if be could
+introduce her to Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this
+lady. But he replied this would be a hard thing to accomplish,
+because the Lady Olivia would admit no person into her house
+since her brother’s death, not even the duke himself. Then Viola
+formed another project in her mind, which was, in a man’s habit,
+to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange fancy in a
+young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
+forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of
+uncommon beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her
+excuse.
+
+She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he
+showed a friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her
+design, and he readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him
+money and directed him to furnish her with suitable apparel,
+ordering her clothes to be made of the same color and in the same
+fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and when she was
+dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her brother
+that some strange errors happened by means of their being
+mistaken for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian
+was also saved.
+
+Viola’s good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
+pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got
+her presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The
+duke was wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful
+deportment of this handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his
+pages, that being the office Viola wished to obtain; and she so
+well fulfilled the duties of her new station, and showed such a
+ready observance and faithful attachment to her lord, that she
+soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
+confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To
+Cesario he told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one
+who, rejecting his long services and despising his person,
+refused to admit him to her presence; and for the love of this
+lady who had so unkindly treated him the noble Orsino, forsaking
+the sports of the field and all manly exercises in which he
+used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth, listening to
+the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and passionate
+love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
+lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long
+conversing with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his
+grave courtiers thought Cesario was for their once noble master,
+the great Duke Orsino.
+
+It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes
+of handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her
+sorrow, for all that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she
+presently perceived she suffered for the love of him, and much it
+moved her wonder that Olivia could be so regardless of this her
+peerless lord and master, whom she thought no one could behold
+without the deepest admiration, and she ventured gently to hint
+to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a lady who was so
+blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:
+
+“If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
+perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in
+return) would you not tell her that you could not love, and must
+she not be content with this answer?”
+
+But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that
+it was possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no
+woman’s heart was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore
+it was unfair to compare the love of any lady for him to his love
+for Olivia. Now, though Viola had the utmost deference for the
+duke’s opinions, she could not help thinking this was not quite
+true, for she thought her heart had full as much love in it as
+Orsino’s had; and she said:
+
+“Ah, but I know, my lord.”
+
+“What do you know, Cesario?” said Orsino.
+
+“Too well I know,” replied Viola, “what love women may owe to
+men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a
+daughter loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love
+your lordship.”
+
+“And what is her history?” said Orsino.
+
+“A blank, my lord,” replied Viola. “She never told her love, but
+let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
+cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow
+melancholy she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at
+Grief.”
+
+The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this
+question Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had
+feigned the story, to speak words expressive of the secret love
+and silent grief she suffered for Orsino.
+
+While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had
+sent to Olivia, and he said, “So please you, my lord, I might not
+be admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you
+this answer: Until seven years hence the element itself shall not
+behold her face; but like a cloistress she will walk veiled,
+watering her chamber with her tears for the sad remembrance of
+her dead brother.”
+
+On hearing this the duke exclaimed, “Oh, she that has a heart of
+this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how
+will she love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!”
+
+And then he said to Viola: “You know, Cesario, I have told you
+all the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to
+Olivia’s house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell
+her there your fixed foot shall grow till you have audience.”
+
+“And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?” said Viola.
+
+“Oh, then,” replied Orsino, “unfold to her the passion of my
+love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well
+become you to act my woes, for she will attend more to you than
+to one of graver aspect.”
+
+Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this
+courtship, for she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she
+wished to marry; but, having undertaken the affair, she performed
+it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard that a youth was at her
+door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.
+
+“I told him,” said the servant, “that you were sick. He said he
+knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told
+him that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of
+that, too, and said that therefore he must speak with you. What
+is to be said to him, lady? for he seems fortified against all
+denial, and will speak with you, whether you will or no.”
+
+Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be,
+desired be might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her
+face, she said she would once more hear Orsino’s embassy, not
+doubting but that he came from the duke, by his importunity.
+Viola, entering, put on the most manly air she could assume, and,
+affecting the fine courtier language of great men’s pages, she
+said to the veiled lady:
+
+“Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell
+me if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to
+cast away my speech upon another; for besides that it is
+excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to learn it.”
+
+“Whence come you, sir?” said Olivia.
+
+“I can say little more than I have studied,” replied Viola, and
+that question is out of my part.”
+
+“Are you a comedian?” said Olivia.
+
+“No,” replied Viola; “and yet I am not that which I play,”
+ meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man. And
+again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.
+
+Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see
+her rival’s features than haste to deliver her master’s message,
+said, “Good madam, let me see your face.” With this bold request
+Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom
+the Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight
+conceived a passion for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.
+
+When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, “Have you any
+commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?”
+ And then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven
+long years, she drew aside her veil, saying: “But I will draw the
+curtain and show the picture. Is it not well done?”
+
+Viola replied: “It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
+your cheeks is by Nature’s own cunning hand laid on. You are the
+most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and
+leave the world no copy.”
+
+“Oh, sir,” replied Olivia, “I will not be so cruel. The world may
+have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
+red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin;
+and so forth. Were you sent here to praise me?”
+
+Viola replied, “I see what you are: you are too proud, but you
+are fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but
+be recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for
+Orsino loves you with adoration and with tears, with groans that
+thunder love, and sighs of fire.”
+
+“Your lord,” said Olivia, “knows well my mind. I cannot love him;
+yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
+high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him
+learned, courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might
+have taken his answer long ago.”
+
+“If I did love you as my master does,” said Viola, “I would make
+me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I would
+write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
+the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would
+make Echo, the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh,
+you should not rest between the elements of earth and air, but
+you should pity me.”
+
+“You might do much,” said Olivia. “What is your parentage?’”
+
+Viola replied: “Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
+gentleman.”
+
+Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: “Go to your
+master and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more,
+‘unless perchance you come again to tell me how he takes it.”
+
+And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair
+Cruelty. When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY
+FORTUNES, YET MY STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said
+aloud, “I will be sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs,
+action, and spirit plainly show he is a gentleman.” And then she
+wished Cesario was the duke; and, perceiving the fast hold he had
+taken on her affections, she blamed herself for her sudden love;
+but the gentle blame which people lay upon their own faults has
+no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so far forgot
+the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
+page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament
+of a lady’s character, that she resolved to court the love of
+young Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring,
+under the pretense that he had left it with her as a present from
+Orsino. She hoped by thus artfully making Cesario a present of
+the ring she should give him some intimation of her design; and
+truly it did make Viola suspect; for, knowing that Orsino had
+sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that Olivia’s looks
+and manner were expressive of admiration, and she presently
+guessed her master’s mistress had fallen in love with her.
+
+“Alas!” said she, “the poor lady might as well love a dream.
+Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
+fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino.”
+
+Viola returned to Orsino’s palace, and related to her lord the
+ill success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia
+that the duke should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke
+persisted in hoping that the gentle Cesario would in time be able
+to persuade her to show some pity, and therefore he bade him he
+should go to her again the next day. In the mean time, to pass
+away the tedious interval, he commanded a song which he loved to
+be sung; and he said:
+
+“My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
+did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and
+plain. The spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun,
+and the young maids that weave their thread with bone, chant this
+song. It is silly, yet I love it, for it tells of the innocence
+of love in the old times.”
+
+   SONG
+
+  Come away, come away, Death,
+    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+  Fly away, fly away, breath,
+    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
+My part of death no one so true did share it.
+  Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
+    On my black coffin let there be strewn:
+  Not a friend, not a friend greet
+    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
+A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where
+Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
+
+Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in
+such true simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and
+she bore testimony in her countenance of feeling what the song
+expressed. Her sad looks were observed by Orsino, who said to
+her:
+
+“My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
+looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?”
+
+“A little, with your leave,” replied Viola.
+
+“And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?” said Orsino.
+
+“Of your age and of your complexion, my lord,” said Viola; which
+made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
+much older than himself and of a man’s dark complexion; but Viola
+secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.
+
+When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no
+difficulty in gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when
+their ladies delight to converse with handsome young messengers;
+and the instant Viola arrived the gates were thrown wide open,
+and the duke’s page was shown into Olivia’s apartment with great
+respect. And when Viola told Olivia that she was come once more
+to plead in her lord’s behalf, this lady said:
+
+“I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
+undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music
+from the spheres.”
+
+This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself
+still more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she
+saw displeasure with perplexity expressed in Viola’s face, she
+said: “Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt
+and anger of his lip! Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by
+maidhood, honor, and by truth, I love you so that, in spite of
+your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to conceal my passion.”
+
+But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence,
+threatening never more to come to plead Orsino’s love; and all
+the reply she made to Olivia’s fond solicitation was, a
+declaration of a resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.
+
+No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her
+valor. A gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned
+how that lady had favored the duke’s messenger, challenged him to
+fight a duel. What should poor Viola do, who, though she carried
+a man-like outside, had a true woman’s heart and feared to look
+on her own sword?
+
+When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his
+sword drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a
+woman; but she was relieved at once from her terror, and the
+shame of such a discovery, by a stranger that was passing by, who
+made up to them, and as if he had been long known to her and were
+her dearest friend said to her opponent:
+
+“If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault
+on me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you.”
+
+Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to
+inquire the reason of his kind interference, her new friend met
+with an enemy where his bravery was of no use to him; for the
+officers of justice coming up in that instant, apprehended the
+stranger in the duke’s name, to answer for an offense he had
+committed some years before; and he said to Viola:
+
+“This comes with seeking you.” And then he asked her for a purse,
+saying: “Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
+grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what
+befalls myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort.”
+
+His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him
+not, nor had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness
+he had just shown her she offered him a small sum of money, being
+nearly the whole she possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe
+things, charging her with ingratitude and unkindness. He said:
+
+“This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death,
+and for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into
+this danger.”
+
+But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of
+their prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, “What is that
+to us?” And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name
+of Sebastian, reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning
+his friend, as long as he was within hearing. When Viola heard
+herself called Sebastian, though the stranger was taken away too
+hastily for her to ask an explanation, she conjectured that this
+seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken for her
+brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
+whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was.
+The stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had
+taken Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with
+fatigue, he was floating on the mast to which he had fastened
+himself in the storm. Antonio conceived such a friendship for
+Sebastian that he resolved to accompany him whithersoever he
+went; and when the youth expressed a curiosity to visit Orsino’s
+court, Antonio, rather than part from him, came to Illyria,
+though he knew, if his person should be known there, his life
+would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
+dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino’s nephew. This was the
+offense for which he was now made a prisoner.
+
+Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before
+Antonio met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring
+him to use it freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase,
+telling him he would wait at the inn while Sebastian went to view
+the town; but, Sebastian not returning at the time appointed,
+Antonio had ventured out to look for him, and, priest made Orsino
+believe that his page had robbed him of the treasure he prized
+above his life. But thinking that it was past recall, he was
+bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
+DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to
+come in his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle
+appeared! for another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as
+his wife. This new Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of
+Olivia; and when their wonder had a little ceased at seeing two
+persons with the same face, the same voice, and the same habit,
+the brother and sister began to question each other; for Viola
+could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living, and
+Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed
+drowned being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola
+presently acknowledged that she was indeed Viola, and his sister,
+under that disguise.
+
+When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness
+between this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at
+the Lady Olivia for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling
+in love with a woman; and Olivia showed no dislike to her
+exchange, when she found she had wedded the brother instead of
+the sister.
+
+The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of
+Olivia, and with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to
+vanish away, and all his thoughts were fixed on the event of his
+favorite, young Cesario, being changed into a fair lady. He
+viewed Viola with great attention, and he remembered how very
+handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he concluded she
+would look very beautiful in a woman’s attire; and then he
+remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the
+time seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but
+now he guessed that something more was meant, for many of her
+pretty sayings, which were like riddles to him, came now into his
+mind, and he no sooner remembered all these things than he
+resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to her (he still
+could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):
+
+“Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
+love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have
+done for me so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and
+since you have called me master so long, you shall now be your
+master’s mistress, and Orsino’s true duchess.”
+
+Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she
+had so ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her
+house and offered the assistance of the good priest who had
+married her to Sebastian in the morning to perform the same
+ceremony in the remaining part of the day for Orsino and Viola.
+Thus the twin brother and sister were both wedded on the same
+day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them being the
+means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
+was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the
+husband of the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.
+
+
+
+
+TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+Timon, a lord of Athens, in the enjoyment of a princely fortune,
+affected a humor of liberality which knew no limits. His almost
+infinite wealth could not flow in so fast but he poured it out
+faster upon all sorts and degrees of people. Not the poor only
+tasted of his bounty, but great lords did not disdain to rank
+themselves among his dependents and followers. His table was
+resorted to by all the luxurious feasters, and his house was open
+to all comers and goers at Athens. His large wealth combined with
+his free and prodigal nature to subdue all hearts to his love;
+men of all minds and dispositions tendered their services to Lord
+Timon, from the glass-faced flatterer whose face reflects as in a
+mirror the present humor of his patron, to the rough and
+unbending cynic who, affecting a contempt of men’s persons and an
+indifference to worldly things, yet could not stand out against
+the gracious manners and munificent soul of Lord Timon, but would
+come (against his nature) to partake of his royal entertainments
+and return most rich in his own estimation if he had received a
+nod or a salutation from Timon.
+
+If a poet had composed a work which wanted a recommendatory
+introduction to the world, he had no more to do but to dedicate
+it to Lord Timon, and the poem was sure of sale, besides a
+present purse from the patron, and daily access to his house and
+table. If a painter had a picture to dispose of he had only to
+take it to Lord Timon and pretend to consult his taste as to the
+merits of it; nothing more was wanting to persuade the liberal-
+hearted lord to buy it. If a jeweler had a stone of price, or a
+mercer rich, costly stuffs, which for their costliness lay upon
+his hands, Lord Timon’s house was a ready mart always open, where
+they might get off their wares or their jewelry at any price, and
+the good-natured lord would thank them into the bargain, as if
+they had done him a piece of courtesy in letting him have the
+refusal of such precious commodities. So that by this means his
+house was thronged with superfluous purchases, of no use but to
+swell uneasy and ostentatious pomp; and his person was still more
+inconveniently beset with a crowd of these idle visitors, lying
+poets, painters, sharking tradesmen, lords, ladies, needy
+courtiers, and expectants, who continually filled his lobbies,
+raining their fulsome flatteries in whispers in his ears,
+sacrificing to him with adulation as to a God, making sacred the
+very stirrup by which he mounted his horse, and seeming as though
+they drank the free air but through his permission and bounty.
+
+Some of these daily dependents were young men of birth who (their
+means not answering to their extravagance) had been put in prison
+by creditors and redeemed thence by Lord Timon; these young
+prodigals thenceforward fastened upon his lordship, as if by
+common sympathy he were necessarily endeared to all such
+spendthrifts and loose livers, who, not being able to follow him
+in his wealth, found it easier to copy him in prodigality and
+copious spending of what was their own. One of these flesh-flies
+was Ventidius, for whose debts, unjustly contracted, Timon but
+lately had paid down the sum of five talents.
+
+But among this confluence, this great flood of visitors, none
+were more conspicuous than the makers of presents and givers of
+gifts. It was fortunate for these men if Timon took a fancy to a
+dog or a horse, or any piece of cheap furniture which was theirs.
+The thing so praised, whatever it was, was sure to be sent the
+next morning with the compliments of the giver for Lord Timon’s
+acceptance, and apologies for the unworthiness of the gift; and
+this dog or horse, or whatever it might be, did not fail to
+produce from Timon’s bounty, who would not be outdone in gifts,
+perhaps twenty dogs or horses, certainly presents of far richer
+worth, as these pretended donors knew well enough, and that their
+false presents were but the putting out of so much money at large
+and speedy interest. In this way Lord Lucius had lately sent to
+Timon a present of four milk-white horses, trapped in silver,
+which this cunning lord had observed Timon upon some occasion to
+commend; and another lord, Lucullus, had bestowed upon him in the
+same pretended way of free gift a brace of greyhounds whose make
+and fleetness Timon had been heard to admire; these presents the
+easy-hearted lord accepted without suspicion of the dishonest
+views of the presenters; and the givers of course were rewarded
+with some rich return, a diamond or some jewel of twenty times
+the value of their false and mercenary donation.
+
+Sometimes these creatures would go to work in a more direct way,
+and with gross and palpable artifice, which yet the credulous
+Timon was too blind to see, would affect to admire and praise
+something that Timon possessed, a bargain that he had bought, or
+some late purchase, which was sure to draw from this yielding and
+soft-hearted lord a gift of the thing commended, for no service
+in the world done for it but the easy expense of a little cheap
+and obvious flattery. In this way Timon but the other day had
+given to one of these mean lords the bay courser which he himself
+rode upon, because his lordship had been pleased to say that it
+was a handsome beast and went well; and Timon knew that no man
+ever justly praised what he did not wish to possess. For Lord
+Timon weighed his friends’ affection with his own, and so fond
+was he of bestowing, that be could have dealt kingdoms to these
+supposed friends and never have been weary.
+
+Not that Timon’s wealth all went to enrich these wicked
+flatterers; he could do noble and praiseworthy actions; and when
+a servant of his once loved the daughter of a rich Athenian, but
+could not hope to obtain her by reason that in wealth and rank
+the maid was so far above him, Lord Timon freely bestowed upon
+his servant three Athenian talents, to make his fortune equal
+with the dowry which the father of the young maid demanded of him
+who should be her husband. But for the most part, knaves and
+parasites had the command of his fortune, false friends whom he
+did not know to be such, but, because they flocked around his
+person, he thought they must needs love him; and because they
+smiled and flattered him, he thought surely that his conduct was
+approved by all the wise and good. And when be was feasting in
+the midst of all these flatterers and mock friends, when they
+were eating him up and draining his fortunes dry with large
+draughts of richest wines drunk to his health and prosperity, be
+could not perceive the difference of a friend from a flatterer,
+but to his deluded eyes (made proud with the sight) it seemed a
+precious comfort to have so many like brothers commanding one
+another’s fortunes (though it was his own fortune which paid all
+the costs), and with joy they would run over at the spectacle of
+such, as it appeared to him, truly festive and fraternal meeting.
+
+But while he thus outwent the very heart of kindness, and poured
+out his bounty, as if Plutus, the god of gold, had been but his
+steward; while thus he proceeded without care or stop, so
+senseless of expense that he would neither inquire how he could
+maintain it nor cease his wild flow of riot--his riches, which
+were not infinite, must needs melt away before a prodigality
+which knew no limits. But who should tell him so? His flatterers?
+They had an interest in shutting his eyes. In vain did his honest
+steward Flavius try to represent to him his condition, laying his
+accounts before him, begging of him, praying of him, with an
+importunity that on any other occasion would have been unmannerly
+in a servant, beseeching him with tears to look into the state of
+his affairs. Timon would still put him off, and turn the
+discourse to something else; for nothing is so deaf to
+remonstrance as riches turned to poverty, nothing is so unwilling
+to believe its situation, nothing so incredulous to its own true
+state, and hard to give credit to a reverse. Often had this good
+steward, this honest creature, when all the rooms of Timon’s
+great house had been choked up with riotous feeders at his
+master’s cost, when the floors have wept with drunken spilling of
+wine, and every apartment has blazed with lights and resounded
+with music and feasting, often had he retired by himself to some
+solitary spot, and wept faster than the wine ran from the
+wasteful casks within, to see the mad bounty of his lord, and to
+think, when the means were gone which brought him praises from
+all sorts of people, how quickly the breath would be gone of
+which the praise was made; praises won in feasting would be lost
+in fasting, and at one cloud of winter-showers these flies would
+disappear.
+
+But now the time was come that Timon could shut his ears no
+longer to the representations of this faithful steward. Money
+must be had; and when he ordered Flavius to sell some of his land
+for that purpose, Flavius informed him, what he had in vain
+endeavored at several times before to make him listen to, that
+most of his land was already sold or forfeited, and that all he
+possessed at present was not enough to pay the one-half of what
+he owed. Struck with wonder at this presentation, Timon hastily
+replied:
+
+“My lands extend from Athens to Lacedoemon.”
+
+“O my good lord,” said Flavius, “the world is but a world, and
+has bounds. Were it all yours to give in a breath, how quickly
+were it gone!”
+
+Timon consoled himself that no villainous bounty had yet come
+from him, that if he had given his wealth away unwisely, it had
+not been bestowed to feed his vices, but to cherish his friends;
+and he bade the kind-hearted steward (who was weeping) to take
+comfort in the assurance that his master could never lack means
+while he had so many noble friends; and this infatuated lord
+persuaded himself that he had nothing to do but to send and
+borrow, to use every man’s fortune (that had ever tasted his
+bounty) in this extremity, as freely as his own. Then with a
+cheerful look, as if confident of the trial, he severally
+despatched messengers to Lord Lucius, to Lords Lucullus and
+Sempronius, men upon whom he had lavished his gifts in past times
+without measure or moderation; and to Ventidius, whom he had
+lately released out of prison by paying his debts, and who, by
+the death of his father, was now come into the possession of an
+ample fortune and well enabled to requite Timon’s courtesy; to
+request of Ventidius the return of those five talents which he
+had paid for him, and of each of those noble lords the loan
+of fifty talents; nothing doubting that their gratitude would
+supply his wants (if he needed it) to the amount of five hundred
+times fifty talents.
+
+Lucullus was the first applied to. This mean lord had been
+dreaming overnight of a silver bason and cup, and when Timon’s
+servant was announced his sordid mind suggested to him that this
+was surely a making out of his dream, and that Timon had sent him
+such a present. But when he understood the truth of the matter,
+and that Timon wanted money, the quality of his faint and
+watery friendship showed itself, for with many protestations he
+vowed to the servant that he had long foreseen the ruin of his
+master’s affairs, and many a time had he come to dinner to tell
+him of it, and had come again to supper to try to persuade him to
+spend less, but he would take no counsel nor warning by his
+coming. And true it was that he had been a constant attender (as
+he said) at Timon’s feasts, as he had in greater things tasted
+his bounty; but that he ever came with that intent, or gave good
+counsel or reproof to Timon, was a base, unworthy lie, which he
+suitably followed up with meanly offering the servant a bribe to
+go home to his master and tell him that be had not found Lucullus
+at home.
+
+As little success had the messenger who was sent to Lord Lucius.
+This lying lord, who was full of Timon’s meat and enriched almost
+to bursting with Timon’s costly presents, when he found the wind
+changed, and the fountain of so much bounty suddenly stopped, at
+first could hardly believe it; but on its being confirmed he
+affected great regret that he should not have it in his power to
+serve Lord Timon, for, unfortunately (which was a base
+falsehood), he had made a great purchase the day before, which
+had quite disfurnished him of the means at present, the more
+beast he, he called himself, to put it out of his power to serve
+so good a friend; and he counted it one of his greatest
+afflictions that his ability should fail him to pleasure such an
+honorable gentleman.
+
+Who can call any man friend that dips in the same dish with him?
+Just of this metal is every flatterer. In the recollection of
+everybody Timon had been a father to this Lucius, had kept up his
+credit with his purse; Timon’s money had gone to pay the wages of
+his servants, to pay the hire of the laborers who had sweat to
+build the fine houses which Lucius’s pride had made necessary to
+him. Yet---oh, the monster which man makes himself when he proves
+ungrateful!--this Lucius now denied to Timon a sum which, in
+respect of what Timon had bestowed on him, was less than
+charitable men afford to beggars.
+
+Sempronius, and every one of these mercenary lords to whom Timon
+applied in their turn, returned the same evasive answer or direct
+denial; even Ventidius, the redeemed and now rich Ventidius,
+refused to assist him with the loan of those five talents which
+Timon had not lent but generously given him in his distress.
+
+Now was Timon as much avoided in his poverty as he had been
+courted and resorted to in his riches. Now the same tongues which
+had been loudest in his praises, extolling him as bountiful,
+liberal, and open-handed, were not ashamed to censure that very
+bounty as folly, that liberality as profuseness, though it had
+shown itself folly in nothing so truly as in the selection of
+such unworthy creatures as themselves for its objects. Now was
+Timon’s princely mansion forsaken and become a shunned and hated
+place, a place for men to pass by, not a place, as formerly,
+where every passenger must stop and taste of his wine and good
+cheer; now, instead of being thronged with feasting and
+tumultuous guests, it was beset with impatient and clamorous
+creditors, usurers, extortioners, fierce and intolerable in their
+demands, pleading bonds, interest, mortgages; iron-hearted men
+that would take no denial nor putting off, that Timon’s house was
+now his jail, which he could not pass, nor go in nor out for
+them; one demanding his due of fifty talents, another bringing in
+a bill of five thousand crowns, which, if he would tell out his
+blood by drops and pay them so, he had not enough in his body to
+discharge, drop by drop.
+
+In this desperate and irremediable state (as it seemed) of his
+affairs, the eyes of all men were suddenly surprised at a new and
+incredible luster which this setting sun put forth. Once more
+Lord Timon proclaimed a feast, to which he invited his accustomed
+guests--lords, ladies, all that was great or fashionable in
+Athens. Lord Lucius and Lucullus came, Ventidius, Sempronius, and
+the rest. Who more sorry now than these fawning wretches, when
+they found (as they thought) that Lord Timon’s poverty was all
+pretense and had been only put on to make trial of their loves,
+to think that they should not have seen through the artifice at
+the time and have had the cheap credit of obliging his lordship?
+Yet who more glad to find the fountain of that noble bounty which
+they had thought dried up, still fresh and running? They came
+dissembling, protesting, expressing deepest sorrow and shame,
+that when his lordship sent to them they should have been so
+unfortunate as to want the present means to oblige so honorable a
+friend. But Timon begged them not to give such trifles a thought,
+for he had altogether forgotten it. And these base, fawning
+lords, though they had denied him money in his adversity, yet
+could not refuse their presence at this new blaze of his
+returning prosperity. For the swallow follows not summer more
+willingly than men of these dispositions follow the good fortunes
+of the great, nor more willingly leaves winter than these shrink
+from the first appearance of a reverse. Such summer birds are
+men. But now with music and state the banquet of smoking dishes
+was served up; and when the guests had a little done admiring
+whence the bankrupt Timon could find means to furnish so costly a
+feast, some doubting whether the scene which they saw was real,
+as scarce trusting their own eyes, at a signal given the dishes
+were uncovered and Timon’s drift appeared. Instead of those
+varieties and far-fetched dainties which they expected, that
+Timon’s epicurean table in past times had so liberally presented,
+now appeared under the covers of these dishes a preparation more
+suitable to Timon’s poverty--nothing but a little smoke and
+lukewarm water, fit feast for this knot of mouth-friends, whose
+professions were indeed smoke, and their hearts lukewarm and
+slippery as the water with which Timon welcomed his astonished
+guests, bidding them, “Uncover, dogs, and lap;” and, before they
+could recover their surprise, sprinkling it in their faces, that
+they might have enough, and throwing dishes and all after them,
+who now ran huddling out, lords, ladies, with their caps snatched
+up in haste, a splendid confusion, Timon pursuing them, still
+calling them what they were, “smooth smiling parasites,
+destroyers under the mask of courtesy, affable wolves, meek
+bears, fools of fortune, feast-friends, time-flies.” They,
+crowding out to avoid him, left the house more willingly
+than they had entered it; some losing their gowns and caps, and
+some their jewels in the hurry, all glad to escape out of the
+presence of such a mad lord, and from the ridicule of his mock
+banquet.
+
+This was the last feast which ever Timon made, and in it he took
+farewell of Athens and the society of men; for, after that, he
+betook himself to the woods, turning his back upon the hated
+city and upon all mankind, wishing the walls of that detestable
+city might sink, and the houses fall upon their owners, wishing
+all plagues which infest humanity--war, outrage, poverty,
+diseases--might fasten upon its inhabitants, praying the just
+gods to confound all Athenians, both young and old, high and low;
+so wishing, he went to the woods, where he said he should find
+the unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. He stripped himself
+naked, that he might retain no fashion of a man, and dug a cave
+to live in, and lived solitary in the manner of a beast, eating
+the wild roots and drinking water, flying from the face of his
+kind, and choosing rather to herd with wild beasts, as more
+harmless and friendly than man.
+
+What a change from Lord Timon the rich, Lord Timon the delight of
+mankind, to Timon the naked, Timon the man-hater! Where were his
+flatterers now? Where were his attendants and retinue? Would the
+bleak air, that boisterous servitor, be his chamberlain, to put
+his shirt on warm? Would those stiff trees that had outlived the
+eagle turn young and airy pages to him, to skip on his errands
+when he bade them? Would the cool brook, when it was iced with
+winter, administer to him his warm broths and caudles when sick
+of an overnight’s surfeit? Or would the creatures that lived in
+those wild woods come and lick his hand and flatter him?
+
+Here on a day, when he was digging for roots, his poor
+sustenance, his spade struck against something heavy, which
+proved to be gold, a great heap which some miser had probably
+buried in a time of alarm, thinking to have come again and taken
+it from its prison, but died before the opportunity had arrived,
+without making any man privy to the concealment; so it lay, doing
+neither good nor harm, in the bowels of the earth, its mother, as
+if it had never come thence, till the accidental striking of
+Timon’s spade against it once more brought it to light.
+
+Here was a mass of treasure which, if Timon had retained his old
+mind, was enough to have purchased him friends and flatterers
+again; but Timon was sick of the false world and the sight of
+gold was poisonous to his eyes; and he would have restored it to
+the earth, but that, thinking of the infinite calamities which by
+means of gold happen to mankind, how the lucre of it causes
+robberies, oppression, injustice, briberies, violence, and
+murder, among men, he had a pleasure in imagining (such a rooted
+hatred did he bear to his species) that out of this heap, which
+in digging he had discovered, might arise some mischief to plague
+mankind. And some soldiers passing through the woods near to his
+cave at that instant, which proved to be a part of the troops of
+the Athenian captain Alcibiades, who, upon some disgust taken
+against the senators of Athens (the Athenians were ever noted to
+be a thankless and ungrateful people, giving disgust to their
+generals and best friends), was marching at the head of the same
+triumphant army which he had formerly headed in their defense, to
+war against them. Timon, who liked their business well, bestowed
+upon their captain the gold to pay his soldiers, requiring no
+other service from him than that he should with his conquering
+army lay Athens level with the ground, and burn, slay, kill all
+her inhabitants; not sparing the old men for their white beards,
+for (he said) they were usurers, nor the young children for their
+seeming innocent smiles, for those (he said) would live, if they
+grew up, to be traitors; but to steel his eyes and ears against
+any sights or sounds that might awaken compassion; and not to let
+the cries of virgins, babes, or mothers hinder him from making
+one universal massacre of the city, but to confound them all in
+his conquest; and when he had conquered, he prayed that the gods
+would confound him also, the conqueror. So thoroughly did Timon
+hate Athens, Athenians, and all mankind.
+
+While he lived in this forlorn state, leading a life more brutal
+than human, he was suddenly surprised one day with the appearance
+of a man standing in an admiring posture at the door of his
+cave. It was Flavius, the honest steward, whom love and zealous
+affection to his master had led to seek him out at his wretched
+dwelling and to offer his services; and the first sight of his
+master, the once noble Timon, in that abject condition, naked as
+he was born, living in the manner of a beast among beasts,
+looking like his own sad ruins and a monument of decay, so
+affected this good servant that he stood speechless, wrapped up
+in horror and confounded. And when he found utterance at last to
+his words, they were so choked with tears that Timon had much ado
+to know him again, or to make out who it was that had come (so
+contrary to the experience he had had of mankind) to offer him
+service in extremity. And being in the form and shape of a man,
+he suspected him for a traitor, and his tears for false; but the
+good servant by so many tokens confirmed the truth of his
+fidelity, and made it clear that nothing but love and zealous
+duty to his once dear master had brought him there, that Timon
+was forced to confess that the world contained one honest man;
+yet, being in the shape and form of a man, be could not look upon
+his man’s face without abhorrence, or hear words uttered from his
+man’s lips without loathing; and this singly honest man was
+forced to depart, because he was a man, and because, with a heart
+more gentle and compassionate than is usual to man, he bore man’s
+detested form and outward feature.
+
+But greater visitants than a poor steward were about to interrupt
+the savage quiet of Timon’s solitude. For now the day was come
+when the ungrateful lords of Athens sorely repented the injustice
+which they had done to the noble Timon. For Alcibiades, like an
+incensed wild boar, was raging at the walls of their city, and
+with his hot siege threatened to lay fair Athens in the dust. And
+now the memory of Lord Timon’s former prowess and military
+conduct came fresh into their forgetful minds, for Timon had been
+their general in past times, and a valiant and expert soldier,
+who alone of all the Athenians was deemed able to cope with a
+besieging army such as then threatened them, or to drive back the
+furious approaches of Alcibiades.
+
+A deputation of the senators was chosen in this emergency to wait
+upon Timon. To him they come in their extremity, to whom, when he
+was in extremity, they had shown but small regard; as if they
+presumed upon his gratitude whom they had disobliged, and had
+derived a claim to his courtesy from their own most discourteous
+and unpiteous treatment.
+
+Now they earnestly beseech him, implore him with tears, to return
+and save that city from which their ingratitude had so lately
+driven him; now they offer him riches, power, dignities,,
+satisfaction for past injuries, and public honors, and the public
+love; their persons, lives, and fortunes to be at his disposal,
+if he will but come back and save them. But Timon the naked,
+Timon the man-hater, was no longer Lord Timon, the lord of
+bounty, the flower of valor, their defense in war, their ornament
+in peace. If Alcibiades killed his countrymen, Timon cared not.
+If he sacked fair Athens, and slew her old men and her infants,
+Timon would rejoice. So he told them; and that there was not a
+knife in the unruly camp which he did not prize above the
+reverendest throat in Athens.
+
+This was all the answer he vouchsafed to the weeping,
+disappointed senators; only at parting he bade them commend him
+to his countrymen, and tell them that to ease them of their
+griefs and anxieties, and to prevent the consequences of fierce
+Alcibiades’s wrath, there was yet a way left, which he would
+teach them, for he had yet so much affection left for his dear
+countrymen as to be willing to do them a kindness before his
+death. These words a little revived the senators, who hoped that
+his kindness for their city was returning. Then Timon told them
+that he had a tree, which grew near his cave, which he should
+shortly have occasion to cut down, and he invited all his friends
+in Athens, high or low , of whatsoever degree, who wished to shun
+affliction, to come and take a taste of his tree before he cut it
+down; meaning that they might come and hang themselves on it and
+escape affliction that way.
+
+And this was the last courtesy, of all his noble bounties, which
+Timon showed to mankind, and this the last sight of him which his
+countrymen had, for not many days after, a poor soldier, passing
+by the sea-beach which was at a little distance from the woods
+which Timon frequented, found a tomb on the verge of the sea,
+with an inscription upon it purporting that it was the grave of
+Timon the man-hater, who “While he lived, did hate all living
+men, and, dying, wished a plague might consume all caitiffs
+left!”
+
+Whether he finished his life by violence, or whether mere
+distaste of life and the loathing he had for mankind brought
+Timon to his conclusion, was not clear, yet all men admired the
+fitness of his epitaph and the consistency of his end, dying, as
+he had lived, a hater of mankind. And some there were who fancied
+a conceit in the very choice which he had made of the sea-beach
+for his place of burial, where the vast sea might weep forever
+upon his grave, as in contempt of the transient and shallow tears
+of hypocritical and deceitful mankind.
+
+
+
+
+ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+The two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the
+Montagues. There had been an old quarrel between these families,
+which was grown to such a height, and so deadly was the enmity
+between them, that it extended to the remotest kindred, to the
+followers and retainers of both sides, in so much that a servant
+of the house of Montague could not meet a servant of the house of
+Capulet, nor a Capulet encounter with a Montague by chance, but
+fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued; and frequent were
+the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the
+happy quiet of Verona’s streets.
+
+Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies
+and many noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of
+Verona were present, and all comers were made welcome if they
+were not of the house of Montague. At this feast of Capulets,
+Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to the old Lord Montague, was
+present; and though it was dangerous for a Montague to be seen in
+this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo, persuaded the
+young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask, that
+he might see his Rosaline, and, seeing her, compare her with some
+choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his
+swan a crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio’s words;
+nevertheless, for the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go.
+For Romeo was a sincere and passionate lover, and one that lost
+his sleep for love and fled society to be alone, thinking on
+Rosaline, who disdained him and never requited his love with the
+least show of courtesy or affection; and Benvolio wished to cure
+his friend of this love by showing him diversity of ladies and
+company. To this feast of Capulets, then, young Romeo, with
+Benvolio and their friend Mercutio, went masked. Old Capulet bid
+them welcome and told them that ladies who had their toes
+unplagued with corns would dance with them. And the old man was
+light-hearted and merry, and said that he had worn a mask when he
+was young and could have told a whispering tale in a fair lady’s
+ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly struck with
+the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to
+him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show
+by night like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor; beauty too rich
+for use, too dear for earth! like a snowy dove trooping with
+crows (he said), so richly did her beauty and perfections shine
+above the ladies her companions. While he uttered these praises
+he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord Capulet, who knew
+him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of a fiery
+and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should
+come under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at
+their solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and
+would have struck young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord
+Capulet, would not suffer him to do any injury at that time, both
+out of respect to his guests and because Romeo had borne himself
+like a gentleman and all tongues in Verona bragged of him to be a
+virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to be patient
+against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile
+Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.
+
+The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady
+stood; and under favor of his masking habit, which might seem to
+excuse in part the liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to
+take her by the hand, calling it a shrine, which if he profaned
+by touching it, he was a blushing pilgrim and would kiss it for
+atonement.
+
+“Good pilgrim,” answered the lady, “your devotion shows by far
+too mannerly and too courtly. Saints have hands which pilgrims
+may touch but kiss not.”
+
+“Have not saints lips, and pilgrims, too?” said Romeo.
+
+“Aye,” said the lady, “lips which they must use in prayer.”
+
+“Oh, then, my dear saint,” said Romeo, “hear my prayer, and grant
+it, lest I despair.”
+
+In such like allusions and loving conceits they were engaged when
+the lady was called away to her mother. And Romeo, inquiring who
+her mother was, discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty he
+was so much struck with was young Juliet, daughter and heir to
+the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues; and that he
+had unknowingly engaged his heart to his foe. This troubled him,
+but it could not dissuade him from loving. As little rest had
+Juliet when she found that the gentle man that she had been
+talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly
+smit with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo
+which he had conceived for her; and a prodigious birth of love it
+seemed to her, that she must love her enemy and that her
+affections should settle there, where family considerations
+should induce her chiefly to hate.
+
+It being midnight, Romeo with his companions departed; but they
+soon missed him, for, unable to stay away from the house where he
+had left his heart, he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at
+the back of Juliet’s house. Here he had not been long, ruminating
+on his new love, when Juliet appeared above at a window, through
+which her exceeding beauty seemed to break like the light of the
+sun in the east; and the moon, which shone in the orchard with a
+faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with grief at
+the superior luster of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek
+upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that
+hand, that he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking
+herself alone, fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
+
+“Ah me!”
+
+Romeo, enraptured to bear her speak, said, softly and unheard by
+her, “Oh, speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being
+over my head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals
+fall back to gaze upon.”
+
+She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new passion
+which that night’s adventure had given birth to, called upon her
+lover by name (whom she supposed absent). “O Romeo, Romeo!” said
+she, “wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy
+name, for my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and
+I no longer will be a Capulet.”
+
+Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he
+was desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her
+passionate discourse with herself (as she thought), still chiding
+Romeo for being Romeo and a Montague, and wishing him some other
+name, or that he would put away that hated name, and for that
+name which was no part of himself he should take all herself. At
+this loving word Romeo could no longer refrain, but, taking up
+the dialogue as if her words had been addressed to him
+personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call him Love,
+or by whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer
+Romeo, if that name was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to
+hear a man’s voice in the garden, did not at first know who it
+was that by favor of the night and darkness had thus stumbled
+upon the discovery of her secret; but when he spoke again, though
+her ears had not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s
+uttering, yet so nice is a lover’s hearing that she immediately
+knew him to be young Romeo, and she expostulated with him on the
+danger to which he had exposed himself by climbing the orchard
+walls, for if any of her kinsmen should find him there it would
+be death to him, being a Montague.
+
+“Alack!” said Romeo, “there is more peril in your eye than in
+twenty of their swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I
+am proof against their enmity. Better my life should be ended by
+their hate than that hated life should be prolonged to live
+without your love.”
+
+“How came you into this place,” said Juliet, “and by whose
+direction?”
+
+“Love directed me,” answered Romeo. “I am no pilot, yet ‘wert
+thou as far apart from me as that vast shore which is washed with
+the farthest sea, I should venture for such merchandise.”
+
+A crimson blush came over Juliet’s face, yet unseen by Romeo by
+reason of the night, when she reflected upon the discovery which
+she had made, yet not meaning to make it, of her love to Romeo.
+She would fain have recalled her words, but that was impossible;
+fain would she have stood upon form, and have kept her lover at a
+distance, as the custom of discreet ladies is, to frown and be
+perverse and give their suitors harsh denials at first; to stand
+off, and affect a coyness or indifference where they most love,
+that their lovers may not think them too lightly or too easily
+won; for the difficulty of attainment increases the value of the
+object. But there was no room in her case for denials, or
+puttings off, or any of the customary arts of delay and
+protracted courtship. Romeo had heard from her own tongue, when
+she did not dream that he was near her, a confession of her love.
+So with an honest frankness which the novelty of her situation
+excused she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard, and,
+addressing him by the name of FAIR MONTAGUE (love can sweeten a
+sour name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to
+levity or an unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it
+(if it were a fault) upon the accident of the night which had so
+strangely discovered her thoughts. And she added, that though her
+behavior to him might not be sufficiently prudent, measured by
+the custom of her sex, yet that she would prove more true than
+many whose prudence was dissembling, and their modesty artificial
+cunning.
+
+Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness that nothing
+was farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonor
+to such an honored lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to
+swear; for although she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that
+night’s contract--it was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But
+he being urgent with her to exchange a vow of love with him that
+night, she said that she already had given him hers before he
+requested it, meaning, when he overheard her confession; but she
+would retract what she then bestowed, for the pleasure of giving
+it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her love
+as deep. From this loving conference she was called away by her
+nurse, who slept with her and thought it time for her to be in
+bed, for it was near to daybreak; but, hastily returning, she
+said three or four words more to Romeo the purport of which was,
+that if his love was indeed honorable, and his purpose marriage,
+she would send a messenger to him to-morrow to appoint a time for
+their marriage, when she would lay all her fortunes at his feet
+and follow him as her lord through the world. While they were
+settling this point Juliet was repeatedly called for by her
+nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned again, for
+she seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her as a young girl of
+her bird, which she will let hop a little from her hand and pluck
+it back with a silken thread; and Romeo was as loath to part as
+she, for the sweetest music to lovers is the sound of each
+other’s tongues at night. But at last they parted, wishing
+mutually sweet sleep and rest for that night.
+
+The day was breaking when they parted, and Romeo, who was too
+full of thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to
+allow him to sleep, instead of going home, bent his course to a
+monastery hard by, to find Friar Lawrence. The good friar was
+already up at his devotions, but, seeing young Romeo abroad so
+early, he conjectured rightly that he had not been abed that
+night, but that some distemper of youthful affection had kept him
+waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo’s wakefulness
+to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he thought
+that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo
+revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance
+of the friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his
+eyes and hands in a sort of wonder at the sudden change in
+Romeo’s affections, for he had been privy to all Romeo’s love for
+Rosaline and his many complaints of her disdain; and he said that
+young men’s love lay not truly in their hearts, but in their
+eyes. But Romeo replying that he himself had often chidden him
+for doting on Rosaline, who could not love him again, whereas
+Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the friar assented in
+some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial
+alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might happily be the
+means of making up the long breach between the Capulets and the
+Montagues, which no one more lamented than this good friar who
+was a friend to both the families and had often interposed his
+mediation to make up the quarrel without effect; partly moved by
+policy, and partly by his fondness for young Romeo, to whom he
+could deny nothing, the old man consented to join their hands in
+marriage.
+
+Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent
+from a messenger which she had despatched according to promise,
+did not fail to be early at the cell of Friar Lawrence, where
+their hands were joined in holy marriage, the good friar praying
+the heavens to smile upon that act, and in the union of this
+young Montague and young Capulet, to bury the old strife and long
+dissensions of their families.
+
+The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed,
+impatient for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised
+to come and meet her in the orchard, where they had met the night
+before; and the time between seemed as tedious to her as the
+night before some great festival seems to an impatient child that
+has got new finery which it may not put on till the morning.
+
+That same day, about noon, Romeo’s friends, Benvolio and
+Mercutio, walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a
+party of the Capulets with the impetuous Tybalt at their head.
+This was the same angry Tybalt who would have fought with Romeo
+at old Lord Capulet’s feast. He, seeing Mercutio, accused him
+bluntly of associating with Romeo, a Montague. Mercutio, who had
+as much fire and youthful blood in him as Tybalt, replied to this
+accusation with some sharpness; and in spite of all Benvolio
+could say to moderate their wrath a quarrel was beginning when,
+Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from
+Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of
+villain. Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all
+men, because he was the kinsman of Juliet and much beloved by
+her; besides, this young Montague had never thoroughly entered
+into the family quarrel, being by nature wise and gentle, and the
+name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady’s name, was now rather
+a charm to allay resentment than a watchword to excite fury. So
+he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by the
+name of GOOD CAPULET, as if he, though a Montague, had some
+secret pleasure in uttering that name; but Tybalt, who hated all
+Montagues as he hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his
+weapon; and Mercutio, who knew not of Romeo’s secret motive for
+desiring peace with Tybalt, but looked upon his present
+forbearance as a sort of calm dishonorable submission, with many
+disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution of his first
+quarrel with him; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till Mercutio
+fell, receiving his death’s wound while Romeo and Benvolio were
+vainly endeavoring to part the combatants.  Mercutio being dead,
+Romeo kept his temper no longer, but  returned the scornful
+appellation of villain which Tybalt had given him, and they
+fought till Tybalt was slain by Romeo. This deadly broil falling
+out in the midst of Verona at noonday, the news of it quickly
+brought a crowd of citizens to the spot and among them the Lords
+Capulet and Montague, with their wives; and soon after arrived
+the prince himself, who, being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt
+had slain, and having had the peace of his government often
+disturbed by these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came
+determined to put the law in strictest force against those who
+should be found to be offenders. Benvolio, who had been
+eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the prince to relate
+the origin of it; which he did, keeping as near the truth as he
+could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part
+which his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief
+for the loss of her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her
+revenge, exhorted the prince to do strict justice upon his
+murderer, and to,pay no attention to Benvolio’s representation,
+who, being Romeo’s friend and a Montague, spoke partially. Thus
+she pleaded against her new son-in-law, but she knew not yet that
+he was her son-in-law and Juliet’s husband. On the other hand was
+to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her child’s life, and
+arguing with some justice that Romeo had done nothing worthy of
+punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was already
+forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The prince,
+unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a
+careful examination of the facts pronounced his sentence, and by
+that sentence Romeo was banished from Verona.
+
+Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride
+and now by this decree seemed everlastingly divorced! When the
+tidings reached her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo,
+who had slain her dear cousin. She called him a beautiful tyrant,
+a fiend angelical, a ravenous dove, a lamb with a wolf’s nature,
+a serpent-heart hid with a flowering face, and other, like
+contradictory names, which denoted the struggles in her mind
+between her love and her resentment. But in the end love got the
+mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo had
+slain her cousin turned to drops of joy that her husband lived
+whom Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they
+were altogether of grief for Romeo’s banishment. That word was
+more terrible to her than the death of many Tybalts.
+
+Romeo, after the fray, had taken refuge in Friar Lawrence’s cell,
+where he was first made acquainted with the prince’s sentence,
+which seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it
+appeared there was no world out of Verona’s walls, no living out
+of the sight of Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and
+all beyond was purgatory, torture, hell. The good friar would
+have applied the consolation of philosophy to his griefs; but
+this frantic young man would hear of none, but like a madman he
+tore his hair and threw himself all along upon the ground, as he
+said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly state
+he was roused by a message from his dear lady which a little
+revived him; and then the friar took the advantage to expostulate
+with him on the unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain
+Tybalt, but would he also slay himself, slay his dear lady, who
+lived but in his life? The noble form of man, he said, was but a
+shape of wax when it wanted the courage which should keep it
+firm. The law had been lenient to him that instead of death,
+which he had incurred, had pronounced by the prince’s mouth only
+banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain
+him-there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive and
+(beyond all hope) had become his dear wife; therein he was most
+happy. All these blessings, as the friar made them out to be, did
+Romeo put from him like a sullen misbehaved wench. And the friar
+bade him beware, for such as despaired (he said) died miserable.
+Then when Romeo was a little calmed he counseled him that he
+should go that night and secretly take his leave of Juliet, and
+thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should
+sojourn till the friar found fit occasion to publish his
+marriage, which might be a joyful means of reconciling their
+families; and then he did not doubt but the prince would be moved
+to pardon him, and he would return with twenty times more joy
+than he went forth with grief. Romeo was convinced by these wise
+counsels of the friar, and took his leave to go and seek his
+lady, proposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak
+pursue his journey alone to Mantua; to which place the good friar
+promised to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him
+with the state of affairs at home.
+
+That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret
+admission to her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard
+her confession of love the night before. That had been a night of
+unmixed joy and rapture; but the pleasures of this night and the
+delight which these lovers took in each other’s society were
+sadly allayed with the prospect of parting and the fatal
+adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to come
+too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark she
+would have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which
+sings by night; but it was too truly the lark which sang, and a
+discordant and unpleasing note it seemed to her; and the streaks
+of day in the east too certainly pointed out that it was time for
+these lovers to part. Romeo took his leave of his dear wife with
+a heavy heart, promising to write to her from Mantua every hour
+in the day; and when he had descended from her chamber window, as
+he stood below her on the ground, in that sad foreboding state of
+mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one dead in the
+bottom of a tomb. Romeo’s mind misgave him in like manner. But
+now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him to
+be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.
+
+This was but the beginning of the tragedy of this pair of star-
+crossed lovers. Romeo had not been gone many days before the old
+Lord Capulet proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had
+chosen for her, not dreaming that she was married already, was
+Count Paris, a gallant, young, and noble gentleman, no unworthy
+suitor to the young Juliet if she had never seen Romeo.
+
+The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father’s
+offer. She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent
+death of Tybalt, which had left her spirits too weak to meet a
+husband with any face of joy, and how indecorous it would show
+for the family of the Capulets to be celebrating a nuptial feast
+when his funeral solemnities were hardly over. She pleaded every
+reason against the match but the true one, namely, that she was
+married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses,
+and in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the
+following Thursday she should be married to Paris. And having
+found her a husband, rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest
+maid in Verona might joyfully accept, he could not bear that out
+of an affected coyness, as he construed her denial, she should
+oppose obstacles to her own good fortune.
+
+In this extremity Juliet applied to the friendly friar, always a
+counselor in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to
+undertake a desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go
+into the grave alive rather than marry Paris, her own dear
+husband living, he directed her to go home, and appear merry, and
+give her consent to marry Paris, according to her father’s
+desire, and on the next night, which was the night before the
+marriage, to drink off the contents of a vial which he then gave
+her, the effect of which would be that for two-and-forty hours
+after drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless, and when
+the bridegroom came to fetch her in the morning he would find her
+to appearance dead; that then she would be borne, as the manner
+in that country was, uncovered on a bier, to be buried in the
+family vault; that if she could put off womanish fear, and
+consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours after
+swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would
+be sure to awake, as from a dream; and before she should awake he
+would let her husband know their drift, and he should come in the
+night and bear her thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of
+marrying Paris, gave young Juliet strength to undertake this
+horrible adventure; and she took the vial of the friar, promising
+to observe his directions.
+
+Going from the monastery, she met the young Count Paris, and,
+modestly dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was
+joyful news to the Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put
+youth into the old man; and Juliet, who had displeased him
+exceedingly by her refusal of the count, was his darling again,
+now she promised to be obedient. All things in the house were in
+a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was spared to
+prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before
+witnessed.
+
+On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many
+misgivings lest the friar, to avoid the blame which might be
+imputed to him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison;
+but then he was always known for a holy man. Then lest she should
+awake before the time that Romeo was to come for her; whether the
+terror of the place, a vault full of dead Capulets’ bones, and
+where Tybalt, all bloody, lay festering in his shroud, would not
+be enough to drive her distracted. Again she thought of all the
+stories she had heard of spirits haunting the places where their
+bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo and her
+aversion for Paris returned, and she desperately swallowed the
+draught and became insensible.
+
+When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken
+his bride, instead of a living Juliet her chamber presented the
+dreary spectacle of a lifeless corse. What death to his hopes!
+What confusion then reigned through the whole house! Poor Paris
+lamenting his bride, whom most detestable death had beguiled him
+of, had divorced from him even before their hands were joined.
+But still more piteous it was to hear the mournings of the old
+Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one poor loving
+child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death had snatched her from
+their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of
+seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and
+advantageous match. Now all things that were ordained for the
+festival were turned from their properties to do the office of a
+black funeral. The wedding cheer served for a sad burial feast,
+the bridal hymns were changed for sullen dirges, the sprightly
+instruments to melancholy.bells, and the flowers that should have
+been strewed in the bride’s path now served but to strew her
+corse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was needed
+to bury her, and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment
+the cheerful hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers
+of the dead.
+
+Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the
+dismal story of his Juliet’s death to Romeo, at Mantua, before
+the messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Lawrence to
+apprise him that these were mock funerals only, and but the
+shadow and representation of death, and that his dear lady lay in
+the tomb but for a short while, expecting when Romeo would come
+to release her from that dreary mansion. Just before, Romeo had
+been unusually joyful and light-hearted. He had dreamed in the
+night that he was dead (a strange dream, that gave a dead man
+leave to think) and that his lady came and found him dead, and
+breathed such life with kisses in his lips that he revived and
+was an emperor! And now that a messenger came from Verona, he
+thought surely it was to confirm some good news which his dreams
+had presaged. But when the contrary to this flattering vision
+appeared, and that it was his lady who was dead in truth, whom he
+could not revive by any kisses, he ordered horses to be got
+ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona and to see
+his lady in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the
+thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary,
+whose shop in Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly
+appearance of the man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show
+in his show of empty boxes ranged on dirty shelves, and other
+tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had said at the time (perhaps
+having some misgivings that his own disastrous life might haply
+meet with a conclusion so desperate):
+
+“If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is
+death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him.”
+
+These words of his now came into his mind and he sought out the
+apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him
+gold, which his poverty could not resist, sold him a poison
+which, if he swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of
+twenty men, would quickly despatch him.
+
+With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his
+dear lady in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight,
+to swallow the poison and be buried by her side. He reached
+Verona at midnight, and found the churchyard in the midst of
+which was situated the ancient tomb of the Capulets. He had
+provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching-iron, and was
+proceeding to break open the monument when he was interrupted by
+a voice, which by the name of VILE MONTAGUE bade him desist from
+his unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come
+to the tomb of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night to strew
+flowers and to weep over the grave of her that should have been
+his bride. He knew not what an interest Romeo had in the dead,
+but, knowing him to be a Montague and (as he supposed) a sworn
+foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come by night to
+do some villainous shame to the dead bodies; therefore in an
+angry tone he bade him desist; and as a criminal, condemned by
+the laws of Verona to die if he were found within the walls of
+the city, he would have apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to
+leave him, and warned him by the fate of Tybalt, who lay buried
+there, not to provoke his anger or draw down another sin upon his
+head by forcing him to kill him. But the count in scorn refused
+his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which, Romeo
+resisting, they fought, and Paris fell. When Romeo, by the help
+of a light, came to see who it was that he had slain, that it was
+Paris, who (he learned in his way from Mantua) should have
+married Juliet, he took the dead youth by the hand, as one whom
+misfortune had made a companion, and said that he would bury him
+in a triumphal grave, meaning in Juliet’s grave, which he now
+opened. And there lay his lady, as one whom death had no power
+upon to change a feature or complexion, in her matchless beauty;
+or as if death were amorous, and the lean, abhorred monster kept
+her there for his delight; for she lay yet fresh and blooming, as
+she had fallen to sleep when she swallowed that benumbing potion;
+and near her lay Tybalt in his bloody shroud, whom Romeo seeing,
+begged pardon of his lifeless corse, and for Juliet’s sake called
+him COUSIN, and said that he was about to do him a favor by
+putting his enemy to death. Here Romeo took his last leave of his
+lady’s lips, kissing them; and here he shook the burden of his
+cross stars from his weary body, swallowing that poison which the
+apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, not
+like that dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the
+effect of which was now nearly expiring, and she about to awake
+to complain that Romeo had not kept his time, or that he had come
+too soon.
+
+For now the hour was arrived at which the friar had promised that
+she should awake; and he, having learned that his letters which
+he had sent to Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the
+messenger, had never reached Romeo, came himself, provided with a
+pickax and lantern, to deliver the lady from her confinement; but
+he was surprised to find a light already burning in the Capulets’
+monument, and to see swords and blood near it, and Romeo and
+Paris lying breathless by the monument,
+
+Before he could entertain a conjecture, to imagine how these
+fatal accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance,
+and, seeing the friar near her, she remembered the place where
+she was, and the occasion of her being there, and asked for
+Romeo, but the friar, hearing a noise, bade her come out of that
+place of death and of unnatural sleep, for a greater power than
+they could contradict had thwarted their intents; and, being
+frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled. But when
+Juliet saw the cup closed in her true love’s hands, she guessed
+that poison had been the cause of his end, and she would have
+swallowed the dregs if any had been left, and she kissed his
+still warm lips to try if any poison yet did hang upon them; then
+hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she quickly unsheathed a
+dagger which she wore, and, stabbing herself, died by her true
+Romeo’s side.
+
+The watch by this time had come up to the place. A page belonging
+to Count Paris, who had witnessed the fight between his master
+and Romeo, had given the alarm, which had spread among the
+citizens, who went up and down the streets of Verona confusedly
+exclaiming, “A Paris! a Romeo! a Juliet!” as the rumor had
+imperfectly reached them, till the uproar brought Lord Montague
+and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the prince, to inquire
+into the causes of the disturbance. The friar had been
+apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard,
+trembling, sighing, and weeping in a suspicious manner. A great
+multitude being assembled at the Capulets’ monument, the friar
+was demanded by the prince to deliver what he knew of these
+strange and disastrous accidents.
+
+And there, in the presence of the old Lords Montague and Capulet,
+he faithfully related the story of their children’s fatal love,
+the part he took in promoting their marriage, in the hope in that
+union to end the long quarrels between their families; how Romeo,
+there dead, was husband to Juliet, and Juliet, there dead, was
+Romeo’s faithful wife; how, before he could find a fit
+opportunity to divulge their marriage, another match was
+projected for Juliet, who, to avoid the crime of a second
+marriage, swallowed the sleeping-draught (as he advised), and all
+thought her dead; how meantime he wrote to Romeo to come and take
+her thence when the force of the potion should cease, and by what
+unfortunate miscarriage of the messenger the letters never
+reached Romeo. Further than this the friar could not follow the
+story, nor knew more than that, coming himself to deliver Juliet
+from that place of death, he found the Count Paris and Romeo
+slain. The remainder of the transactions was supplied by the
+narration of the page who had seen Paris and Romeo fight, and by
+the servant who came with Romeo from Verona, to whom this
+faithful lover had given letters to be delivered to his father in
+the event of his death, which made good the friar’s words,
+confessing his marriage with Juliet, imploring the forgiveness of
+his parents, acknowledging the buying of the poison of the poor
+apothecary and his intent in coming to the monument to die and
+lie with Juliet. All these circumstances agreed together to clear
+the friar from any hand he could be supposed to have in these
+complicated slaughters, further than as the unintended
+consequences of his own well-meant, yet too artificial and subtle
+contrivances.
+
+And the prince, turning to these old lords, Montague and Capulet,
+rebuked them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed
+them what a scourge Heaven had laid upon such offenses, that it
+had found means even through the love of their children to punish
+their unnatural hate. And these old rivals, no longer enemies,
+agreed to bury their long strife in their children’s graves; and
+Lord Capulet requested Lord Montague to give him his hand,
+calling him by the name of brother, as if in acknowledgment of
+the union of their families by the marriage of the young Capulet
+and Montague; and saying that Lord Montague’s hand (in token of
+reconcilement) was all he demanded for his daughter’s jointure.
+But Lord Montague said he would give him more, for he would raise
+her a statue of pure gold that, while Verona kept its name, no
+figure should be so esteemed for its richness and workmanship as
+that of the true and faithful Juliet. And Lord Capulet in return
+said that he would raise another statue to Romeo. So did these
+poor old lords, when it was too late, strive to outgo each other
+in mutual courtesies; while so deadly had been their rage and
+enmity in past times that nothing but the fearful overthrow of
+their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and
+dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the
+noble families.
+
+
+
+
+HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+
+
+Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, becoming a widow by the sudden death
+of King Hamlet, in less than two months after his death married
+his brother Claudius, which was noted by all people at the tim
+for a strange act of indiscretion, or unfeelingness, or worse;
+for this Claudius did no way resemble her late husband in the
+qualities of his person or his mind, but was as contemptible in
+outward appearance as he was base and unworthy in disposition;
+and suspicions did not fail to arise in the minds of some that he
+had privately made away with his brother, the late king, with the
+view of marrying his widow and ascending the throne of Denmark,
+to the exclusion of young Hamlet, the son of the buried king and
+lawful successor to the throne.
+
+But upon no one did this unadvised action of the queen make such
+impression as upon this young prince, who loved and venerated the
+memory of his dead father almost to idolatry, and, being of a
+nice sense of honor and a most exquisite practiser of propriety
+himself, did sorely take to heart this unworthy conduct of his
+mother Gertrude; in so much that, between grief for his father’s
+death and shame for his mother’s marriage, this young prince was
+overclouded with a deep melancholy, and lost all his mirth and
+all his good looks; all his customary pleasure in books forsook
+him, his princely exercises and sports, proper to his youth, were
+no longer acceptable; he grew weary of the world, which seemed to
+him an unweeded garden, where all the wholesome flowers were
+choked up and nothing but weeds could thrive. Not that the
+prospect of exclusion from the throne, his lawful inheritance,
+weighed so much upon his spirits, though that to a young and
+high-minded prince was a bitter wound and a sore indignity; but
+what so galled him and took away all his cheerful spirits was
+that his mother had shown herself so forgetful to his father’s
+memory, and such a father! who had been to her so loving and so
+gentle a husband! and then she always appeared as loving and
+obedient a wife to him, and would hang upon him as if her
+affection grew to him. And now within two months, or, as it
+seemed to young Hamlet, less than two months, she had married
+again, married his uncle, her dear husband’s brother, in itself a
+highly improper and unlawful marriage, from the nearness of
+relationship, but made much more so by the indecent haste with
+which it was concluded and the unkingly character of the man whom
+she had chosen to be the partner of her throne and bed. This it
+was which more than the loss of ten kingdoms dashed the spirits
+and brought a cloud over the mind of this honorable young prince.
+
+In vain was all that his mother Gertrude or the king could do to
+contrive to divert him; he still appeared in court in a suit of
+deep black, as mourning for the king his father’s death, which
+mode of dress he had never laid aside, not even in compliment to
+his mother upon the day she was married, nor could he be brought
+to join in any of the festivities or rejoicings of that (as
+appeared to him) disgraceful day.
+
+What mostly troubled him was an uncertainty about the manner of
+his father’s death. It was given out by Claudius that a serpent
+had stung him; but young Hamlet had shrewd suspicions that
+Claudius himself was the serpent; in plain English, that he had
+murdered him for his crown, and that the serpent who stung his
+father did now sit on the throne.
+
+How far he was right in this conjecture and what he ought to
+think of his mother, how far she was privy to this murder and
+whether by her consent or knowledge, or without, it came to pass,
+were the doubts which continually harassed and distracted him.
+
+A rumor had reached the ear of young Hamlet that an apparition,
+exactly resembling the dead king his father, had been seen by the
+soldiers upon watch, on the platform before the palace at
+midnight, for two or three nights successively. The figure came
+constantly clad in the same suit of armor, from head to foot,
+which the dead king was known to have worn. And they who saw it
+(Hamlet’s bosom friend Horatio was one) agreed in their testimony
+as to the time and manner of its appearance that it came just as
+the clock struck twelve; that it looked pale, with a face more of
+sorrow than of anger; that its beard was grisly, and the color a
+SABLE SILVERED, as they had seen it in his lifetime; that it
+made no answer when they spoke to it; yet once they thought it
+lifted up its head and addressed itself to motion, as if it were
+about to speak; but in that moment the morning cock crew and it
+shrank in haste away, and vanished out of their sight.
+
+The young prince, strangely amazed at their relation, which was
+too consistent and agreeing with itself to disbelieve, concluded
+that it was his father’s ghost which they had seen, and
+determined to take his watch with the soldiers that night, that
+he might have a chance of seeing it; for he reasoned with himself
+that such an appearance did not come for nothing, but that the
+ghost had something to impart, and though it had been silent
+hitherto, yet it would speak to him. And he waited with
+impatience for the coming of night.
+
+When night came he took his stand with Horatio, and Marcellus,
+one of the guard, upon the platform, where this apparition was
+accustomed to walk; and it being a cold night, and the air
+unusually raw and nipping, Hamlet and Horatio and their companion
+fell into some talk about the coldness of the night, which was
+suddenly broken off by Horatio announcing that the ghost was
+coming.
+
+At the sight of his father’s spirit Hamlet was struck with a
+sudden surprise and fear.’ He at first called upon the angels and
+heavenly ministers to defend them, for he knew not whether it
+were a good spirit or bad, whether it came for good or evil; but
+he gradually assumed more courage; and his father (as it seemed
+to him) looked upon him so piteously, and as it were desiring to
+have conversation with him, and did in all respects appear so
+like himself as he was when he lived, that Hamlet could not help
+addressing him. He called him by his name, “Hamlet, King,
+Father!” and conjured him that he would tell the reason why he
+had left his grave, where they had seen him quietly bestowed, to
+come again and visit the earth and the moonlight; and besought
+him that he would let them know if there was anything which they
+could do to give peace to his spirit. And the ghost beckoned to
+Hamlet, that he should go with him to some more removed place
+where they might be alone; and Horatio and Marcellus would have
+dissuaded the young prince from following it, for they feared
+lest it should be some evil spirit who would tempt him to the
+neighboring sea or to the top of some dreadful cliff, and there
+put on some horrible shape which might deprive the prince of his
+reason. But their counsels and entreaties could not alter
+Hamlet’s determination, who cared too little about life to fear
+the losing of it; and as to his soul, he said, what could the
+spirit do to that, being a thing immortal as itself? And he felt
+as hardy as a lion, and, bursting from them, who did all they
+could to hold him, he followed whithersoever the spirit led him.
+
+And when they were alone together, the spirit broke silence and
+told him that he was the ghost of Hamlet, his father, who had
+been cruelly murdered, and he told the manner of it; that it was
+done by his own brother Claudius, Hamlet’s uncle, as Hamlet had
+already but too much suspected, for the hope of succeeding to his
+bed and crown. That as he was sleeping in his garden, his custom
+always in the afternoon, his treasonous brother stole upon him in
+his sleep and poured the juice of poisonous henbane into his
+ears, which has such an antipathy to the life of man that, swift
+as quicksilver, it courses through all the veins of the body,
+baking up the blood and spreading a crust-like leprosy all over
+the skin. Thus sleeping, by a brother’s hand he was cut off at
+once from his crown, his queen, and his life; and he adjured
+Hamlet, if he did ever his dear father love, that he would
+revenge his foul murder. And the ghost lamented to his son that
+his mother should so fall off from virtue as to prove false to
+the wedded love of her first husband and to marry his murderer;
+but he cautioned Hamlet, howsoever he proceeded in his revenge
+against his wicked uncle, by no means to act any violence against
+the person of his mother, but to leave her to Heaven, and to the
+stings and thorns of conscience. And Hamlet promised to observe
+the ghost’s direction in all things, and the ghost vanished.
+
+And when Hamlet was left alone he took up a solemn resolution
+that all he had in his memory, all that he had ever learned by
+books or observation, should be instantly forgotten by him, and
+nothing live in his brain but the memory of what the ghost had
+told him and enjoined him to do. And Hamlet related the
+particulars of the conversation which had passed to none but his
+dear friend Horatio; and he enjoined both to him and Marcellus
+the strictest secrecy as to what they had seen that night.
+
+The terror which the sight of the ghost had left upon the senses
+of Hamlet, he being weak and dispirited before, almost unhinged
+his mind and drove him beside his reason. And he, fearing that it
+would continue to have this effect, which might subject him to
+observation and set his uncle upon his guard, if he suspected
+that he was meditating anything against him, or that Hamlet
+really knew more of his father’s death than he professed, took up
+a strange resolution, from that time to counterfeit as if he were
+really and truly mad; thinking that he would be less an object of
+suspicion when his uncle should believe him incapable of any
+serious project, and that his real perturbation of mind would be
+best covered and pass concealed under a disguise of pretended
+lunacy.
+
+From this time Hamlet affected a certain wildness and strangeness
+in his apparel, his speech, and behavior, and did so excellently
+counterfeit the madman that the king and queen were both
+deceived, and not thinking his grief for his father’s death a
+sufficient cause to produce such a distemper, for they knew not
+of the appearance of the ghost, they concluded that his malady
+was love and they thought they had found out the object.
+
+Before Hamlet fell into the melancholy way which has been
+related he had dearly loved a fair maid called Ophelia, the
+daughter of Polonius, the king’s chief counselor in affairs of
+state. He had sent her letters and rings, and made many tenders
+of his affection to her, and importuned her with love in
+honorable fashion; and she had given belief to his vows and
+importunities. But the melancholy which he fell into latterly
+had made him neglect her, and from the time he conceived the
+project of counterfeiting madness he affected to treat her with
+unkindness and a sort of rudeness; but she, good lady, rather
+than reproach him with being false to her, persuaded herself that
+it was nothing but the disease in his mind, and no settled
+unkindness, which had made him less observant of her than
+formerly; and she compared the faculties of his once noble mind
+and excellent understanding, impaired as they were with the deep
+melancholy that oppressed him, to sweet bells which in themselves
+are capable of most exquisite music, but when jangled out of
+tune, or rudely handled, produce only a harsh and unpleasing
+sound.
+
+Though the rough business which Hamlet had in hand, the revenging
+of his father’s death upon his murderer, did not suit with the
+playful state of courtship, or admit of the society of so idle a
+passion as love now seemed to him, yet it could not hinder but
+that soft thoughts of his Ophelia would come between, and in one
+of these moments, when he thought that his treatment of this
+gentle lady had been unreasonably harsh, he wrote her a letter
+full of wild starts of passion, and in extravagant terms, such as
+agreed with his supposed madness, but mixed with some gentle
+touches of affection, which could not but show to this honored
+lady that a deep love for her yet lay at the bottom of his heart.
+He bade her to doubt the stars were fire, and to doubt that the
+sun did move, to doubt truth to be a liar, but never to doubt
+that he loved; with more of such extravagant phrases. This letter
+Ophelia dutifully showed to her father, and the old man thought
+himself bound to communicate it to the king and queen, who from
+that time supposed that the true cause of Hamlet’s madness was
+love. And the queen wished that the good beauties of Ophelia
+might be the happy cause of his wildness, for so she hoped that
+her virtues might happily restore him to his accustomed way
+again, to both their honors.
+
+But Hamlet’s malady lay deeper than she supposed, or than could
+be so cured. His father’s ghost, which he had seen, still haunted
+his imagination, and the sacred injunction to revenge his murder
+gave him no rest till it was accomplished. Every hour of delay
+seemed to him a sin and a violation of his father’s commands. Yet
+how to compass the death of the king, surrounded as he constantly
+was with his guards, was no easy matter. Or if it had been, the
+presence of the queen, Hamlet’s mother, who was generally with
+the king, was a restraint upon his purpose, which he could not
+break through. Besides, the very circumstance that the usurper
+was his mother’s husband, filled him with some remorse and still
+blunted the edge of his purpose. The mere act of putting a
+fellow-creature to death was in itself odious and terrible to a
+disposition naturally so gentle as Hamlet’s was. His very
+melancholy, and the dejection of spirits he had so long been ill,
+produced an irresoluteness and wavering of purpose which kept him
+from proceeding to extremities. Moreover, he could not help
+having some scruples upon his mind, whether the spirit which he
+had seen was indeed his father, or whether it might not be the
+devil, who he had heard has power to take any form he pleases,
+and who might have assumed his father’s shape only to take
+advantage of his weakness and his melancholy, to drive him to the
+doing of so desperate an act as murder. And he determined that he
+would have more certain grounds to go upon than a vision, or
+apparition, which might be a delusion.
+
+While he was in this irresolute mind there came to the court
+certain players, in whom Hamlet formerly used to take delight,
+and particularly to hear one of them speak a tragical speech,
+describing the death of old Priam, King of Troy, with the grief
+of Hecuba his queen. Hamlet welcomed his old friends, the
+players, and remembering how that speech had formerly given him
+pleasure, requested the player to repeat it; which he did in so
+lively a manner, setting forth the cruel murder of the feeble old
+king, with the destruction of his people and city by fire, and
+the mad grief of the old queen, running barefoot up and down the
+palace, with a poor clout upon that head where a crown had been,
+and with nothing but a blanket upon her loins, snatched up in
+haste, where she had worn a royal robe; that not only it drew
+tears from all that stood by, who thought they saw the real
+scene, so lively was it represented, but even the player himself
+delivered it with a broken voice and real tears. This put Hamlet
+upon thinking, if that player could so work himself up to passion
+by a mere fictitious speech, to weep for one that he had never
+seen, for Hecuba, that had been dead so many hundred years, how
+dull was he, who having a real motive and cue for passion, a real
+king and a dear father murdered, was yet so little moved that his
+revenge all this while had seemed to have slept in dull and muddy
+forgetfulness! and while he meditated on actors and acting, and
+the powerful effects which a good play, represented to the life,
+has upon the spectator, he remembered the instance of some
+murderer, who, seeing a murder on the stage, was by the mere
+force of the scene and resemblance of circumstances so affected
+that on the spot he confessed the crime which he had committed.
+And he determined that these players should play something like
+the murder of his father before his uncle, and he would watch
+narrowly what effect it might have upon him, and from his looks
+he would be able to gather with more certainty if he were the
+murderer or not. To this effect he ordered a play to be prepared,
+to the representation of which he invited the king and queen.
+
+The story of the play was of a murder done in Vienna upon a duke.
+The duke’s name was Gonzago, his wife’s Baptista. The play showed
+how one Lucianus, a near relation to the duke, poisoned him in
+his garden for his estate, and how the murderer in a short time
+after got the love of Gonzago’s wife.
+
+At the representation of this play, the king, who did not know
+the trap which was laid for him, was present, with his queen and
+the whole court; Hamlet sitting attentively near him to observe
+his looks. The play began with a conversation between Gonzago and
+his wife, in which the lady made many protestations of love, and
+of never marrying a second husband if she should outlive Gonzago,
+wishing she might be accursed if she ever took a second husband,
+and adding that no woman did so but those wicked women who kill
+their first husbands. Hamlet observed the king his uncle change
+color at this expression, and that it was as bad as wormwood both
+to him and to the queen. But when Lucianus, according to the
+story, came to poison Gonzago sleeping in the garden, the strong
+resemblance which it bore to his own wicked act upon the late
+king, his brother, whom he had poisoned in his garden, so struck
+upon the conscience of this usurper that he was unable to sit out
+the rest of the play, but on a sudden calling for lights to his
+chamber, and affecting or partly feeling a sudden sickness, he
+abruptly left the theater. The king being departed, the play was
+given over. Now Hamlet had seen enough to be satisfied that the
+words of the ghost were true and no illusion; and in a fit of
+gaiety, like that which comes over a man who suddenly has some
+great doubt or scruple resolved, he swore to Horatio that he
+would take the ghost’s word for a thousand pounds. But before he
+could make up his resolution as to what measures of revenge he
+should take, now he was certainly informed that his uncle was his
+father’s murderer, he was sent for by the queen his mother, to a
+private conference in her closet.
+
+It was by desire of the king that the queen sent for Hamlet,
+that she might signify to her son how much his late behavior
+had displeased them both, and the king, wishing to know all that
+passed at that conference, and thinking that the too partial
+report of a mother might let slip some part of Hamlet’s words,
+which it might much import the king to know, Polonius, the old
+counselor of state, was ordered to plant himself behind the
+hangings in the queen’s closet, where he might, unseen, hear all
+that passed. This artifice was particularly adapted to the
+disposition of Polonius, who was a man grown old in crooked
+maxims and policies of state, and delighted to get at the
+knowledge of matters in an indirect and cunning way.
+
+Hamlet being come to his mother, she began to tax him in the
+roundest way with his actions and behavior, and she told him that
+he had given great offense to HIS FATHER, meaning the king, his
+uncle, whom, because he had married her, she called Hamlet’s
+father. Hamlet, sorely indignant that she should give so dear and
+honored a name as father seemed to him to a wretch who was
+indeed no better than the murderer of his true father, with some
+sharpness replied:
+
+“Mother, YOU have much offended MY FATHER.”
+
+The queen said that was but an idle answer.
+
+“As good as the question deserved,” said Hamlet.
+
+The queen asked him if he had forgotten who it was he was
+speaking to.
+
+“Alas!” replied Hamlet, “I wish I could forget. You are the
+queen, your husband’s brother’s wife; and you are my mother. I
+wish you were not what you are.”
+
+“Nay, then,” said the queen, “if you show me so little respect, I
+will set those to you that can speak,” and was going to send the
+king or Polonius to him.
+
+But Hamlet would not let her go, now he had her alone, till he
+had tried if his words could not bring her to some sense of her
+wicked life; and, taking her by the wrist, he held her fast, and
+made her sit down. She, affrighted at his earnest manner, and
+fearful lest in his lunacy he should do her a mischief, cried
+out; and a voice was heard from behind the hangings, “Help, help’
+the queen!” which Hamlet hearing, and verily thinking that it was
+the king himself there concealed, he drew his sword and stabbed
+at the place where the voice came from, as he would have stabbed
+a rat that ran there, till, the voice ceasing, he concluded the
+person to be dead. But when he dragged forth the body it was not
+the king, but Polonius, the old, officious counselor, that had
+planted himself as a spy behind the hangings.
+
+“Oh, me!” exclaimed the queen, “what a rash and bloody deed have
+you done!”
+
+“A bloody deed, mother,” replied Hamlet, “but not so bad as
+yours, who killed a king, and married his brother.”
+
+Hamlet had gone too far to leave off here. He was now in the
+humor to speak plainly to his mother, and he pursued it. And
+though the faults of parents are to be tenderly treated by their
+children, yet in the case of great crimes the son may have leave
+to speak even to his own mother with some harshness, so as that
+harshness is meant for her good and to turn her from her wicked
+ways, and not done for the purpose of upbraiding. And now this
+virtuous prince did in moving terms represent to the queen the
+heinousness of her offense in being so forgetful of the dead
+king, his father, as in so short a space of time to marry with
+his brother and reputed murderer. Such an act as, after the vows
+which she had sworn to her first husband, was enough to make all
+vows of women suspected and all virtue to be accounted hypocrisy,
+wedding contracts to be less than gamesters’ oaths, and religion
+to be a mockery and a mere form of words. He said she had done
+such a deed that the heavens blushed at it, and the earth was
+sick of her because of it. And he showed her two pictures, the
+one of the late king, her first husband, and the other of the
+present king, her second husband, and he bade her mark the
+difference; what a grace was on the brow of his father, how like
+a god he looked! the curls of Apollo, the forehead of Jupiter,
+the eye of Mars, and a posture like to Mercury newly alighted on
+some heaven-kissing hill! this man, he said, HAD BEEN her
+husband. And then be showed her whom she had got in his stead;
+how like a blight or a mildew he looked, for so he had blasted
+his wholesome brother. And the queen was sore ashamed that he
+should so turn her eyes inward upon her soul, which she now saw
+so black and deformed. And he asked her how she could continue to
+live with this man, and be a wife to him, who had murdered her
+first husband and got the crown by as false means as a thief--and
+just as he spoke the ghost of his father, such as he was in his
+lifetime and such as he had lately seen it, entered the room, and
+Hamlet, in great terror, asked what it would have; and the ghost
+said that it came to remind him of the revenge he had promised,
+which Hamlet seemed to have forgot; and the ghost bade him speak
+to his mother, for the grief and terror she was in would else
+kill her. It then vanished, and was seen by none but Hamlet,
+neither could he by pointing to where it stood, or by any
+description, make his mother perceive it, who was terribly
+frightened all this while to hear him conversing, as it seemed to
+her, with nothing; and she imputed it to the disorder of his
+mind. But Hamlet begged her not to flatter her wicked soul in
+such a manner as to think that it was his madness, and not her
+own offenses, which had brought his father’s spirit again on the
+earth. And he bade her feel his pulse, how temperately it beat,
+not like a madman’s. And he begged of her, with tears, to confess
+herself to Heaven for what was past, and for the future to
+avoid the company of the king and be no more as a wife to him;
+and when she should show herself a mother to him, by respecting
+his father’s memory, he would ask a blessing of her as a son. And
+she promising to observe his directions, the conference ended.
+
+And now Hamlet was at leisure to consider who it was that in his
+unfortunate rashness he had killed; and when he came to see that
+it was Polonius, the father of the Lady Ophelia whom he so dearly
+loved, he drew apart the dead body, and, his spirits being now a
+little quieter, he wept for what he had done.
+
+The unfortunate death of Polonius gave the king a pretense for
+sending Hamlet out of the kingdom. He would willingly have put
+him to death, fearing him as dangerous; but he dreaded the
+people, who loved Hamlet, and the queen, who, with all her
+faults, doted upon the prince, her son. So this subtle king,
+under pretense of providing for Hamlet’s safety, that he might
+not be called to account for Polonius’s death, caused him to be
+conveyed on board a ship bound for England, under the care of two
+courtiers, by whom he despatched letters to the English court,
+which in that time was in subjection and paid tribute to Denmark,
+requiring, for special reasons there pretended, that Hamlet
+should be put to death as soon as he landed on English ground.
+Hamlet, suspecting some treachery, in the nighttime secretly got
+at the letters, and, skilfully erasing his own name, he in the
+stead of it put in the names of those two courtiers, who had the
+charge of him, to be put to death; then sealing up the letters,
+he put them into their place again. Soon after the ship was
+attacked by pirates, and a sea-fight commenced, in the course of
+which Hamlet, desirous to show his valor, with sword in hand
+singly boarded the enemy’s vessel; while his own ship, in a
+cowardly manner, bore away; and leaving him to his fate, the two
+courtiers made the best of their way to England, charged with
+those letters the sense of which Hamlet had altered to their own
+deserved destruction.
+
+The pirates who had the prince in their power showed themselves
+gentle enemies, and, knowing whom they had got prisoner, in the
+hope that the prince might do them a good turn at court in
+recompense for any favor they might show him, they set Hamlet on
+shore at the nearest port in Denmark. From that place Hamlet
+wrote to the king, acquainting him with the strange chance which
+had brought him back to his own country and saying that on the
+next day he should present himself before his Majesty. When he
+got home a sad spectacle offered itself the first thing to his
+eyes.
+
+This was the funeral of the young and beautiful Ophelia, his once
+dear mistress. The wits of this young lady had begun to turn ever
+since her poor father’s death. That he should die a violent
+death, and by the hands of the prince whom she loved, so affected
+this tender young maid that in a little time she grew perfectly
+distracted, and would go about giving flowers away to the ladies
+of the court, and saying that they were for her father’s burial,
+singing songs about love and about death, and sometimes such as
+had no meaning at all, as if she had no memory of what happened
+to her. There was a willow which grew slanting over a brook, and
+reflected its leaves on the stream. To this brook she came one
+day when she was unwatched, with garlands she had been making,
+mixed up of daisies and nettles, flowers and weeds together, and
+clambering up to bang her garland upon the boughs of the willow,
+a bough broke and precipitated this fair young maid, garland, and
+all that she had gathered, into the water, where her clothes bore
+her up for a while, during which she chanted scraps of old tunes,
+like one insensible to her own distress, or as if she were a
+creature natural to that element; but long it was not before her
+garments, heavy with the wet, pulled her in from her melodious
+singing to a muddy and miserable death. It was the funeral of
+this fair maid which her brother Laertes was celebrating, the
+king and queen and whole court being present, when Hamlet
+arrived. He knew not what all this show imported, but stood on
+one side, not inclining to interrupt the ceremony. He saw the
+flowers strewed upon her grave, as the custom was in maiden
+burials, which the queen herself threw in; and as she threw them
+she said:
+
+“Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bride bed,
+sweet maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have
+been my Hamlet’s wife.”
+
+And he heard her brother wish that violets might spring from her
+grave; and he saw him leap into the grave all frantic with grief,
+and bid the attendants pile mountains of earth upon him, that he
+might be buried with her. And Hamlet’s love for this fair maid
+came back to him, and he could not bear that a brother should
+show so much transport of grief, for he thought that he loved
+Ophelia better than forty thousand brothers. Then discovering
+himself, he leaped into the grave where Laertes was, all as
+frantic or more frantic than he, and Laertes, knowing him to be
+Hamlet, who had been the cause of his father’s and his sister’s
+death, grappled him by the throat as an enemy, till the
+attendants parted them; and Hamlet, after the funeral, excused
+his hasty act in throwing himself into the grave as if to brave
+Laertes; but he said he could not bear that any one should seem
+to outgo him in grief for the death of the fair Ophelia. And for
+the time these two noble youths seemed reconciled.
+
+But out of the grief and anger of Laertes for the death of his
+father and Ophelia the king, Hamlet’s wicked uncle, contrived
+destruction for Hamlet. He set on Laertes, under cover of peace
+and reconciliation, to challenge Hamlet to a friendly trial of
+skill at fencing, which Hamlet accepting, a day was appointed to
+try the match. At this match all the court was present, and
+Laertes, by direction of the king, prepared a poisoned weapon.
+Upon this match great wagers were laid by the courtiers, as both
+Hamlet and Laertes were known to excel at this sword play; and
+Hamlet, taking up the foils, chose one, not at all suspecting the
+treachery of Laertes, or being careful to examine Laertes’s
+weapon, who, instead of a foil or blunted sword, which the laws
+of fencing require, made use of one with a point, and poisoned.
+At first Laertes did but play with Hamlet, and suffered him to
+gain some advantages, which the dissembling king magnified and
+extolled beyond measure, drinking to Hamlet’s success and
+wagering rich bets upon the issue. But after a few pauses
+Laertes, growing warm, made a deadly thrust at Hamlet with his
+poisoned weapon, and gave him a mortal blow. Hamlet, incensed,
+but not knowing,the whole of the treachery, in the scuffle
+exchanged his own innocent weapon for Laertes’s deadly one, and
+with a thrust of Laertes’s own sword repaid Laertes home, who was
+thus justly caught in his own treachery. In this instant the
+queen shrieked out that she was poisoned. She had inadvertently
+drunk out of a bowl which the king had prepared for Hamlet, in
+case that, being warm in fencing, he should call for drink; into
+this the treacherous king had infused a deadly poison, to make
+sure of Hamlet, if Laertes had failed. He had forgotten to warn
+the queen of the bowl, which she drank of, and immediately died,
+exclaiming with her last breath that she was poisoned. Hamlet,
+suspecting some treachery, ordered the doors to be shut while he
+sought it out. Laertes told him to seek no farther, for he was
+the traitor; and feeling his life go away with the wound which
+Hamlet had given him, he made confession of the treachery he had
+used and how he had fallen a victim to it: and he told Hamlet of
+the envenomed point, and said that Hamlet had not half an hour to
+live, for no medicine could cure him; and begging forgiveness of
+Hamlet, he died, with his last words accusing the king of being
+the contriver of the mischief. When Hamlet saw his end draw near,
+there being yet some venom left upon the sword, he suddenly
+turned upon his false uncle and thrust the point of it to his
+heart, fulfilling the promise which he had made to his father’s
+spirit, whose injunction was now accomplished and his foul murder
+revenged upon the murderer. Then Hamlet, feeling his breath fail
+and life departing, turned to his dear friend Horatio, who had
+been spectator of this fatal tragedy; and with his dying breath
+requested him that he would live to tell his story to the world
+(for Horatio had made a motion as if he would slay himself to
+accompany the prince in death), and Horatio promised that he
+would make a true report as one that was privy to all the
+circumstances. And, thus satisfied, the noble heart of Hamlet
+cracked; and Horatio and the bystanders with many tears commended
+the spirit of this sweet prince to the guardianship of angels.
+For Hamlet was a loving and a gentle prince and greatly beloved
+for his many noble and princelike qualities; and if he had lived,
+would no doubt have proved a most royal and complete king to
+Denmark.
+
+
+
+
+OTHELLO
+
+
+Brabantio, the rich senator of Venice, had a fair daughter, the
+gentle Desdemona. She was sought to by divers suitors, both on
+account of her many virtuous qualities and for her rich
+expectations. But among the suitors of her own clime and
+complexion she saw none whom she could affect, for this noble
+lady, who regarded the mind more than the features of men, with a
+singularity rather to be admired than imitated had chosen for the
+object of her affections a Moor, a black, whom her father loved
+and often invited to his house.
+
+Neither is Desdemona to be altogether condemned for the
+unsuitableness of the person whom she selected for her lover.
+Bating that Othello was black, the noble Moor wanted nothing
+which might recommend him to the affections of the greatest lady.
+He was a soldier, and a brave one; and by his conduct in bloody
+wars against the Turks had risen to the rank of general in the
+Venetian service, and was esteemed and trusted by the state.
+
+He had been a traveler, and Desdemona (as is the manner of
+ladies) loved to hear him tell the story of his adventures, which
+he would run through from his earliest recollection; the battles,
+sieges, and encounters which he had passed through; the perils he
+had been exposed to by land and by water; his hair-breadth
+escapes, when he had entered a breach or marched up to the mouth
+of a cannon; and how he had been taken prisoner by the insolent
+enemy, and sold to slavery; how he demeaned himself in that
+state, and how he escaped: all these accounts, added to the
+narration of the strange things he had seen in foreign countries,
+the vast wilderness and romantic caverns, the quarries, the rocks
+and mountains whose heads are in the clouds; of the savage
+nations, the cannibals who are man-eaters, and a race of people
+in Africa whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders. These
+travelers’ stories would so enchain the attention of Desdemona
+that if she were called off at any time by household affairs she
+would despatch with all haste that business, and return, and with
+a greedy ear devour Othello’s discourse. And once he took
+advantage of a pliant hour and drew from her a prayer that he
+would tell her the whole story of his life at large, of which she
+had heard so much, but only by parts. To which he consented, and
+beguiled her of many a tear when he spoke of some distressful
+stroke which his youth had suffered.
+
+His story being done, she gave him for his pains a world of
+sighs. She swore a pretty oath that it was all passing strange,
+and pitiful, wondrous pitiful. She wished (she said) she had not
+heard it, yet she wished that Heaven had made her such a man; and
+then she thanked him, and told him, if he had a friend who loved
+her, he had only to teach him how to tell his story and that
+would woo her. Upon this hint, delivered not with more frankness
+than modesty, accompanied with certain bewitching prettiness and
+blushes, which Othello could not but understand, he spoke more
+openly of his love, and in this golden opportunity gained the
+consent of the generous Lady Desdemona privately to marry him.
+
+Neither Othello’s color nor his fortune was such that it could be
+hoped Brabantio would accept him for a son-in-law. He had left
+his daughter free; but he did expect that, as the manner of noble
+Venetian ladies was, she would choose erelong a husband of
+senatorial rank or expectations; but in this he was deceived.
+Desdemona loved the Moor, though he was black, and devoted her
+heart and fortunes to his valiant parts and qualities. So was her
+heart subdued to an implicit devotion to the man she had selected
+for a husband that his very color, which to all but this
+discerning lady would have proved an insurmountable objection,
+was by her esteemed above all the white skins and clear
+complexions of the young Venetian nobility, her suitors.
+
+Their marriage, which, though privately carried, could not long
+be kept a secret, came to the ears of the old man, Brabantio, who
+appeared in a solemn council of the senate as an accuser of the
+Moor Othello, who by spells and witchcraft (he maintained) had
+seduced the affections of the fair Desdemona to marry him,
+without the consent of her father, and against the obligations of
+hospitality.
+
+At this juncture of time it happened that the state of Venice had
+immediate need of the services of Othello, news having arrived
+that the Turks with mighty preparation had fitted out a fleet,
+which was bending its course to the island of Cyprus, with intent
+to regain that strong post from the Venetians, who then held it;
+in this emergency the state turned its eyes upon Othello, who
+alone was deemed adequate to conduct the defense of Cyprus
+against the Turks. So that Othello, now summoned before the
+senate, stood in their presence at once as a candidate for a
+great state employment and as a culprit charged with offenses
+which by the laws of Venice were made capital.
+
+The age and senatorial character of old Brabantio commanded a
+most patient hearing from that grave assembly; but the incensed
+father conducted his accusation with so much intemperance,
+producing likelihoods and allegations for proofs, that, when
+Othello was called upon for his defense, he had only to relate a
+plain tale of the course of his love; which he did with such an
+artless eloquence, recounting the whole story of his wooing as we
+have related it above, and delivered his speech with so noble a
+plainness (the evidence of truth) that the duke, who sat as chief
+judge, could not help confessing that a tale so told would have
+won his daughter, too, and the spells and conjurations which
+Othello had used in his courtship plainly appeared to have been
+no more than the honest arts of men in love, and the only
+witchcraft which he had used the faculty of telling a soft tale
+to win a lady’s ear.
+
+This statement of Othello was confirmed by the testimony of the
+Lady Desdemona herself, who appeared in court and, professing a
+duty to her father for life and education, challenged leave of
+him to profess a yet higher duty to her lord and husband, even so
+much as her mother had shown in preferring him (Brabantio) above
+HER father.
+
+The old senator, unable to maintain his plea, called the Moor to
+him with many expressions of sorrow, and, as an act of necessity,
+bestowed upon him his daughter, whom, if he had been free to
+withhold her (he told him), he would with all his heart have kept
+from him; adding that he was glad at soul that he had no other
+child, for this behavior of Desdemona would have taught him to be
+a tyrant and hang clogs on them for her desertion.
+
+This difficulty being got over, Othello, to whom custom had
+rendered the hardships of a military life as natural as food and
+rest are to other men, readily undertook the management of the
+wars in Cyprus; and Desdemona, preferring the honor of her lord
+(though with danger) before the indulgence of those idle delights
+in which new-married people usually waste their time, cheerfully
+consented to his going.
+
+No sooner were Othello and his lady landed in Cyprus than news
+arrived that a desperate tempest had dispersed the Turkish fleet,
+and thus the island was secure from any immediate apprehension of
+an attack. But the war which Othello was to suffer was now
+beginning; and the enemies which malice stirred up against his
+innocent lady proved in their nature more deadly than strangers
+or infidels.
+
+Among all the general’s friends no one possessed the confidence
+of Othello more entirely than Cassio. Michael Cassio was a young
+soldier, a Florentine, gay, amorous, and of pleasing address,
+favorite qualities with women; he was handsome and eloquent, and
+exactly such a person as might alarm the jealousy of a man
+advanced in years (as Othello in some measure was) who had
+married a young and beautiful wife; but Othello was as free from
+jealousy as he was noble, and as incapable of suspecting as of
+doing a base action. He had employed this Cassio in his love
+affair with Desdemona, and Cassio had been a sort of go-between
+in his suit; for Othello, fearing that himself had not those soft
+parts of conversation which please ladies, and finding these
+qualities in his friend, would often depute Cassio to go (as he
+phrased it) a-courting for him, such innocent simplicity being
+rather an honor than a blemish to the character of the valiant
+Moor. So that no wonder if, next to Othello himself (but at far
+distance, as beseems a virtuous wife), the gentle Desdemona loved
+and trusted Cassio. Nor had the marriage of this couple made any
+difference in their behavior to Michael Cassio. He frequented
+their house, and his free and rattling talk was no unpleasing
+variety to Othello, who was himself of a more serious temper; for
+such tempers are observed often to delight in their contraries,
+as a relief from the oppressive excess of their own; and
+Desdemona and Cassio would talk and laugh together, as in the
+days when he went a-courting for his friend.
+
+Othello had lately promoted Cassio to be the lieutenant, a place
+of trust, and nearest to the general’s person. This promotion
+gave great offense to Iago, an older officer who thought he had a
+better claim than Cassio, and would often ridicule Cassio as a
+fellow fit only for the company of ladies and one that knew no
+more of the art of war or how to set an army in array for battle
+than a girl. Iago hated Cassio, and he hated Othello as well for
+favoring Cassio as for an unjust suspicion, which he had lightly
+taken up against Othello, that the Moor was too fond of Iago’s
+wife Emilia. From these imaginary provocations the plotting mind
+of Iago conceived a horrid scheme of revenge, which should
+involve Cassio, the Moor, and Desdemona in one common ruin.
+
+Iago was artful, and had studied human nature deeply, and he knew
+that of all the torments which afflict the mind of man (and far
+beyond bodily torture) the pains of jealousy were the most
+intolerable and had the sorest sting. If he could succeed in
+making Othello jealous of Cassio he thought it would be an
+exquisite plot of revenge and might end in the death of Cassio or
+Othello, or both; he cared not.
+
+The arrival of the general and his lady in Cyprus, meeting with
+news of the dispersion of the enemy’s fleet, made a sort of
+holiday in the island. Everybody gave himself up to feasting and
+making merry. Wine flowed in abundance, and cups went round to
+the health of the black Othello and his lady the fair Desdemona.
+
+Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge
+from Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that
+no brawl might arise to fright the inhabitants or disgust them
+with the new-landed forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid
+plans of mischief. Under color of loyalty and love to the
+general, he enticed Cassio to make rather too free with the
+bottle (a great fault in an officer upon guard). Cassio for a
+time resisted, but he could not long hold out against the honest
+freedom which Iago knew how to put on, but kept swallowing glass
+after glass (as Iago still plied him with drink and encouraging
+songs), and Cassio’s tongue ran over in praise of the Lady
+Desdemona, whom he again and again toasted, affirming that she
+was a most exquisite lady. Until at last the enemy which he put
+into his mouth stole away his brains; and upon some provocation
+given him by a fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn,
+and Montano, a worthy officer, who interfered to appease the
+dispute, was wounded in the scuffle. The riot now began to be
+general, and Iago, who had set on foot the mischief, was foremost
+in spreading the alarm, causing the castle bell to be rung (as if
+some dangerous mutiny instead of a slight drunken quarrel had
+arisen). The alarm-bell ringing awakened Othello, who, dressing
+in a hurry and coming to the scene of action, questioned Cassio
+of the cause.
+
+Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the wine having a
+little gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and Iago,
+pretending a great reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were,
+forced into it by Othello, who insisted to know the truth, gave
+an account of the whole matter (leaving out his own share in it,
+which Cassio was too far gone to remember) in such a manner as,
+while he seemed to make Cassio’s offense less, did indeed make it
+appear greater than it was. The result was that Othello, who was
+a strict observer of discipline, was compelled to take away
+Cassio’s place of lieutenant from him.
+
+Thus did Iago’s first artifice succeed completely; he had now
+undermined his hated rival and thrust him,out of his place; but a
+further use was hereafter to be made of the adventure of this
+disastrous night.
+
+Cassio, whom this misfortune had entirely sobered, now lamented
+to his seeming friend Iago that he should have been such a fool
+as to transform himself into a beast. He was undone, for how
+could he ask the general for his place again? He would tell him
+he was a drunkard. He despised himself. Iago, affecting to make
+light of it, said that he, or any man living, might be drunk upon
+occasion; it remained now to make the best of a bad bargain. The
+general’s wife was now the general, and could do anything with
+Othello; that he were best to apply to the Lady Desdemona to
+mediate for him with her lord; that she was of a frank, obliging
+disposition and would readily undertake a good office of this
+sort and set Cassio right again in the general’s favor; and then
+this crack in their love would be made stronger than ever. A good
+advice of Iago, if it had not been given for wicked purposes,
+which will after appear.
+
+Cassio did as Iago advised him, and made application to the Lady
+Desdemona, who was easy to be won over in any honest suit; and
+she promised Cassio that she should be his solicitor with her
+lord, and rather die than give up his cause. This she immediately
+set about in so earnest and pretty a manner that Othello, who was
+mortally offended with Cassio, could not put her off. When he
+pleaded delay, and that it was too soon to pardon such an
+offender, she would not be beat back, but insisted that it should
+be the next night, or the morning after, or the next morning to
+that at farthest. Then she showed how penitent and humbled poor
+Cassio was, and that his offense did not deserve so sharp a
+check. And when Othello still hung back:
+
+“What! my lord,” said she, “that I should have so much to do to
+plead for Cassio, Michael Cassio, that came a-courting for you,
+and oftentimes, when I have spoken in dispraise of you has taken
+your part! I count this but a little thing to ask of you. When I
+mean to try your love indeed I shall ask a weighty matter.”
+
+Othello could deny nothing to such a pleader, and only requesting
+that Desdemona would leave the time to him, promised to receive
+Michael Cassio again in favor.
+
+It happened that Othello and Iago had entered into the room where
+Desdemona was, just as Cassio, who had been imploring her
+intercession, was departing at the opposite door; and Iago, who
+was full of art, said in a low voice, as if to himself, “I like
+not that.” Othello took no great notice of what he said; indeed,
+the conference which immediately took place with his lady put it
+out of his head; but he remembered it afterward. For when
+Desdemona was gone, Iago, as if for mere satisfaction of his
+thought, questioned Othello whether Michael Cassio, when Othello
+was courting his lady, knew of his love. To this the general
+answering in the affirmative, and adding, that he had gone
+between them very often during the courtship, Iago knitted his
+brow, as if he had got fresh light on some terrible matter, and
+cried, “Indeed!” This brought into Othello’s mind the words which
+Iago had let fall upon entering the room and seeing Cassio with
+Desdemona; and he began to think there was some meaning in all
+this, for he deemed Iago to be a just man, and full of love and
+honesty, and what in a false knave would be tricks in him seemed
+to be the natural workings of an honest mind, big with something
+too great for utterance. And Othello prayed Iago to speak what he
+knew and to give his worst thoughts words.
+
+“And what,” said Iago, “if some thoughts very vile should have
+intruded into my breast, as where is the palace into which foul
+things do not enter?” Then Iago went on to say, what a pity it
+were if any trouble should arise to Othello out of his imperfect
+observations; that it would not be for Othello’s peace to know
+his thoughts; that people’s good names were not to be taken away
+for slight suspicions; and when Othello’s curiosity was raised
+almost to distraction with these hints and scattered words, Iago,
+as if in earnest care for Othello’s peace of mind, besought him
+to beware of jealousy. With such art did this villain raise
+suspicions in the unguarded Othello, by the very caution which he
+pretended to give him against suspicion.
+
+“I know,” said Othello, “that my wife is fair, loves company and
+feasting, is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; but
+where virtue is, these qualities are virtuous. I must have proof
+before I think her dishonest.”
+
+Then Iago, as if glad that Othello was slow to believe ill of his
+lady, frankly declared that he had no proof, but begged Othello
+to see her behavior well, when Cassio was by; not to be jealous
+nor too secure neither, for that he (Iago) knew the dispositions
+of the Italian ladies, his country-women, better than Othello
+could do; and that in Venice the wives let Heaven see many pranks
+they dared not show their husbands. Then he artfully insinuated
+that Desdemona deceived her father in marrying with Othello, and
+carried it so closely that the poor old man thought that
+witchcraft had been used. Othello was much moved with this
+argument, which brought the matter home to him, for if she had
+deceived her father why might she not deceive her husband?
+
+Iago begged pardon for having moved him; but Othello, assuming an
+indifference, while he was really shaken with inward grief at
+Iago’s words, begged him to go on, which Iago did with many
+apologies, as if unwilling to produce anything against Cassio,
+whom he called his friend. He then came strongly to the point and
+reminded Othello how Desdemona had refused many suitable matches
+of her own clime and complexion, and had married him, a Moor,
+which showed unnatural in her and proved her to have a headstrong
+will; and when her better judgment returned, how probable it was
+she should fall upon comparing Othello with the fine forms and
+clear white complexions of the young Italians her countrymen. He
+concluded with advising Othello to put off his reconcilement with
+Cassio a little longer, and in the mean while to note with what
+earnestness Desdemona should intercede in his behalf; for that
+much would be seen in that. So mischievously did this artful
+villain lay his plots to turn the gentle qualities of this
+innocent lady into her destruction, and make a net for her out of
+her own goodness to entrap her, first setting Cassio on to
+entreat her mediation, and then out of that very mediation
+contriving stratagems for her ruin.
+
+The conference ended with Iago’s begging Othello to account his
+wife innocent until he had more decisive proof; and Othello
+promised to be patient; but from that moment the deceived Othello
+never tasted content of mind. Poppy, nor the juice of mandragora,
+nor all the sleeping potions in the world, could ever again
+restore to him that sweet rest which he had enjoyed but
+yesterday. His occupation sickened upon him. He no longer took
+delight in arms. His heart, that used to be roused at the sight
+of troops and banners and battle array, and would stir and leap
+at the sound of a drum or a trumpet or a neighing war-horse,
+seemed to have lost all that pride and ambition which are a
+soldier’s virtue; and his military ardor and all his old joys
+forsook him. Sometimes he thought his wife honest, and at times
+he thought her not so; sometimes he thought Iago just, and at
+times he thought him not so; then he would wish that he had never
+known of it; he was not the worse for her loving Cassio, so long
+as he knew it not. Torn to pieces with these distracting
+thoughts, he once laid hold on Iago’s throat and demanded proof
+of Desdemona’s guilt, or threatened instant death for his having
+belied her. Iago, feigning indignation that his honesty should be
+taken for a vice, asked Othello if he had not sometimes seen a
+handkerchief spotted with strawberries in his wife’s hand.
+Othello answered that he had given her such a one, and that it
+was his first gift.
+
+“That same handkerchief,” said Iago, “did I see Michael Cassio
+this day wipe his face with.”
+
+“If it be as you say,” said Othello, “I will not rest till a wide
+revenge swallow them up; and first, for a token of your fidelity,
+I expect that Cassio shall be put to death within three days; and
+for that fair devil [meaning his lady] I will withdraw and devise
+some swift means of death for her.”
+
+Trifles light as air are to the jealous proofs as strong as holy
+writ. A handkerchief of his wife’s seen in Cassio’s hand was
+motive enough to the deluded Othello to pass sentence of death
+upon them both, without once inquiring how Cassio came by it.
+Desdemona had never given such a present to Cassio, nor would
+this constant lady have wronged her lord with doing so naughty a
+thing as giving his presents to another man; both Cassio and,
+Desdemona were innocent of any offense against Othello; but the
+wicked Iago, whose spirits never slept in contrivance of
+villainy, had made his wife (a good, but a weak woman) steal this
+handkerchief from Desdemona, under pretense of getting the work
+copied, but in reality to drop it in Cassio’s way, where he might
+find it, and give a handle to Iago’s suggestion that it was
+Desdemona’s present.
+
+Othello, soon after meeting his wife, pretended that he had a
+headache (as he might indeed with truth), and desired her to lend
+him her handkerchief to hold to his temples. She did so.
+
+“Not this,” said Othello, “but that handkerchief I gave you.”
+
+Desdemona had it not about her (for indeed it was stolen, as we
+have related).
+
+“How?” said Othello, “this is a fault indeed. That handkerchief
+an Egyptian woman gave to my mother; the woman was a witch and
+could read people’s thoughts. She told my mother while she kept
+it it would make her amiable and my father would love her; but if
+she lost it or gave it away, my father’s fancy would turn and he
+would loathe her as much as he had loved her. She, dying, gave it
+to me, and bade me, if I ever married, to give it to my wife. I
+did so. Take heed of it. Make it a darling as precious as your
+eye.”
+
+“Is it possible?” said the frighted lady.
+
+“‘Tis true,” continued Othello; “it is a magical handkerchief; a
+sibyl that had lived in the world two hundred years, in a fit of
+prophetic fury worked it; the silkworms that furnished the silk
+were hallowed, and it was dyed in a mummy of maidens’ hearts
+conserved.”
+
+Desdemona, hearing the wondrous virtues of the handkerchief, was
+ready to die with fear, for she plainly perceived she had lost
+it, and with it, she feared, the affections of her husband. Then
+Othello started and looked as if he were going to do some rash
+thing, and still he demanded the handkerchief, which when she
+could not produce, she tried to divert her husband from too
+serious thoughts, and cheerfully told him she saw all his talk
+about the handkerchief was only to put her off from her suit
+about Michael Cassio, whom she went on to praise (as Iago had
+foretold), till Othello in perfect distraction burst out of the
+room, and then Desdemona, though unwillingly, began to suspect
+that her lord was jealous.
+
+What cause she could have ministered to him she knew not, and
+then she accused herself for accusing the noble Othello, and
+thought, to be sure, that some untoward news from Venice or some
+state troubles had puddled his spirits and made his temper not so
+sweet as formerly. And she said, “Men are not gods, and we must
+not look for that observance from them when they are married
+which they show us on the bridal day.” And she beshrewed herself
+for so unkindly judging of his unkindness.
+
+Again Othello and Desdemona met, and he accused her more plainly
+of being unfaithful and of loving another man, but he did not
+name whom. And Othello wept, and Desdemona said, “Alas! the heavy
+day! why do you weep?” And Othello told her he could have borne
+all sorts of evils with fortitude--poverty, and disease, and
+disgrace--but her infidelity had broken his heart. And he called
+her a weed that looked so fair and smelled so sweet that the
+sense ached at it; and wished she had never been born. And when
+he had left her this innocent lady was so stupefied with wonder
+at her lord’s untrue suspicion of her that a weightlike sleep
+came over her, and she only desired her attendant to make her bed
+and to lay her wedding-sheets upon it, saying that when people
+teach their babes they do it by gentle means and easy tasks, and
+Othello might have chid her so; for in good faith she was but a
+child when she was chidden. And this was all the complaint which
+this gentle lady made.
+
+Desdemona being retired to bed, expecting her lord would follow
+her, soon fell into a slumber, the effect of her troubled
+spirits, when Othello entered the chamber, full of the black
+purpose which he had meditated, of putting his lady to death. But
+when he saw her asleep he thought he would not shed her blood,
+nor scar that white skin of hers, more white than alabaster. But
+he was resolved she should die, else (as he said) she would live
+to betray, more men as she had done him. Then he kissed her for
+the last time (as he said), and that kiss was so sweet that he
+must needs kiss her again; and he wept, but he said they were
+cruel tears.
+
+Desdemona was awakened with his kisses, and she looked upon
+Othello, and she saw him gnaw his under lip and roll his eyes,
+and she knew he was always fatal when he looked so; and he bade
+her prepare for death and to say her prayers, for he would not
+kill her soul. And this innocent wife, as she lay at his mercy,
+begged for compassion and to know her fault, and then he named
+Cassio, and the handkerchief which (he said) she had given him;
+and as the guiltless lady was proceeding to clear herself he
+suddenly would hear no more, but, covering her up in the
+bedclothes, stifled her till she died.
+
+In this instant of time was brought into the house Cassio,
+wounded and bleeding, whom Iago had set one of his creatures on
+to assassinate; but the fellow not succeeding in his attempt to
+kill Cassio (whom he wounded, but not mortally), and being him-
+self killed by Iago to prevent discovery, in his pockets were
+found certain letters, which made the guilt of Iago, and the
+innocence of Cassio, clear beyond all doubt; and Cassio now came
+to beg pardon of Othello, and to ask wherein he had offended him,
+that he had employed Iago to murder him.
+
+This discovery was as a thunderstroke to Othello, who now plainly
+saw that he was no better than a murderer, and that his wife
+(poor innocent lady) had been ever faithful to him; the extreme
+anguish of which discovery making life insupportable, he fell
+upon his sword, and throwing himself upon the body of his dear
+injured lady, expired.
+
+These rash acts raised much passion of horror and amazement in
+the bystanders, for Othello had borne a fair reputation, and till
+he was wrought upon by the arts of a villain, which his own noble
+nature never gave him leave to suspect, he was a loving and a
+doting husband. He had loved not wisely, but too well; and his
+manly eyes (when be learned his mistake), though not used to weep
+on every small occasion, dropped tears as fast as the Arabian
+trees their gum. And when he was dead all his former merits and
+his valiant acts were remembered. Nothing now remained for his
+successor but to put the utmost censure of the law in force
+against Iago, who was executed with strict tortures; and to send
+word to the state of Venice of the lamentable death of their
+renowned general.
+
+
+
+
+PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+Pericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his
+dominions, to avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the
+wicked emperor of Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects
+and city of Tyre, in revenge for a discovery which the prince had
+made of a shocking deed which the emperor had done in secret; as
+commonly it proves dangerous to pry into the hidden crimes of
+great ones. Leaving the government of his people in the hands of
+his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail from
+Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who
+was mighty, should be appeased.
+
+The first place which the prince directed his course to was
+Tarsus, and hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time
+suffering under a severe famine, he took with him a store of
+provisions for its relief. On his arrival he found the city
+reduced to the utmost distress; and, he coming like a messenger
+from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the governor of
+Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks. Pericles had not been
+here many days before letters came from his faithful minister,
+warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for
+Antiochus knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched
+for that purpose sought his life. Upon receipt of these letters
+Pericles put out to sea again, amid the blessings and prayers of
+a whole people who had been fed by his bounty.
+
+He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful
+storm, and every man on board perished except Pericles, who was
+cast by the sea waves naked on an unknown shore, where he had not
+wandered long before he met with some poor fishermen, who invited
+him to their homes, giving him clothes and provisions. The
+fishermen told Pericles the name of their country was Pentapolis,
+and that their king was Simonides, commonly called the good
+Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.
+From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young
+daughter, and that the following day was her birthday, when a
+grand tournament was to be held at court, many princes and
+knights being come from all parts to try their skill in arms for
+the love of Thaisa, this fair princess. While the prince was
+listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss of his
+good armor, which disabled him from making one among these
+valiant knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of
+armor that he had taken out of the sea with his fishing-net,
+which proved to be the very armor he had lost. When Pericles
+beheld his own armor he said: “Thanks, Fortune; after all my
+crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This armor was
+bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have so
+loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me,
+and the rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm,
+hath given it back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have
+my father’s gift again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune.”
+
+The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father’s armor, repaired
+to the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at
+the tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and
+valiant princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of
+Thaisa’s love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments
+for the love of kings’ daughters, if one proved sole victor over
+all the rest, it was usual for the great lady for whose sake
+these deeds of valor were undertaken to bestow all her respect
+upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did not depart from this custom,
+for she presently dismissed all the princes and knights whom
+Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her especial
+favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as
+king of that day’s happiness; and Pericles became a most
+passionate lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment
+he beheld her.
+
+The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble
+qualities of Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished
+gentleman and well learned in all excellent arts, that though he
+knew not the rank of this royal stranger (for Pericles for fear
+of Antiochus gave out that he was a private gentleman of Tyre),
+yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the valiant unknown
+for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter’s affections
+were firmly fixed upon him.
+
+Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he
+received intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that
+his subjects of Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened
+to revolt and talked of placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne.
+This news came from Helicanus himself, who, being a loyal subject
+to his royal master, would not accept of the high dignity
+offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their intentions, that
+he might return home and resume his lawful right. It was matter
+of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his
+son-in-law (the obscure knight) was the renowned Prince of Tyre;
+yet again he regretted that he was not the private gentleman he
+supposed him to be, seeing that he must now part both with his
+admired son-in-law and his beloved daughter, whom he feared to
+trust to the perils of the sea, because Thaisa was with child;
+and Pericles himself wished her to remain with her father till
+after her confinement; but the poor lady so earnestly desired to
+go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she would
+reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.
+
+The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long
+before they reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so
+terrified Thaisa that she was taken ill, and in a short space of
+time her nurse, Lychorida, came to Pericles with a little child
+in her arms, to tell the prince the sad tidings that his wife
+died the moment her little babe was born. She held the babe
+toward its father, saying:
+
+“Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of
+your dead queen.”
+
+No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he
+heard his wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said:
+
+“O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then
+snatch those gifts away?”
+
+“Patience, good sir,” said Lychorida, “here is all that is left
+alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child’s
+sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this
+precious charge.”
+
+Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the
+little babe: “Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous
+birth had never babe! May your condition be mild and gentle, for
+you have had the rudest welcome that ever prince’s child did meet
+with! May that which follows be happy, for you have had as
+chiding a nativity as fire, air, water, earth, and heaven could
+make to herald you from the womb! Even at the first, your loss,”
+ meaning in the death of her mother, “is more than all the joys,
+which you shall find upon this earth to which you are come a new
+visitor, shall be able to recompense.”
+
+The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors
+having a superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship
+the storm would never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that
+his queen should be thrown overboard; and they said:
+
+“What courage, sir? God save you!”
+
+“Courage enough,” said the sorrowing prince. “I do not fear the
+storm; it has done to me its worst; yet for the love of this poor
+infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over.”
+
+“Sir,” said the sailors, “your queen must overboard. The sea
+works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till
+the ship be cleared of the dead.”
+
+Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition
+was, yet he patiently submitted, saying: “As you think meet. Then
+she must overboard, most wretched queen!”
+
+And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear
+wife, and as he looked on his Thaisa he said: “A terrible
+childbed hast thou had, my dear; no light, no fire; the
+unfriendly elements forget thee utterly, nor have I time to bring
+thee hallowed to thy grave, but must cast thee scarcely coffined
+into the sea, where for a monument upon thy bones the humming
+waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple shells. O
+Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket
+and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin. Lay
+the babe upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida,
+while I say a priestly farewell to my Thaisa.”
+
+They brought Pericles a large chest, in which (wrapped in a satin
+shroud) he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed
+over her, and beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written
+paper telling who she was and praying if haply any one should
+find the chest which contained the body of his wife they would
+give her burial; and then with his own hands he cast the chest
+into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered the
+sailors to make for Tarsus. “For,” said Pericles, “the babe
+cannot hold out till we come to Tyre. At Tarsus I will leave it
+at careful nursing.”
+
+After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea,
+and while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy
+gentleman of Ephesus and a most skilful physician, was standing
+by the seaside, his servants brought to him a chest, which they
+said the sea waves had thrown on the land.
+
+“I never saw,” said one of them, “so huge a billow as cast it on
+our shore.”
+
+Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and
+when it was opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and
+lovely lady; and the sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of
+jewels made him conclude it was some great person who was thus
+strangely entombed. Searching farther, he discovered a paper,
+from which he learned that the corpse which lay as dead before
+him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre; and
+much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more
+pitying the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said:
+“If you are living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks
+with woe.” Then, observing attentively Thaisa’s face, he saw how
+fresh and unlike death her looks were, and he said, “They were
+too hasty that threw you into the sea”; for he did not believe
+her to be dead. He ordered a fire to be made, and proper cordials
+to be brought, and soft music to be played, which might help to
+calm her amazed spirits if she should revive; and he said to
+those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw, “O, I
+pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she has
+not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow
+into life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this
+fair creature will live to make us weep to hear her fate.”
+
+Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had
+fallen into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her
+to be dead; and now by the care of this kind gentleman she once
+more revived to light and life; and, opening her eyes, she said:
+
+“Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this?”
+
+By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen
+her; and when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the
+sight he showed her the paper written by her husband, and the
+jewels; and she looked on the paper and said:
+
+“It is my lord’s writing. That I was shipped at sea I well
+remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy
+gods I cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never
+shall see again, I will put on a vestal livery and never more
+have joy.”
+
+“Madam,” said Cerimon, “if you purpose as you speak, the temple
+of Diana is not far distant from hence; there you may abide as a
+vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there
+attend you.” This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa;
+and when she was perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the
+temple of Diana, where she became a vestal or priestess of that
+goddess, and passed her days in sorrowing for her husband’s
+supposed loss, and in the most devout exercises of those times.
+
+Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina,
+because she was born at sea) to Tarsus, intending to leave her
+with Cleon, the governor of that city, and his wife Dionysia,
+thinking, for the good he had done to them at the time of their
+famine, they would be kind to his little motherless daughter.
+When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great loss which
+had befallen him he said, “Oh, your sweet queen, that it had
+pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed
+my eyes with the sight of her!”
+
+Pericles replied: “We must obey the powers above us. Should I
+rage and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end
+must be as it is. My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your
+charity with her. I leave her the infant of your care, beseeching
+you to give her princely training.” And then turning to Cleon’s
+wife, Dionysia, he said, “Good madam, make me blessed in your
+tare in bringing up my child.”
+
+And she answered, “I have a child myself who shall not be more
+dear to my respect than yours, my lord.”
+
+And Cleon made the like promise, saying: “Your noble services,
+Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn (for
+which in their prayers they daily remember you) must in your
+child be thought on. If I should neglect your child, my whole
+people that were by you relieved would force me to my duty; but
+if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge it on me and mine to
+the end of generation.”
+
+Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully
+attended to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife
+Dionysia, and with her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went
+away the little Marina knew not her loss, but Lychorida wept
+sadly at parting with her royal master.
+
+“Oh, no tears, Lychorida,” said Pericles; “no tears; look to your
+little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter.”
+
+Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in
+the quiet possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom
+he thought dead, remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina,
+whom this hapless mother had never seen, was brought up by Cleon
+in a manner suitable to her high birth. He gave her the most
+careful education, so that by the time Marina attained the age of
+fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not more studied
+in the learning of those times than was Marina. She sang like one
+immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was
+so skilful that she seemed to compose nature’s own shapes in
+birds, fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more
+like to each other than they were to Marina’s silken flowers. But
+when she had gained from education all these graces which made
+her the general wonder, Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her
+mortal enemy from jealousy, by reason that her own daughter, from
+the slowness of her mind, was not able to attain to that
+perfection wherein Marina excelled; and finding that all praise
+was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same
+age and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though
+not with the same success, was in comparison disregarded, she
+formed a project to remove Marina out of the way, vainly
+imagining that her untoward daughter would be more respected when
+Marina was no more seen. To encompass this she employed a man to
+murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design, when
+Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died. Dionysia was
+discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder
+when the young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida.
+Leonine, the man she employed to do this bad deed, though he was
+a very wicked man, could hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so
+had Marina won all hearts to love her. He said:
+
+“She is a goodly creature!”
+
+“The fitter then the gods should have her,” replied her merciless
+enemy. “Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse
+Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me?”
+
+Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied, “I am resolved.” And
+so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed
+to an untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of
+flowers in her hand, which she said she would daily strew over
+the grave of good Lychorida. The purple violet and the marigold
+should as a carpet hang upon her grave, while summer days did
+last.
+
+“Alas for met” she said, “poor unhappy maid, born in a tempest,
+when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+hurrying me from my friends.”
+
+“How now, Marina,” said the dissembling Dionysia, “do you weep
+alone? How does it chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+sorrow for Lychorida; you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is
+quite changed with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your
+flowers--the sea air will spoil them--and walk with Leonine; the
+air is fine, and will enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the
+arm and walk with her.”
+
+“No, madam,” said Marina, “I pray you let me not deprive you of
+your servant”; for Leonine was one of Dionysia’s attendants.
+
+“Come, come,” said this artful woman, who wished for a pretense
+to leave her alone with Leonine, “I love the prince, your father,
+and I love you. We every day expect your father here; and when he
+comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of
+beauty we reported you, he will think we have taken no care of
+you. Go, I pray you, walk, and be cheerful once again. Be careful
+of that excellent complexion which stole the hearts of old and
+young.”
+
+Marina, being thus importuned, said, “Well, I will go, but yet I
+have no desire to it.”
+
+As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine, “Remember what I
+have said!” shocking words, for their meaning was that he should
+remember to kill Marina.
+
+Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said, “Is the
+wind westerly that blows?”
+
+“Southwest,” replied Leonine.
+
+“When I was born the wind was north,” said she; and then the
+storm and tempest and all her father’s sorrows, and her mother’s
+death, came full into her mind, and she said, “My father, as
+Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD
+SEAMEN, to the sailors, galling his princely hands with the
+ropes, and, clasping to the masts, he endured a sea that almost
+split the deck.”
+
+“When was this?” said Leonine.
+
+“When I was born,” replied Marina. “Never were wind and waves
+more violent.” And then she described the storm, the action of
+the sailors, the boatswain’s whistle, and the loud call of the
+master, which,” said she, “trebled the confusion of the ship.”
+
+Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her
+hapless birth that these things seemed ever present to her
+imagination. But here Leonine interrupted her with desiring her
+to say her prayers. “What mean you?” said Marina, who began to
+fear, she knew not why.
+
+“If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it,” said
+Leonine; “but be not tedious; the gods are quick of ear and I am
+sworn to do my work in haste.”
+
+“Will you kill me?” said Marina. “Alas! why?”
+
+“To satisfy my lady,” replied Leonine.
+
+“Why would she have me killed?” said Marina. “Now, as I can
+remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word
+nor did any ill turn to any living creature. Believe me now, I
+never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod upon a worm once
+against my will, but I wept for it. How have I offended?”
+
+The murderer replied, “My commission is not to reason on the
+deed, but to do it.” And he was just going to kill her when
+certain pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing
+Marina, bore her off as a prize to their ship.
+
+The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene
+and sold her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition,
+Marina soon became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene
+for her beauty and her virtues, and the person to whom she was
+sold became rich by the money she earned for him. She taught
+music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the money she got by
+her scholars she gave to her master and mistress; and the fame of
+her learning and her great industry came to the knowledge of
+Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and
+Lysimachus went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see
+this paragon of excellence whom all the city praised so highly.
+Her conversation delighted Lysimachus beyond measure, for,
+though he had heard much of this admired maiden, he did not
+expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and so good,
+as he perceived Marina to be; and he left her, saying he hoped
+she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and
+that if ever she heard from him again it should be for her good.
+Lysimachus thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine
+breeding, and excellent qualities, as well as for beauty and all
+outward graces, that he wished to marry her, and, notwithstanding
+her humble situation, he hoped to find that her birth was noble;
+but whenever when they asked her parentage she would sit still
+and weep.
+
+Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told
+her he had killed Marina; and that wicked woman gave out that she
+was dead, and made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a
+stately monument; and shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his
+loyal minister Helicanus, made a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on
+purpose to see his daughter, intending to take her home with him.
+And he never having beheld her since he left her an infant in the
+care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince rejoice at
+the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen! But
+when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they
+had erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched
+father endured, and, not being able to bear the sight of that
+country where his last hope and only memory of his dear Thaisa
+was entombed, he took ship and hastily departed from Tarsus. From
+the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy melancholy seized
+him. He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to everything
+around him.
+
+Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by
+Mitylene, where Marina dwelt; the governor of which place,
+Lysimachus, observing this royal vessel from the shore, and
+desirous of knowing who was on board, went in a barge to the side
+of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity. Helicanus received him
+very courteously and told him that the ship came from Tyre, and
+that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince. “A man
+sir,” said Helicanus, “who has not spoken to any one these three
+months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his grief;
+it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper,
+but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a
+wife.”
+
+Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he
+beheld Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he
+said to him: “Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you! Hail,
+royal sir!”
+
+But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor
+did he appear to perceive any stranger approached. And then
+Lysimachus bethought him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply
+with her sweet tongue she might win some answer from the silent
+prince; and with the consent of Helicanus he sent for Marina, and
+when she entered the ship in which her own father sat motionless
+with grief, they welcomed her on board as if they had known she
+was their princess; and they cried:
+
+“She is a gallant lady.”
+
+Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he
+said:
+
+“She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble
+birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed
+in a wife.” And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the
+lowly seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find
+her, calling her FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL MARINA, telling her a great
+prince on board that ship had fallen into a sad and mournful
+silence; and, as if Marina had the power of conferring health
+and felicity, he begged she would undertake to cure the royal
+stranger of his melancholy.
+
+“Sir,” said Marina, “I will use my utmost skill in his recovery,
+provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him.”
+
+She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth,
+ashamed to tell that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first
+began to speak to Pericles of the wayward changes in her own
+fate, telling him from what a high estate herself had fallen. As
+if she had known it was her royal father she stood before, all
+the words she spoke were of her own sorrows; but her reason for
+so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the attention of the
+unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to match their
+own. The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince; he
+lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless;
+and Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to
+his amazed sight the features of his dead queen. The long silent
+prince was once more heard to speak.
+
+“My dearest wife,” said the awakened Pericles, “was like this
+maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen’s
+square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as
+silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like. Where do you live, young
+maid? Report your parentage. I think you said you had been tossed
+from wrong to injury, and that you thought your griefs would
+equal mine, if both were opened.”
+
+“Some such thing I said,” replied Marina, “and said no more than
+what my thoughts did warrant me as likely.”
+
+“Tell me your story,” answered Pericles. “If I find you have
+known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your
+sorrows like a man and I have suffered like a girl; yet you do
+look like Patience gazing on kings’ graves and smiling extremely
+out of act. How lost you your name, my most kind virgin? Recount
+your story, I beseech you. Come, sit by me.”
+
+How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for
+he knew it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself
+for his own child to signify SEA-BORN.
+
+“Oh, I am mocked,” said he, “and you are sent hither by some
+incensed god to make the world laugh at me.”
+
+“Patience, good sir,” said Marina, “or I must cease here.”
+
+“Na@,” said Pericles, “I will be patient. You little know how you
+do startle me, to call yourself Marina.”
+
+“The name,” she replied, “was given me by one that had some
+power, my father and a king.”
+
+“How, a king’s daughter!” said Pericles, “and called Marina! But
+are you flesh and blood? Are you no fairy? Speak on. Where were
+you born, and wherefore called Marina?”
+
+She replied: “I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My
+mother was the daughter of a king; she died the minute I was
+born, as my good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping. The
+king, my father, left me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon
+sought to murder me. A crew of pirates came and rescued me and
+brought me here to Mitylene. But, good sir, why do you weep? It
+may be you think me an impostor. But indeed, sir, I am the
+daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living.”
+
+Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and
+doubtful if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants,
+who rejoiced at the sound of their beloved king’s voice; and he
+said to Helicanus:
+
+“O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain,
+lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores
+of my mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea,
+buried at Tarsus, and found at sea again. O Helicanus, down on
+your knees, thank the holy gods! This is Marina. Now blessings on
+thee, my child! Give me fresh garments, mine own Helicanus! She
+is not dead at Tarsus as she should have been by the savage
+Dionysia. She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel to her and
+call her your very Princess. Who is this?” (observing Lysimachus
+for the first time).
+
+“Sir,” said Helicanus, “it is the governor of Mitylene, who,
+hearing of your melancholy, came to see you.”
+
+“I embrace you, sir,” said Pericles. “Give me my robes! I am well
+with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl! But hark, what music is
+that?”--for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own
+delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
+
+“My lord, I hear none,” replied Helicanus.
+
+“None?” said Pericles. “Why, it is the music of the spheres.”
+
+As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the
+sudden joy had unsettled the prince’s understanding, and he said,
+“It is not good to cross him; let him have his way.” And then
+they told him they heard the music; and he now complaining of a
+drowsy slumber coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest
+on a couch, and, placing a pillow under his head, he, quite
+overpowered with excess of joy, sank into a sound sleep, and
+Marina watched in silence by the couch of her sleeping parent.
+
+While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve
+to go to Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the
+Ephesians, appeared to him and commanded him to go to her temple
+at Ephesus, and there before her altar to declare the story of
+his life and misfortunes; and by her silver bow she swore that if
+he performed her injunction he should meet with some rare
+felicity. When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he told
+his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the
+goddess.
+
+Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh
+himself with such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene,
+which courteous offer Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with
+him for the space of a day or two. During which time we may well
+suppose what feastings, what rejoicings, what costly shows and
+entertainments the governor made in Mitylene to greet the royal
+father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure fortunes he had so
+respected. Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus’s suit, when he
+understood how he had honored his child in the days of her low
+estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his
+proposals; only he made it a condition, before he gave his
+consent, that they should visit with him the shrine of the
+Ephesian Diana; to whose temple they shortly after all three
+undertook a voyage; and, the goddess herself filling their sails
+with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived in safety
+at Ephesus.
+
+There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles
+with his train entered the temple, the good Cerimon (now grown
+very aged), who had restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to
+life; and Thaisa, now a priestess of the temple, was standing
+before the altar; and though the many years he had passed in
+sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles, Thaisa thought she
+knew her husband’s features, and when he approached the altar and
+began to speak, she remembered his voice, and listened to his
+words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were the
+words that Pericles spoke before the altar:
+
+“Hail, Diana! to perform thy just commands I here confess myself
+the Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis
+wedded the fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought
+forth a maid-child called Marina. She at Tarsus was nursed with
+Dionysia, who at fourteen years thought to kill her, but her
+better stars brought her to Mitylene, by whose shores as I sailed
+her good fortunes brought this maid on board, where by her most
+clear remembrance she made herself known to be my daughter.”
+
+Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised
+in her, cried out, “You are, you are, O royal Pericles” and
+fainted.
+
+“What means this woman?” said Pericles. “She dies! Gentlemen,
+help.”
+
+“Sir,” said Cerimon, “if you have told Diana’s altar true, this
+is your wife.”
+
+“Reverend gentleman, no,” said Pericles. “I threw her overboard
+with these very arms.”
+
+Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this
+lady was thrown upon the Ephesian shore; how, opening the coffin,
+he found therein rich jewels and a paper; how, happily, he
+recovered her and placed her here in Diana’s temple.
+
+And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said: “O my lord,
+are you not Pericles? Like him you speak, like him you are. Did
+you not name a tempest, a birth, and death?”
+
+He, astonished, said, “The voice of dead Thaisa!”
+
+“That Thaisa am I,” she replied, “supposed dead and drowned.”
+
+“O true Diana!” exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout
+astonishment.
+
+“And now,” said Thaisa, “I know you better. Such a ring as I see
+on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears
+parted from him at Pentapolis.”
+
+“Enough, you gods!” cried Pericles. “Your present kindness makes
+my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a second time
+within these arms.”
+
+And Marina said, “My heart leaps to be gone into my mother’s
+bosom.”
+
+Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying, “Look
+who kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and
+called Marina because she was yielded there.”
+
+“Blessed and my own!” said Thaisa. And while she hung in
+rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar,
+saying:
+
+“Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer
+oblations nightly to thee.”
+
+And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa,
+solemnly affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the
+well-deserving Lysimachus in marriage.
+
+Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous
+example of virtue assailed by calamity (through the sufferance of
+Heaven, to teach patience and constancy to men), under the same
+guidance becoming finally successful and triumphing over chance
+and change. In Helicanus we have beheld a notable pattern of
+truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he might have succeeded
+to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful owner to his
+possession than to become great by another’s wrong. In the worthy
+Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how
+goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon
+mankind approaches to the nature of the gods. It only remains to
+be told that Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end
+proportionable to her deserts. The inhabitants of Tarsus, when
+her cruel attempt upon Marina was known, rising in a body to
+revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and setting fire to the
+palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their whole
+household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder,
+though but intentional and never carried into act, should be
+punished in a way befitting its enormity.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1286 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales From Shakespeare, by Charles Lamb and Mary Lamb</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1286 ***</div>
+
+<h1>TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">By Charles And Mary Lamb</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap00">PREFACE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">THE TEMPEST</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">A MIDSUMMER NIGHT&rsquo;S DREAM</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">THE WINTER&rsquo;S TALE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap05">AS YOU LIKE IT</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap06">THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap07">THE MERCHANT OF VENICE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap08">CYMBELINE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap09">KING LEAR</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap10">MACBETH</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap11">ALL&rsquo;S WELL THAT ENDS WELL</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap12">TAMING OF THE SHREW</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap13">THE COMEDY OF ERRORS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap14">MEASURE FOR MEASURE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap15">TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap16">TIMON OF ATHENS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap17">ROMEO AND JULIET</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap18">HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap19">OTHELLO</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap20">PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap00"></a>PREFACE</h2>
+    <p>
+      The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader as an
+      introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose his words are
+      used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in; and in whatever has
+      been added to give them the regular form of a connected story, diligent
+      care has been taken to select such words as might least interrupt the
+      effect of the beautiful English tongue in which he wrote: therefore, words
+      introduced into our language since his time have been as far as possible
+      avoided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the young readers
+      will perceive, when they come to see the source from which these stories
+      are derived, that Shakespeare&rsquo;s own words, with little alteration,
+      recur very frequently in the narrative as well as in the dialogue; but in
+      those made from the Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever
+      able to turn his words into the narrative form: therefore it is feared
+      that, in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young
+      people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this fault, if
+      it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to give as much of
+      Shakespeare&rsquo;s own words as possible: and if the &ldquo;He said&rdquo;
+      and &ldquo;She said,&rdquo; the question and the reply, should sometimes
+      seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it, because it was the
+      only way in which could be given to them a few hints and little foretastes
+      of the great pleasure which awaits them in their elder years, when they
+      come to the rich treasures from which these small and valueless coins are
+      extracted; pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps
+      of Shakespeare&rsquo;s matchless image. Faint and imperfect images they
+      must be called, because the beauty of his language is too frequently
+      destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his excellent words into
+      words far less expressive of his true sense, to make it read something
+      like prose; and even in some few places, where his blank verse is given
+      unaltered, as hoping from its simple plainness to cheat the young readers
+      into the belief that they are reading prose, yet still his language being
+      transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it must
+      want much of its native beauty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very young
+      children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have constantly kept
+      this in mind; but the subjects of most of them made this a very difficult
+      task. It was no easy matter to give the histories of men and women in
+      terms familiar to the apprehension of a very young mind. For young ladies,
+      too, it has been the intention chiefly to write; because boys being
+      generally permitted the use of their fathers&rsquo; libraries at a much
+      earlier age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of
+      Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look into this
+      manly book; and, therefore, instead of recommending these Tales to the
+      perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them so much better in the
+      originals, their kind assistance is rather requested in explaining to
+      their sisters such parts as are hardest for them to understand: and when
+      they have helped them to get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will
+      read to them (carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister&rsquo;s
+      ear) some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in the
+      very words of the scene from which it is taken; and it is hoped they will
+      find that the beautiful extracts, the select passages, they may choose to
+      give their sisters in this way will be much better relished and understood
+      from their having some notion of the general story from one of these
+      imperfect abridgments;&mdash;which if they be fortunately so done as to
+      prove delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse
+      effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little older, that
+      they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length (such a wish will be
+      neither peevish nor irrational). When time and leave of judicious friends
+      shall put them into their hands, they will discover in such of them as are
+      here abridged (not to mention almost as many more, which are left
+      untouched) many surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their
+      infinite variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a
+      world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women, the humor
+      of which it was feared would be lost if it were attempted to reduce the
+      length of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and much more
+      it is the writers&rsquo; wish that the true Plays of Shakespeare may prove
+      to them in older years&mdash;enrichers of the fancy, strengtheners of
+      virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of
+      all sweet and honorable thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity,
+      generosity, humanity: for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages
+      are full.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>THE TEMPEST</h2>
+    <p>
+      There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were
+      an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, a very
+      beautiful young lady. She came to this island so young that she had no
+      memory of having seen any other human face than her father&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided into
+      several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study; there he kept
+      his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study at that time much
+      affected by all learned men: and the knowledge of this art he found very
+      useful to him; for being thrown by a strange chance upon this island,
+      which had been enchanted by a witch called Sycorax, who died there a short
+      time before his arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released many
+      good spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large trees,
+      because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These gentle
+      spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero. Of these Ariel
+      was the chief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his nature,
+      except that he took rather too much pleasure in tormenting an ugly monster
+      called Caliban, for be owed him a grudge because he was the son of his old
+      enemy Sycorax. This Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a strange
+      misshapen thing, far less human in form than an ape: he took him home to
+      his cell, and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have been very kind
+      to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from his mother,
+      Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful: therefore he was
+      employed like a slave, to fetch wood and do the most laborious offices;
+      and Ariel had the charge of compelling him to these services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was invisible to
+      all eyes but Prospero&rsquo;s) would come slyly and pinch him, and
+      sometimes tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel, in the likeness of
+      an ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly changing his shape, in the
+      likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie tumbling in Caliban&rsquo;s way, who
+      feared the hedgehog&rsquo;s sharp quills would prick his bare feet. With a
+      variety of such-like vexatious tricks Ariel would often torment him,
+      whenever Caliban neglected the work which Prospero commanded him to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero could by
+      their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea. By his orders
+      they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which, and struggling with
+      the wild sea-waves that every moment,threatened to swallow it up, he
+      showed his daughter a fine large ship, which he told her was full of
+      living beings like themselves. &ldquo;O my dear father,&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;if by your art you have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on
+      their sad distress. See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls!
+      they will all perish. If I had power I would sink the sea beneath the
+      earth, rather than the good ship should be destroyed, with all the
+      precious souls within her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be not amazed, daughter Miranda,&rdquo; said Prospero; &ldquo;there.
+      is no harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall
+      receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my dear child.
+      You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from, and you know no more
+      of me, but that I am your father and live in this poor cave. Can you
+      remember a time before you came to this cell? I think you cannot, for you
+      were not then three years of age.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I can, sir,&rdquo; replied Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By what?&rdquo; asked Prospero; &ldquo;by any other house or
+      person? Tell me what you can remember, my child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda said: &ldquo;It seems to me like the recollection of a dream. But
+      had I not once four or five women who attended upon me?&rdquo; Prospero
+      answered: &ldquo;You had, and more. How is it that this still lives in
+      your mind? Do you remember how you came here?&rdquo; &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo;
+      said Miranda, &ldquo;I remember nothing more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twelve years ago, Miranda,&rdquo; continued Prospero, &ldquo;I was
+      Duke of Milan, and you were a princess, and my only heir. had a younger
+      brother, whose name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything; and as I
+      was fond of retirement and deep study I commonly left the management of my
+      state affairs to your uncle, my false brother (for so indeed he proved).
+      1, neglecting all worldly ends, buried among my books, did dedicate whole
+      time to the bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio, being thus in
+      possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed. The
+      opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my subjects
+      awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive me of my dukedom;
+      this he soon effected with the aid of the King of Naples, a powerful
+      prince, who was my enemy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wherefore,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;did they not that hour
+      destroy us?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My child,&rdquo; answered her father, &ldquo;they durst not, so
+      dear was the love that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a
+      ship, and when we were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a small
+      boat, without either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left us, as he
+      thought, to perish. But a kind lord of my court, one Gonzalo, who loved
+      me, had privately placed in the boat water, provisions, apparel, and some
+      books which I prize above my dukedom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my father,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;what a trouble must I have
+      been to you then!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my love,&rdquo;&rsquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;you were a little
+      cherub that did preserve me.Your innocent smiles made me bear up against
+      my misfortunes. Our food lasted till we landed on this desert island,
+      since when my chief delight has been in teaching you, Miranda, and well
+      have you profited by my instructions.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven thank you, my dear father,&rdquo; said Miranda. &ldquo;Now
+      pray tell me, sir, your reason for raising this sea-storm?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Know then,&rdquo; said her father, &ldquo;"that by means of this
+      storm, my enemies, the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast
+      ashore upon this island.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his magic wand,
+      and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just then presented himself
+      before his master., to give an account of the tempest, and how he had
+      disposed of the ship&rsquo;s company, and though the spirits were always
+      invisible to Miranda, Prospero did not choose she should hear him holding
+      converse (as would seem to her) with the empty air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my brave spirit,&rdquo; said Prospero to Ariel, &ldquo;how
+      have you performed your task?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors of the
+      mariners, and how the king&rsquo;s son, Ferdinand, was the first who
+      leaped into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear son swallowed
+      up by the waves and lost. &ldquo;But he is safe,&rdquo; said Ariel,
+      &ldquo;in a corner of the isle, sitting with his arms folded, sadly
+      lamenting the loss of the king, his father, whom he concludes drowned. Not
+      a hair of his head is injured, and his princely garments, though drenched
+      in the sea-waves, look fresher than before.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s my delicate Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;Bring
+      him hither: my daughter must see this young prince. Where is the king, and
+      my brother?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I left them,&rdquo; answered Ariel, &ldquo;searching for Ferdinand,
+      whom they have little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish. Of
+      the ship&rsquo;s crew not one is missing; though each one thinks himself
+      the only one saved; and the ship, though invisible to them, is safe in the
+      harbor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;thy charge is faithfully
+      performed; but there is more work yet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there more work?&rdquo; said Ariel. &ldquo;Let me remind you,
+      master, you have promised me my liberty. I pray, remember, , I have done
+      you worthy service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you without
+      grudge or grumbling.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now!&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;You do not recollect what a
+      torment I freed you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who
+      with age and envy was almost bent double? Where was she born? Speak; tell
+      me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, in Algiers,&rdquo; said Ariel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, was she so?&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;I must recount what
+      you have been, which I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax,
+      for her witchcrafts, too terrible to enter human hearing, was banished
+      from Algiers, and here left by the sailors-; and because you were a spirit
+      too delicate to execute her wicked commands, she shut you up in a tree,
+      where I found you howling. This torment, remember, I did free you from.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, dear master,&rdquo; said Ariel, ashamed to seem
+      ungrateful; &ldquo;I will obey your commands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do so,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;and I will set you free.&rdquo;
+      He then gave orders what further he would have him do; and away went
+      Ariel, first to where he had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting
+      on the grass in the same melancholy posture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my young gentleman,&rdquo; said Ariel, when he saw him, &lsquo;I
+      will soon move you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda to
+      have a sight of your pretty person. Come. sir,, follow me.&rdquo; He then
+      began singing:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Full fathom five thy father lies;
+      Of his bones are coral made;
+  Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+      Nothing of him that doth fade,
+  But doth suffer a sea-change
+  Into something rich and strange.
+  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
+  Hark! now I hear them&mdash;Ding-dong, bell.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from the
+      stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement the sound of
+      Ariel&rsquo;s voice, till it led him to Prospero and Miranda, who were
+      sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now Miranda had never seen a man
+      before, except her own father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miranda,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;tell me what you are looking
+      at yonder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, father,&rdquo; said Miranda, in a strange surprise, &ldquo;surely
+      that is a spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a
+      beautiful creature. Is it not a spirit?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, girl,&rdquo; answered her father; &ldquo;it eats, and sleeps,
+      and has senses such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship. He
+      is somewhat altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome person. He
+      has lost his companions, and is wandering about to find them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like her
+      father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful young prince;
+      and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this desert place, and from
+      the strange sounds he had heard, expecting nothing but wonders, thought be
+      was upon an enchanted island, and that Miranda was the goddess of the
+      place, and as such he began to address her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid and was going
+      to give him an account of herself, when Prospero interrupted her. He was
+      well pleased to find they admired each other, for he plainly perceived
+      they had (as we say) fallen in love at first sight: but to try Ferdinand&rsquo;s
+      constancy, he resolved to throw some difficulties in their way: therefore,
+      advancing forward, be addressed the prince with a stern air, telling him,
+      he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him who was the lord of
+      it. &ldquo;Follow me,&rdquo; said be. &ldquo;I will tie your neck and feet
+      together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish, withered roots, and husks
+      of acorns shall be your food.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Ferdinand, &ldquo;I will resist such entertainment
+      till I see a more powerful enemy,&rdquo; and drew his sword; but Prospero,
+      waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where he stood, so that he
+      had no power to move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda hung upon her father, saying: &ldquo;Why are you so ungentle? Have
+      pity, I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever saw, and to me
+      he seems a true one.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; said the father. &ldquo;One word more will make me
+      chide you, girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are no
+      more such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell you, foolish
+      girl, most men as far excel this as he does Calliban.&rdquo; This he said
+      to prove his daughter&rsquo;s constancy; and she replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My affections are most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier
+      man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on, young man,&rdquo; said Prospero to the prince; &ldquo;you
+      have no power to disobey -me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not indeed,&rdquo; answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that
+      it was by magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was
+      astonished to kind himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero:
+      looking back on Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went
+      after Prospero into the cave: &ldquo;My spirits are all bound up as if I
+      were in a dream; but this man&rsquo;s threats, and the weakness which I
+      feel, would seem light to me if from my prison I might once a day behold
+      this fair maid.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell: he soon brought
+      out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking care to let
+      his daughter know the hard labour he had imposed on him, and then
+      pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood. Kings&rsquo;
+      sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after found her
+      lover almost dying with fatigue. &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;do
+      not work so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three
+      hours; pray rest yourself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my dear lady,&rdquo; said Ferdinand, &ldquo;I dare not. I must
+      finish my task before I take my rest.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will sit down,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;I will carry your
+      logs the while.&rdquo; But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to.
+      Instead of a help Miranda became a hindrance, for they began a long
+      conversation, so that the business of log-carrying went on very slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his
+      love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing by
+      them invisible, to overhear what they said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ferdinand inquired her name, which she told, saying it was against her
+      father&rsquo;s express command she did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero only smiled at this first instance of his daughter&rsquo;s
+      disobedience, for having by his magic art caused his daughter to fall in
+      love so suddenly, he was not angry that she showed her love by forgetting
+      to obey his commands. And he listened well pleased to a long speech of
+      Ferdinand&rsquo;s, in which he professed to love her above all the ladies
+      he ever saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In answer to his praises of her beauty, which he said exceeded all the
+      women in the world, she replied: &ldquo;I do not remember the face of any
+      woman, nor have I seen any more men than you, my good friend, and my dear
+      father. How features are abroad, I know not: but, believe me, sir, I would
+      not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can my imagination form
+      any shape but yours that I could like. But, sir, I fear I talk to you too
+      freely, and my father&rsquo;s precepts I forget.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this Prospero smiled, and nodded his head, as much as to say: &ldquo;This
+      goes on exactly as I could wish; my girl will be queen of Naples.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Ferdinand, in another fine long speech (for young princes speak
+      in courtly phrases), told the innocent Miranda he was heir to the crown of
+      Naples, and that she should be his queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! sir,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I am a fool to weep at what I am
+      glad of. I will answer you in plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if
+      you will marry me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero prevented Ferdinand&rsquo;s thanks by appearing visible before
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fear nothing, my child,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;I have overheard,
+      and approve of all you have said. And, Ferdinand, if I have too severely
+      used you, I will make you rich amends, by giving you my daughter. All your
+      vexations were but trials of your love, and you have nobly stood the test.
+      Then as my gift, which your true love has worthily purchased, take my
+      daughter, and do not smile that I boast she is above all praise.&rdquo; He
+      then, telling them that he had business which required his presence,
+      desired they would sit down and talk together till he returned; and this
+      command Miranda seemed not at all disposed to disobey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Prospero left them, he called his spirit Ariel, who quickly appeared
+      before him, eager to relate what he had done with Prospero&rsquo;s brother
+      and the king of Naples. Ariel said he had left them almost out of their
+      senses with fear, at the strange things he had caused them to see and
+      hear. When fatigued with wandering about, and famished for want of food,
+      he had suddenly set before them a delicious banquet, and then, just
+      as,they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the shape of
+      a harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast vanished away.
+      Then, to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy spoke to them,
+      reminding them of their cruelty in driving Prospero from his dukedom, and
+      leaving him and his infant daughter to perish in the sea, saying, that for
+      this cause these terrors were suffered to afflict them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of Naples, and Antonio the false brother, repented the injustice
+      they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he was certain their
+      penitence was sincere, and that he, though a spirit, could not but pity
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then bring them hither, Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero: &ldquo;if you,
+      who are but a spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a human
+      being like themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them quickly, my
+      dainty Ariel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ariel soon returned with the king, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in their
+      train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he played in the
+      air to draw them on to his master&rsquo;s presence. This Gonzalo was the
+      same who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly with books and
+      provisions, when his wicked brother left him, as he thought, to perish in
+      an open boat in the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses that they did not know
+      Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old Gonzalo, calling him
+      the preserver of his life; and then his brother and the king knew that he
+      was the injured Prospero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio, with tears and sad words of sorrow and true repentance, implored
+      his brother&rsquo;s forgiveness, and the king expressed his sincere
+      remorse for having assisted Antonio to depose his brother: and Prospero
+      forgave them; and, upon their engaging to restore his dukedom, he said to
+      the King of Naples, &ldquo;I have a gift in store for you, too&rdquo;;
+      and, opening a door, showed him his son Ferdinand playing at chess with
+      Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this unexpected
+      meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh wonder!&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;what noble creatures these
+      are! It must surely be a brave world that has such people in it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty and
+      excellent graces of the young Miranda as his son had been. &ldquo;Who is
+      this maid?&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;she seems the goddess that has parted
+      us, and brought us thus together.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his father had
+      fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first saw Miranda,
+      &ldquo;she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is mine; I chose
+      her when I could not ask you, my father, for your consent, not thinking
+      you were alive. She is the daughter this Prospero, who is the famous Duke
+      of Milan, of whose renown I have heard so much, but never saw him till
+      now: of him I have received a new life: he has made himself to me a second
+      father, giving me this dear lady.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I must be her father,&rdquo; said the king; &ldquo;but, oh,
+      how oddly will it sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more of that,&rdquo; said Prospero: &ldquo;let us not remember
+      our troubles past, since they so happily have ended.&rdquo; And then
+      Prospero embraced his brother, and again assured him of his forgiveness;
+      and said that a wise overruling Providence had permitted that he should be
+      driven from his poor dukedom of Milan, that his daughter might inherit the
+      crown of Naples, for that by their meeting in this desert island it had
+      happened that the king&rsquo;s son had loved Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his brother, so
+      filled Antonio with shame and remorse that be wept and was unable to
+      speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see this joyful reconciliation,
+      and prayed for blessings on the young couple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor, and the
+      sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter would accompany
+      them home the next morning. &ldquo;In the mean time,&rdquo; says he,
+      &ldquo;partake of such refreshments as my poor cave affords; and for your
+      evening&rsquo;s entertainment I will relate the history of my life from my
+      first landing in this desert island.&rdquo; He then called for Caliban to
+      prepare some food, and set the cave in order; and the company were
+      astonished at the uncouth form and savage appearance of this ugly monster,
+      who (Prospero said) was the only attendant he had to wait upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Prospero left the island he dismissed Ariel from service, to the
+      great joy of that lively little spirit, who, though he had been a faithful
+      servant to his master, was always longing to enjoy his free liberty, to
+      wander uncontrolled in the air, like a wild bird, under green trees, among
+      pleasant fruits, and sweet-smelling flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My quaint Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero to the little sprite when he
+      made him free, &ldquo;I shall miss you; yet you shall have your freedom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my dear master,&rdquo; said Ariel; &ldquo;but give me
+      leave to attend your ship home with prosperous gales, before you bid
+      farewell to the assistance of your faithful spirit; and then, master, when
+      I am free, how merrily I shall live!&rdquo; Here Ariel sang this pretty
+      song:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Where the bee sucks, there suck !;
+  In a cowslip&rsquo;s bell I lie:
+  There I crouch when owls do cry.
+  On the bat&rsquo;s back I do fly
+  After summer merrily.
+  Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+  Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and wand, for he
+      was resolved never more to make use of the magic art. And having thus
+      overcome his enemies, and being reconciled to his brother and the King of
+      Naples, nothing now remained to complete his happiness but to revisit his
+      native land, to take possession of his dukedom, and to witness the happy
+      nuptials of his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the king said should
+      be instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to Naples. At
+      which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel they, after a
+      pleasant voyage, soon arrived.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>A MIDSUMMER NIGHT&rsquo;S DREAM</h2>
+    <p>
+      There was a law in the city of Athens which gave to its citizens the power
+      of compelling their daughters to marry whomsoever they pleased; for upon a
+      daughter&rsquo;s refusing to marry the man her father had chosen to be her
+      husband, the father was empowered by this law to cause her to be put to
+      death; but as fathers do not often desire the death of their own
+      daughters, even though they do happen to prove a little refractory, this
+      law was seldom or never put in execution, though perhaps the young ladies
+      of that city were not unfrequently threatened by their parents with the
+      terrors of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was one instance, however, of an old man, whose name was Egeus, who
+      actually did come before Theseus (at that time the reigning Duke of
+      Athens), to complain that his daughter whom he had commanded to marry
+      Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian family, refused to obey him,
+      because she loved another young Athenian, named Lysander. Egeus demanded
+      justice of Theseus, and desired that this cruel law might be put in force
+      against his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia pleaded in excuse for her disobedience that Demetrius had formerly
+      professed love for her dear friend Helena, and that Helena loved Demetrius
+      to distraction; but this honorable reason, which Hermia gave for not
+      obeying her father&rsquo;s command, moved not the stern Egeus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Theseus, though a great and merciful prince, had no power to alter the
+      laws of his country; therefore he could only give Hermia four days to
+      consider of it: and at the end of that time, if she still refused to marry
+      Demetrius, she was to be put to death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermia was dismissed from the presence of the duke, she went to her
+      lover Lysander and told him the peril she was in, and that she must either
+      give him up and marry Demetrius or lose her life in four days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysander was in great affliction at hearing these evil tidings; but,
+      recollecting that be had an aunt who lived at some distance from Athens,
+      and that at the place where she lived the cruel law could not be put in
+      force against Hermia (this law not extending beyond the boundaries of the
+      city), he proposed to Hermia that she should steal out of her father&rsquo;s
+      house that night, and go with him to his aunt&rsquo;s house, where he
+      would marry her. &ldquo;I will meet you,&rdquo; said Lysander, &ldquo;in
+      the wood a few miles without the city; in that delightful wood where we
+      have so often walked with Helena in the pleasant month of May.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this proposal Hermia joyfully agreed; and she told no one of her
+      intended flight but her friend Helena. Helena (as maidens will do foolish
+      things for love) very ungenerously resolved to go and tell this to
+      Demetrius, though she could hope no benefit from betraying her friend&rsquo;s
+      secret but the poor pleasure of following her faithless lover to the wood;
+      for she well knew that Demetrius would go thither in pursuit of Hermia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wood in which Lysander and Hermia proposed to meet was the favorite
+      haunt of those little beings known by the name of &ldquo;fairies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon the king, and Titania the queen of the fairies, with all their tiny
+      train of followers, in this wood held their midnight revels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Between this little king and queen of sprites there happened, at this
+      time, a sad disagreement; they never met by moonlight in the shady walk of
+      this pleasant wood but they were quarreling, till all their fairy elves
+      would creep into acorn-cups and hide themselves for fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cause of this unhappy disagreement was Titania&rsquo;s refusing give
+      Oberon a little changeling boy, whose mother had been Titania&rsquo;s
+      friend; and upon her death the fairy queen stole the child from its nurse
+      and brought him up in the woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The night on which the lovers were to meet in this wood, as Titania was
+      walking with some of her maids of honor, she met Oberon attended by his
+      train of fairy courtiers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,&rdquo; said the fairy king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen replied: &ldquo;What, jealous Oberon, is it you? Fairies, skip
+      hence; I have forsworn his company.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry, rash fairy,&rdquo; said Oberon. &ldquo;Am I not thy lord?
+      Why does Titania cross her Oberon? Give me your little changeling boy to
+      be my page.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set your heart at rest,&rdquo; answered the queen; &ldquo;your
+      whole fairy kingdom buys not the boy of me.&rdquo; She then left her lord
+      in great anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, go your way,&rdquo; said Oberon; &ldquo;before the morning
+      dawns I will torment you for this injury.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon then sent for Puck, his chief favorite and privy counselor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow) was a shrewd and
+      knavish sprite, that used to play comical pranks in the neighboring
+      villages; sometimes getting into the dairies and skimming the milk,
+      sometimes plunging his light and airy form into the butter-churn, and
+      while he was dancing his fantastic shape in the churn, in vain the dairymaid
+      would labor to change her cream into butter. Nor had the village swains
+      any better success; whenever Puck chose to play his freaks in the brewing
+      copper, the ale was sure to be spoiled. When a few good neighbors were met
+      to drink some comfortable ale together, Puck would jump into the bowl of
+      ale in the likeness of a roasted crab, and when some old goody was going
+      to drink he would bob against her lips, and spill the ale over her
+      withered chin; and presently after, when the same old dame was gravely
+      seating herself to tell her neighbors a sad and melancholy story, Puck
+      would slip her three-legged stool from under her, and down toppled the
+      poor old woman, and then the old gossips would hold their sides and laugh
+      at her, and swear they never wasted a merrier hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come hither, Puck,&rdquo; said Oberon to this little merry wanderer
+      of the night; &ldquo;fetch me the flower which maids call &lsquo;Love in,
+      Idleness&rsquo;; the juice of that little purple flower laid on the
+      eyelids of those who sleep will make them, when they awake, dote on the
+      first thing they see. Some of the juice of that flower I will drop on the
+      eyelids of my Titania when she is asleep; and the first thing she looks
+      upon when she opens her eyes she will fall in love with, even though it be
+      a lion or a bear, a meddling monkey or a busy ape; and before I will take
+      this charm from off her sight, which I can do with another charm I know
+      of, I will make her give me that boy to be my page.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck, who loved mischief to his heart, was highly diverted with this
+      intended frolic of his master, and ran to seek the flower; and while
+      Oberon was waiting the return of Puck he observed Demetrius and Helena
+      enter the wood: he overheard Demetrius reproaching Helena for following
+      him, and after many unkind words on his part, and gentle expostulations
+      from Helena, reminding him of his former love and professions of true
+      faith to her, he left her (as he said) to the mercy of the wild beasts,
+      and she ran after him as swiftly as she could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king, who was always friendly to true lovers, felt great
+      compassion for Helena; and perhaps, as Lysander said they used to walk by
+      moonlight in this pleasant wood, Oberon might have seen Helena in those
+      happy times when she was beloved by Demetrius. However that might be, when
+      Puck returned with the little purple flower, Oberon said to his favorite:
+      &ldquo;Take a part of this flower; there has been a sweet Athenian lady
+      here, who is in love with a disdainful youth; if you find him sleeping,
+      drop some of the love-juice in his eyes, but contrive to do it when she is
+      near him, that the first thing he sees when he awakes may be this despised
+      lady. You will know the man ]by the Athenian garments which be wears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck promised to manage this matter very dexterously: and then Oberon
+      went, unperceived by Titania, to her bower, where she was preparing to go
+      to rest. Her fairy bower was a bank, where grew wild thyme, cowslips, and
+      sweet violets, under a canopy of woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine.
+      There Titania always slept some part of the night; her coverlet the
+      enameled skin of a snake, which, though a small mantle, was wide enough to
+      wrap a fairy in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found Titania giving orders to her fairies, how they were to employ
+      themselves while she slept. &ldquo;Some of you,&rdquo; said her Majesty,
+      &ldquo;must kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, and some wage war with the
+      bats for their leathern wings, to make my small elves coats; and some of
+      you keep watch that the clamorous owl, that nightly boots, come not near
+      me: but first sing me to sleep.&rdquo; Then they began to sing this song:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
+    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+  Newts and blind-worms do no wrong;
+    Come not near our fairy queen:
+
+  &ldquo;Philomel, with melody,
+  Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+  Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
+  Come our lovely lady nigh;
+  So, good night, with lullaby.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When the fairies had sung their queen asleep with this pretty lullaby,
+      they left her to perform the important services she had enjoined them.
+      Oberon then softly drew near his Titania and dropped some of the
+      love-juice on her eyelids, saying:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+   Do it for thy true-love take.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      But to return to Hermia, who made her escape out of her father&rsquo;s
+      house that night, to avoid the death she was doomed to for refusing to
+      marry Demetrius. When she entered the wood, she found her dear Lysander
+      waiting for her, to conduct her to his aunt&rsquo;s house; but before they
+      had passed half through the wood Hermia was so much fatigued that
+      Lysander, who was very careful of this dear lady, who had proved her
+      affection for him even by hazarding her life for his sake, persuaded her
+      to rest till morning on a bank of soft moss, and, lying down himself on
+      the ground at some little distance, they soon fell fast asleep. Here they
+      were found by Puck, who, seeing a handsome young man asleep, and
+      perceiving that his clothes were made in the Athenian fashion, and that a
+      pretty lady was sleeping near him, concluded that this must be the
+      Athenian maid and her disdainful lover whom Oberon had sent him to seek;
+      and he naturally enough conjectured that, as they were alone together, she
+      must be the first thing he would see when he awoke; so, without more ado,
+      he proceeded to pour some of the juice of the little purple flower into
+      his eyes. But it so fell out that Helena came that way, and, instead of
+      Hermia, was the first object Lysander beheld when he opened his eyes; and
+      strange to relate, so powerful was the love-charm, all his love for Hermia
+      vanished away and Lysander fell in love with Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had he first seen Hermia when he awoke, the blunder Puck committed would
+      have been of no consequence, for he could not love that faithful lady too
+      well; but for poor Lysander to be forced by a fairy love-charm to forget
+      his own true Hernia, and to run after another lady, and leave Hermia
+      asleep quite alone in a wood at midnight, was a sad chance indeed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus this misfortune happened. Helena, as has been before related,
+      endeavored to keep pace with Demetrius when he ran away so rudely from
+      her; but she could not continue this unequal race long, men being always
+      better runners in a long race than ladies. Helena soon lost sight of
+      Demetrius; and as she was wandering about, dejected and forlorn, she
+      arrived at the place where Lysander was sleeping. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said
+      she, &ldquo;this is Lysander lying on the ground. Is he dead or asleep?&rdquo;
+      Then, gently touching him, she said, &ldquo;Good sir, if you are alive,
+      awake.&rdquo; Upon this Lysander opened his eyes, and, the love-charm
+      beginning to work, immediately addressed her in terms of extravagant love
+      and admiration, telling her she as much excelled Hermia in beauty as a
+      dove does a raven, and that be would run through fire for her sweet sake;
+      and many more such lover-like speeches. Helena, knowing Lysander was her
+      friend Hermia&rsquo;s lover, and that he was solemnly engaged to marry
+      her, was in the utmost rage when she heard herself addressed in this
+      manner; for she thought (as well she might) that Lysander was making a
+      jest of her. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;why was I born to be
+      mocked and scorned by every one? Is it not enough, is it not enough, young
+      man, that I can never get a sweet look or a kind word from Demetrius; but
+      you, sir, must pretend in this disdainful manner to court me? I thought,
+      Lysander, you were a lord of more true gentleness.&rdquo; Saying these
+      words in great anger, she ran away; and Lysander followed her, quite
+      forgetful of his own Hermia, who was still asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermia awoke she was in a sad fright at finding herself alone. She
+      wandered about the wood, not knowing what was become of Lysander, or which
+      way to go to seek for him. In the mean time Demetrius, not being able to
+      find Hermia and his rival Lysander, and fatigued with his fruitless
+      search, was observed by Oberon fast asleep. Oberon had learned by some
+      questions he had asked of Puck that he had applied the lovecharm to the
+      wrong person&rsquo;s eyes; and now, having found the person first
+      intended, he touched the eyelids of the sleeping Demetrius with the
+      love-juice, and he instantly awoke; and the first thing he saw being
+      Helena, he, as Lysander had done before, began to address love-speeches to
+      her; and just at that moment Lysander, followed by Hermia (for through
+      Puck&rsquo;s unlucky mistake it was now become Hermia&rsquo;s turn to run
+      after her lover), made his appearance; and then Lysander and Demetrius,
+      both speaking together, made love to Helena, they being each one under the
+      influence of the same potent charm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The astonished Helena thought that Demetrius, Lysander, and her once dear
+      friend Hermia were all in a plot together to make a jest of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia was as much surprised as Helena; she knew not why Lysander and
+      Demetrius, who both before loved her, were now become the lovers of
+      Helena, and to Hermia the matter seemed to be no jest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies, who before bad always been the dearest of friends, now fell to
+      high words together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unkind. Hermia,&rdquo; said Helena, &ldquo;it is you have set
+      Lysander on to vex me with mock praises; and your other lover, Demetrius,
+      who used almost to spurn me with his foot, have you not bid him call me
+      goddess, nymph, rare, precious, and celestial? He would not speak thus to
+      me, whom he hates, if you did not set him on to make a jest of me. Unkind
+      Hermia, to join with men in scorning your poor friend. Have you forgot our
+      schoolday friendship? How often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one
+      cushion, both singing one song, with our needles working the same flower,
+      both on the same sampler wrought; growing up together in fashion of a
+      double cherry, scarcely seeming parted! Hermia, it is not friendly in you,
+      it is not maidenly to join with men in scorning your poor friend.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am amazed at your passionate words,&rdquo; said Hermia: &ldquo;I
+      scorn you not; it seems you scorn me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, do,&rdquo; returned Helena, &ldquo;persevere, counterfeit
+      serious looks, and make mouths at me when I turn my back; then wink at
+      each other, and hold the sweet jest up. If you had any pity, grace, or
+      manners, you would not use me thus.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Helena and Hermia were speaking these angry words to each other,
+      Demetrius and Lysander left them, to fight together in the wood for the
+      love of Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they found the gentlemen had left them, they departed, and once more
+      wandered weary in the wood in search of their lovers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as they were gone the fairy king, who with little Puck had been
+      listening to their quarrels, said to him, &ldquo;This is your negligence,
+      Puck; or did you do this wilfully?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me, king of shadows,&rdquo; answered Puck, &ldquo;it was a
+      mistake. Did not you tell me I should know the man by his Athenian
+      garments? However, I am not sorry this has happened, for I think their
+      jangling makes excellent sport.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You heard,&rdquo; said Oberon, &ldquo;that Demetrius and Lysander
+      are gone to seek a convenient place to fight in. I command you to overhang
+      the night with a thick fog, and lead these quarrelsome lovers so astray in&rsquo;
+      the dark that they shall not be able to find each other. Counterfeit each
+      of their voices to the other, and with bitter taunts provoke them to
+      follow you, while they think it is their rival&rsquo;s tongue they hear.
+      See you do this, till they are so weary they can go no farther; and when
+      you find they are asleep, drop the juice of this other flower into
+      Lysander&rsquo;s eyes, and when he awakes he will forget his new love for
+      Helena, and return to his old passion for Hermia; and then the two fair
+      ladies may each one be happy with the man she loves and they will think
+      all that has passed a vexatious dream. About this quickly, Puck, and I
+      will go and see what sweet love my Titania has found.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Titania was still sleeping, and Oberon, seeing a clown near her who had
+      lost his way in the wood and was likewise asleep, &ldquo;This fellow,&rdquo;
+      said he, &ldquo;shall be my Titania&rsquo;s true love&rdquo;; and clapping
+      an ass&rsquo;s head over the clown&rsquo;s, it seemed to fit him as well
+      as if it had grown upon his own shoulders. Though Oberon fixed the ass&rsquo;s
+      head on very gently, it awakened him, and, rising up, unconscious of what
+      Oberon had done to him, he went toward the bower where the fairy queen
+      slept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah I what angel is that I see?&rdquo; said Titania, opening her
+      eyes, and the juice of the little purple flower beginning to take effect.
+      &ldquo;Are you as wise as you are beautiful?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mistress,&rdquo; said the foolish clown, &ldquo;if I have wit
+      enough to find the way out of this wood, I have enough to serve my turn.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out of the wood do not desire to go,&rdquo; said the enamoured
+      queen. &ldquo;I am a spirit of no common rate. I love you. Go with me, and
+      I will give you fairies to attend upon you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She then called four of her fairies. Their names were Peas-blossom,
+      Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Attend,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;upon this sweet gentleman.
+      Hop in his walks and gambol in his sight; feed him with grapes and
+      apricots, and steal for him the honey-bags from the bees. Come, sit with
+      me,&rdquo; said she to the clown., &ldquo;and let me play with your
+      amiable hairy cheeks, my beautiful ass! and kiss your fair large ears, my
+      gentle joy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Peas-blossom?&rdquo; said the ass-headed clown, not much
+      regarding the fairy queen&rsquo;s courtship, but very proud of his new
+      attendants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir,&rdquo; said little Peas-blossom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scratch my head,&rdquo; said the clown. &ldquo;Where is Cobweb?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir,&rdquo; said Cobweb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Mr. Cobweb,&rdquo; said the foolish clown, &ldquo;kill me the
+      red humblebee on the top of that thistle yonder; and, good Mr. Cobweb,
+      bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, Mr.
+      Cobweb, and take care the honey-bag break not; I should be sorry to have
+      you overflown with a honey-bag. Where is Mustard-seed?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir, &ldquo; said Mustard-seed. &ldquo;What is your will?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; said the clown, &ldquo;good Mr. Mustard-seed, but
+      to help Mr. Peas-blossom to scratch; I must go to a barber&rsquo;s, Mr.
+      Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sweet love,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;what will you have to
+      eat? I have a venturous fairy shall seek the squirrel&rsquo;s hoard, and
+      fetch you some new nuts.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had rather have a handful of dried peas,&rdquo;&rsquo; said the
+      clown, who with his ass&rsquo;s head had got an ass&rsquo;s appetite.
+      &ldquo;But, I pray, let none of your people disturb me, for I have a mind
+      to sleep.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sleep, then,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;and I will wind you in
+      my arms. Oh, how I love you! how I dote upon you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the fairy king saw the clown sleeping in the arms of his queen, he
+      advanced within her sight, and reproached her with having lavished her
+      favors upon an ass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This she could not deny, as the clown was then sleeping within her arms,
+      with his ass&rsquo;s head crowned by her with flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again demanded the changeling
+      boy; which she, ashamed of being discovered by her lord with her new
+      favorite, did not dare to refuse him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon, having thus obtained the little boy he had so long wished for to
+      be his page, took pity on the disgraceful situation into which, by his
+      merry contrivance, he had brought his Titania, and threw some of the juice
+      of the other flower into her eyes; and the fairy queen immediately
+      recovered her senses, and wondered at her late dotage, saying how she now
+      loathed the sight of the strange monster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon likewise took the ass&rsquo;s head from off the clown, and left him
+      to finish his nap with his own fool&rsquo;s head upon his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon and his Titania being now perfectly reconciled, he related to her
+      the history of the lovers and their midnight quarrels, and she agreed to
+      go with him and see the end of their adventures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king and queen found the lovers and their fair ladies, at no
+      great distance from one another, sleeping on a grass-plot; for Puck, to
+      make amends for his former mistake, had contrived with the utmost
+      diligence to bring them all to the same spot, unknown to one another; and
+      he bad carefully removed the charm from off the eyes of Lysander with the
+      antidote the fairy king gave to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia first awoke, and, finding her lost Lysander asleep so near her, was
+      looking at him and wondering at his strange inconstancy. Lysander
+      presently opening his eyes, and seeing his dear Hermia, recovered his
+      reason which the fairy charm had before clouded, and with his reason his
+      love for Hermia; and they began to talk over the adventures of the night,
+      doubting if these things had really happened, or if they bad both been
+      dreaming the same bewildering dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena and Demetrius were by this time awake; and a sweet sleep having
+      quieted Helena&rsquo;s disturbed and angry spirits, she listened with
+      delight to the professions of love which Demetrius still made to her, and
+      which, to her surprise as well as pleasure, she began to perceive were
+      sincere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These fair night-wandering ladies, now no longer rivals, became once more
+      true friends; all the unkind words which had passed were forgiven, and
+      they calmly consulted together what was best to be done in their present
+      situation. It was soon agreed that, as Demetrius bad given up his
+      pretensions to Hermia, he should endeavor to prevail upon her father to
+      revoke the cruel sentence of death which had been passed against her.
+      Demetrius was preparing to return to Athens for this friendly purpose,
+      when they were surprised with the sight of Egeus, Hermia&rsquo;s father,
+      who came to the wood in pursuit of his runaway daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Egeus understood that Demetrius would not now marry his daughter, he
+      no longer opposed her marriage with Lysander, but gave his consent that
+      they should be wedded on the fourth day from that time, being the same day
+      on which Hermia had been condemned to lose her life; and on that same day
+      Helena joyfully agreed to marry her beloved and now faithful Demetrius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king and queen, who were invisible spectators of this
+      reconciliation, and now saw the happy ending of the lovers&rsquo; history,
+      brought about through the good offices of Oberon, received so much
+      pleasure that these kind spirits resolved to celebrate the approaching
+      nuptials with sports and revels throughout their fairy kingdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their pranks,
+      as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to think that they
+      have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these adventures were visions
+      which they saw in their sleep. And I hope none of my readers will be so
+      unreasonable as to be offended with a pretty, harmless Midsummer Night&rsquo;s
+      Dream.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE WINTER&rsquo;S TALE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Leontes, King of Sicily, and his queen, the beautiful and virtuous
+      Hermione, once lived in the greatest harmony together. So happy was
+      Leontes in the love of this excellent lady that he had no wish
+      ungratified, except that he some times desired to see again and to present
+      to his queen his old companion and schoolfellow, Polixenes, King of
+      Bohemia. Leontes and Polixenes were brought up together from their
+      infancy, but being, by the death of their fathers, called to reign over
+      their respective kingdoms, they had not met for many years, though they
+      frequently interchanged gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came from Bohemia to the
+      Sicilian court, to make his friend Leontes a visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to Leontes. He recommended
+      the friend of his youth to the queen&rsquo;s particular attention, and
+      seemed in the presence of his dear friend and old companion to have his
+      felicity quite completed. They talked over old times; their school-days
+      and their youthful pranks were remembered, and recounted to Hermione, who
+      always took a cheerful part in these conversations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart, Hermione, at
+      the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to his that Polixenes
+      would prolong his visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now began this good queen&rsquo;s sorrow; for Polixenes, refusing to
+      stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione&rsquo;s gentle
+      and persuasive words to put off his departure for some weeks longer. Upon
+      this, although Leontes had so long known the integrity and honorable
+      principles of his friend Polixenes, as well as the excellent disposition
+      of his virtuous queen, he was seized with an ungovernable jealousy. Every
+      attention Hermione showed to Polixenes, though by her husband&rsquo;s
+      particular desire and merely to please him, increased the unfortunate king&rsquo;s
+      jealousy; and from being a loving and a true friend, and the best and
+      fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage and inhuman monster.
+      Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his court, and telling him of the
+      suspicion he entertained, he commanded him to poison Polixenes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that the jealousy of Leontes
+      had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of poisoning Polixenes,
+      acquainted him with the king his master&rsquo;s orders, and agreed to
+      escape with him out of the Sicilian dominions; and Polixenes, with the
+      assistance of Camillo, arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia, where
+      Camillo lived from that time in the king&rsquo;s court and became the
+      chief friend and favorite of Polixenes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more; he went to
+      the queen&rsquo;s apartment, where the good lady was sitting with her
+      little son Mamillius, who was just beginning to tell one of his best
+      stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered and, taking the child
+      away, sent Hermione to prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mamillius, though but a very young child, loved his mother tenderly; and
+      when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was taken from him to be put
+      into a prison, he took it deeply to heart and drooped and pined away by
+      slow degrees, losing his appetite and his sleep, till it was thought his
+      grief would kill him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded Cleomenes and
+      Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there to inquire of the oracle
+      at the temple of Apollo if his queen had been unfaithful to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermione had been a short time in prison she was brought to bed of a
+      daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from the sight of her
+      pretty baby, and she said to it, &ldquo;My poor little prisoner, I am as
+      innocent as you are.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited Paulina, who was the wife
+      of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the lady Paulina heard her royal
+      mistress was brought to bed she went to the prison where Hermione was
+      confined; and she said to Emilia, a lady who attended upon Hermione,
+      &ldquo;I pray you, Emilia, tell the good queen, if her Majesty dare trust
+      me with her little babe, I will carry it to the king, its father: we do
+      not know how he may soften at the sight of his innocent child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most worthy madam,&rdquo; replied Emilia, &ldquo;I will acquaint
+      the queen with your noble offer. She was wishing to-day that she had any
+      friend who would venture to present the child to the king.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And tell her,&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;that I will speak boldly
+      to Leontes in her defense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May you be forever blessed,&rdquo; said Emilia, &ldquo;for your
+      kindness to our gracious queen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilia then went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to the care of
+      Paulina, for she had feared that no one would dare venture to present the
+      child to its father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina took the new-born infant and, forcing herself into the king&rsquo;s
+      presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king&rsquo;s anger,
+      endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its father&rsquo;s feet;
+      and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in defense of Hermione, and
+      she reproached him severely for his inhumanity and implored him to have
+      mercy on his innocent wife and child. But Paulina&rsquo;s spirited
+      remonstrances only aggravated Leontes&rsquo;s displeasure, and he ordered
+      her husband Antigonus to take her from his presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Paulina went away she left the little baby at its father&rsquo;s
+      feet, thinking when he was alone with it he would look upon it and have
+      pity on its helpless innocence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was she gone than the
+      merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina&rsquo;s husband, to take the
+      child and carry it out to sea and leave it upon some desert shore to
+      perish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of Leontes;
+      for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and put out to sea,
+      intending to leave it on the first desert coast he could find.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of Hermione that he would
+      not wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion; whom he had sent to consult
+      the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the queen was recovered from
+      her lying-in, and from the grief for the loss of her precious baby, he had
+      her brought to a public trial before all the lords and nobles of his
+      court. And when all the great lords, the judges, and all the nobility of
+      the land were assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy queen
+      was standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their judgment,
+      Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly and presented to the king the
+      answer of the oracle, sealed up; and Leontes commanded the seal to be
+      broken, and the words of the oracle to be read aloud, and these were the
+      words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject,
+      Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live without an heir if that
+      which is lost be not found.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king would give no credit to the words of the oracle. He said it was a
+      falsehood invented by the queen&rsquo;s friends, and be desired the judge
+      to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while Leontes was speaking a man
+      entered and told him that the Prince Mamillius, hearing his mother was to
+      be tried for her life, struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear, affectionate child, who
+      had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune, fainted; and Leontes,
+      pierced to the heart by the news, began to feel pity for his unhappy
+      queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the ladies who were her attendants, to
+      take her away and use means for her recovery. Paulina soon returned and
+      told the king that Hermione was dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Leontes heard that the queen was dead he repented of his cruelty to
+      her; and now that he thought his ill-usage had broken Hermione&rsquo;s
+      heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought the words of the
+      oracle were true, as he knew &ldquo;if that which was lost was not found,&rdquo;
+      which he concluded was his young daughter, he should be without an heir,
+      the young Prince Mamillius being dead; and he would give his kingdom now
+      to recover his lost daughter. And Leontes gave himself up to remorse and
+      passed many years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to sea was
+      driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very kingdom of the good
+      King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed and here he left the little baby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had left his
+      daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear came out of the
+      woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment on him for obeying the
+      wicked order Leontes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione had made it
+      very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus had pinned a paper to
+      its mantle, and the name of &ldquo;Perdita&rdquo; written thereon, and
+      words obscurely intimating its high birth and untoward fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This poor, deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane man, and
+      so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who nursed it tenderly.
+      But poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal the rich prize be had found;
+      therefore he left that part of the country, that no one might know where
+      he got his riches, and with part of Perdita&rsquo;s jewels be bought herds
+      of sheep and became a wealthy shepherd. He brought up Perdita as his own
+      child, and she knew not she was any other than a shepherd&rsquo;s
+      daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no better
+      education than that of a shepherd&rsquo;s daughter, yet so did the natural
+      graces she inherited from her royal mother shine forth in her untutored
+      mind that no one, from her behavior, would have known she had not been
+      brought up in her father&rsquo;s court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes, the King of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was Florizel.
+      As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd&rsquo;s dwelling he saw
+      the old man&rsquo;s supposed daughter; and the beauty, modesty, and
+      queenlike deportment of Perdita caused him instantly to fall in love with
+      her. He soon, under the name of Doricles, and in the disguise of a private
+      gentleman, became a constant visitor at the old shepherd&rsquo;s house.
+      Florizel&rsquo;s frequent absences from court alarmed Polixenes; and
+      setting people to watch his son, he discovered his love for the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      fair daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had preserved
+      his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he would accompany him
+      to the house of the shepherd, the supposed father of Perdita. Polixenes
+      and Camillo, both in disguise, arrived at the old shepherd&rsquo;s
+      dwelling while they were celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and
+      though they were strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing, every guest being
+      made welcome, they were invited to walk in and join in the general
+      festivity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were spread and
+      fit great preparations were making for the rustic feast. Some lads and
+      lasses were dancing on the green before the house, while others of the
+      young men were buying ribands, gloves, and such toys of a peddler at the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While this busy scene was going forward Florizel and Perdita sat quietly
+      in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the conversation of each
+      other than desirous of engaging in the sports and silly amusements of
+      those around them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could know him.
+      He therefore advanced near enough to hear the conversation. The simple yet
+      elegant manner in which Perdita conversed with his son did not a little
+      surprise Polixenes. He said to Camillo:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does or
+      says but looks like something greater than herself, too noble for this
+      place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo replied, &ldquo;Indeed she is the very queen of curds and cream.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray, my good friend,&rdquo; said the king to the old shepherd,
+      &ldquo;what fair swain is that talking with your daughter?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They call him Doricles,&rdquo; replied the shepherd. &ldquo;He says
+      he loves my daughter; and, to speak truth, there is not a kiss to choose
+      which loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her, she shall bring
+      him that he little dreams of,&rdquo; meaning the remainder of Perdita&rsquo;s
+      jewels; which, after he had bought herds of sheep with part of them, he
+      had carefully hoarded up for her marriage portion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes then addressed his son. &ldquo;How now, young man!&rdquo; said
+      he. &ldquo;Your heart seems full of something that takes off your mind
+      from feasting. When I was young I used to load my love with presents; but
+      you have let the peddler go and have bought your lass no toy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king his
+      father, replied, &ldquo;Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the gifts
+      which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.&rdquo; Then
+      turning to Perdita, he said to her, &ldquo;Oh, hear me, Perdita, before
+      this ancient gentleman, who it seems was once himself a lover; he shall
+      hear what I profess.&rdquo; Florizel then called upon the old stranger to
+      be a witness to a solemn promise of marriage which be made to Perdita,
+      saying to Polixenes, &ldquo;I pray you, mark our contract.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mark your divorce, young sir,&rdquo; said the king, discovering
+      himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract himself
+      to this low-born maiden, calling Perdita &ldquo;shepherd&rsquo;s brat,
+      sheep-hook,&rdquo; and other disrespectful names, and threatening if ever
+      she suffered his son to see her again, he would put her, and the old
+      shepherd her father, to a cruel death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to follow him
+      with Prince Florizel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was roused by
+      Polixenes&rsquo;s reproaches, said, &ldquo;Though we are all undone, I was
+      not much afraid; and once or twice I was about to speak and tell him
+      plainly that the selfsame sun which shines upon his palace hides not his
+      face from our cottage, but looks on both alike.&rdquo; Then sorrowfully
+      she said, &ldquo;But now I am awakened from this dream, I will queen it no
+      further. Leave me, sir. I will go milk my ewes and weep.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and propriety of
+      Perdita&rsquo;s behavior; and, perceiving that the young prince was too
+      deeply in love to give up his mistress at the command of his royal father,
+      he thought of a way to befriend the lovers and at the same time to execute
+      a favorite scheme he had in his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo had long known that Leontes, the King of Sicily, was become a true
+      penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored friend of King Polixenes,
+      he could not help wishing once more to see his late royal master and his
+      native home. He therefore proposed to Florizel and Perdita that they
+      should accompany him to the Sicilian court, where he would engage Leontes
+      should protect them till, through his mediation, they could obtain pardon
+      from Polixenes and his consent to their marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
+      everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to go along
+      with them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita&rsquo;s jewels, her
+      baby clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her mantle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the old
+      shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes, who still
+      mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received Camillo with great
+      kindness and gave a cordial welcome to Prince Florizel. But Perdita, whom
+      Florizel introduced as his princess, seemed to engross all Leontes&rsquo;s
+      attention. Perceiving a resemblance between her and his dead queen
+      Hermione, his grief broke out afresh, and he said such a lovely creature
+      might his own daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then, too,&rdquo; said he to Florizel, &ldquo;I lost the
+      society and friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more than
+      my life once again to look upon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of Perdita,
+      and that he had lost a daughter who was exposed in infancy, he fell to
+      comparing the time when he found the little Perdita with the manner of its
+      exposure, the jewels and other tokens of its high birth; from all which it
+      was impossible for him not to conclude that Perdita and the king&rsquo;s
+      lost daughter were the same.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were present when
+      the old shepherd related to the king the manner in which he had found the
+      child, and also the circumstance of Antigonus&rsquo;s death, he having
+      seen the bear seize upon him. He showed the rich mantle in which Paulina
+      remembered Hermione had wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which
+      she remembered Hermione had tied about Perdita&rsquo;s neck; and he gave
+      up the paper which Paulina knew to be the writing of her husband. It could
+      not be doubted that Perdita was Leontes&rsquo;s own daughter. But, oh, the
+      noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for her husband&rsquo;s death
+      and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the king&rsquo;s heir, his
+      long-lost daughter being found! When Leontes heard that Perdita was his
+      daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that Hermione was not living to
+      behold her child made him that he could say nothing for a long time but
+      &ldquo;Oh, thy mother, thy mother!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene with saying to
+      Leontes that she had a statue newly finished by that rare Italian master,
+      Julio Romano, which was such a perfect resemblance of the queen that would
+      his Majesty be pleased to go to her house and look upon it, be would be
+      almost ready to think it was Hermione herself. Thither then they all went;
+      the king, anxious to see the semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita
+      longing to behold what the mother she never saw did look like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous statue, so
+      perfectly did it resemble Hermione that all the king&rsquo;s sorrow was
+      renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power to speak or move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like your silence, my liege,&rdquo; said Paulina; &ldquo;it the
+      more shows your wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the king said: &ldquo;Oh, thus she stood, even with such
+      majesty, when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so
+      aged as this statue looks.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina replied: &ldquo;So much the more the carver&rsquo;s excellence,
+      who has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had she been living
+      now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently you think it moves.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king then said: &ldquo;Do not draw the curtain. Would I were dead!
+      See, Carmillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to have
+      motion in it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must draw the curtain, my liege,&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;You
+      are so transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sweet Pauline,&rdquo; said Leontes, &ldquo;make me think so
+      twenty years together! Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
+      fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I will kiss
+      her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good my lord, forbear!&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;The ruddiness
+      upon her lip is wet; you will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I
+      draw the curtain?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not these twenty years,&rdquo; said Leontes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perdita, who all this time bad been kneeling and beholding in silent
+      admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now, &ldquo;And so
+      long could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Either forbear this transport,&rdquo; said Paulina to Leontes,
+      &ldquo;and let me draw the curtain or prepare yourself for more amazement.
+      I can make the statue move indeed; aye, and descend from off the pedestal
+      and take you by the hand. But then you will think, which I protest I am
+      not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you can make her do,&rdquo; said the astonished king, &ldquo;I
+      am content to look upon. What you can make her speak I am content to hear;
+      for it is as easy to make her speak as move.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had prepared
+      for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of all the beholders,
+      the statue came down from off the pedestal and threw its arms around
+      Leontes&rsquo;s neck. The statue then began to speak, praying for
+      blessings on her husband and on her child, the newly found Perdita.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes&rsquo;s neck and blessed her
+      husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed Hermione
+      herself, the real, the living queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione&rsquo;
+      thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress&rsquo;s life;
+      and with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since, never choosing
+      Leontes should know she was living till she heard Perdita was found; for
+      though she had long forgiven the injuries which Leontes had done to
+      herself, she could not pardon his cruelty to his infant daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found, the
+      long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of his own
+      happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard on all
+      sides. Now the delighted parents thanked Prince Florizel for loving their
+      lowly seeming daughter; and now they blessed the good old shepherd for
+      preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo and Paulina rejoice that they
+      had lived to see so good an end of all their faithful services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
+      unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that Camillo had
+      long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he should find the
+      fugitives here; and, following them with all speed, he happened to just
+      arrive at this the happiest moment of Leontes&rsquo;s life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend Leontes
+      the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and they once more loved
+      each other with all the warmth of their first boyish friendship. And there
+      was no fear that Polixenes would now oppose his son&rsquo;s marriage with
+      Perdita. She was no &ldquo;sheep-hook&rdquo; now, but the heiress of the
+      crown of Sicily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering Hermione
+      rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her Leontes and her
+      Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING</h2>
+    <p>
+      There lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were Hero and
+      Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the niece, of Leonato, the
+      governor of Messina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice was of a lively temper and loved to divert her cousin Hero, who
+      was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly sallies. Whatever
+      was going forward was sure to make matter of mirth for the light-hearted
+      Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the time the history of these ladies commences some young men of high
+      rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on their return
+      from a war that was just ended, in which they bad distinguished themselves
+      by their great bravery, came to visit Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro,
+      the Prince of Arragon, and his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence;
+      and with them came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of
+      Padua.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable governor
+      introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their old friends and
+      acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, the moment he entered the room, began a lively conversation with
+      Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not to be left out of any
+      discourse, interrupted Benedick with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody
+      marks you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick was just such another rattlebrain as Beatrice, yet he was not
+      pleased at this free salutation; he thought it did not become a well-bred
+      lady to be so flippant with her tongue; and he remembered, when he was
+      last at Messina, that Beatrice used to select him to make her merry jests
+      upon. And as there is no one who so little likes to be made a jest of as
+      those who are apt to take the same liberty themselves, so it was with
+      Benedick and Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former times but
+      a perfect war of raillery was kept up between them, and they always parted
+      mutually displeased with each other. Therefore, when Beatrice stopped him
+      in the middle of his discourse with telling him nobody marked what he was
+      saying, Benedick, affecting not to have observed before that she was
+      present, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?&rdquo; And now war
+      broke out afresh between them, and a long jangling argument ensued, during
+      which Beatrice, although she knew be had so well approved his valor in the
+      late war, said that she would eat all he had killed there; and observing
+      the prince take delight in Benedick&rsquo;s conversation, she called him
+      &ldquo;the prince&rsquo;s jester.&rdquo; This sarcasm sank deeper into the
+      mind of Benedick than all Beatrice had said before. The hint she gave him
+      that he was a coward, by saying she would eat all he bad killed, he did
+      not regard, knowing himself to be a brave man; but there is nothing that
+      great wits so much dread as the imputation of buffoonery, because the
+      charge comes sometimes a little too near the truth; therefore Benedick
+      perfectly hated Beatrice when she called him &ldquo;the prince&rsquo;s
+      jester.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The modest lady Hero was silent before the noble guests; and while Claudio
+      was attentively observing the improvement which time had made in her
+      beauty, and was contemplating the exquisite graces of her fine figure (for
+      she was an admirable young lady), the prince was highly amused with
+      listening to the humorous dialogue between Benedick and Beatrice; and he
+      said in a whisper to Leonato:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a pleasant-spirited young lady. She were an excellent wife
+      for Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato replied to this suggestion, &ldquo;O my lord, my lord, if they
+      were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But though Leonato thought they would make a discordant pair, the prince
+      did not give up the idea of matching these two keen wits together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the prince returned with Claudio from the palace he found that the
+      marriage he had devised between Benedick and Beatrice was not the only one
+      projected in that good company, for Claudio spoke in such terms of Hero as
+      made the prince guess at what was passing in his heart; and he liked it
+      well, and he said to Claudio:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you affect Hero?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this question Claudio replied, &ldquo;O my lord, when I was last at
+      Messina I looked upon her with a soldier&rsquo;s eye, that liked, but had
+      no leisure for loving; but now, in this happy time of peace, thoughts of
+      war have left their places vacant in my mind, and in their room come
+      thronging soft and delicate thoughts, all prompting me how fair young Hero
+      is, reminding me that I liked her before I went to the wars.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio&rsquo;s confession of his love for Hero so wrought upon the prince
+      that be lost no time in soliciting the consent of Leonato to accept of
+      Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato agreed to this proposal, and the prince
+      found no great difficulty in persuading the gentle Hero herself to listen
+      to the suit of the noble Claudio who was a lord of rare endowments and
+      highly accomplished, and Claudio, assisted by his kind prince, soon
+      prevailed upon Leonato to fix an early day for the celebration of his
+      marriage with Hero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio was to wait but a few days before he was to be married to his fair
+      lady; yet he complained of the interval being tedious, as indeed most
+      young men are impatient when they are waiting for the accomplishment of
+      any event they have set their hearts upon. The prince, therefore, to make
+      the time seem short to him, proposed as a kind of merry pastime that they
+      should invent some artful scheme to make Benedick and Beatrice fall in
+      love with each other. Claudio entered with great satisfaction into this
+      whim of the prince, and Leonato promised them his assistance, and even
+      Hero said she would do any modest office to help her cousin to a good
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The device the prince invented was that the gentlemen should make Benedick
+      believe that Beatrice was in love with him, and that Hero should make
+      Beatrice believe that Benedick was in love with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince, Leonato, and Claudio began their operations first; and
+      watching upon an opportunity when Benedick was quietly seated reading in
+      an arbor, the prince and his assistants took their station among the trees
+      behind the arbor, so near that Benedick could not choose but hear all they
+      said; and after some careless talk the prince said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me the other day&mdash;that
+      your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick? I did never think
+      that lady would have loved any man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nor I neither, my lord,&rdquo; answered Leonato. &ldquo;It is
+      most wonderful that she should so dote on Benedick, whom she in all
+      outward behavior seemed ever to dislike.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio confirmed all this with saying that Hero bad told him Beatrice was
+      so in love with Benedick that she would certainly die of grief if he could
+      not be brought to love her; which Leonato and Claudio seemed to agree was
+      impossible, he having always been such a railer against all fair ladies,
+      and in particular against Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince affected to harken to all this with great compassion for
+      Beatrice, and he said, &ldquo;It were good that Benedick were told of
+      this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To what end?&rdquo; said Claudio. &ldquo;He would but make sport of
+      it, and torment the poor lady worse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if he should,&rdquo; said the prince, &ldquo;it were a good
+      deed to hang him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and exceeding
+      wise in everything but in loving Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the prince motioned to his companions that they should walk on and
+      leave Benedick to meditate upon what he had overheard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this conversation; and
+      he said to himself, when be heard Beatrice loved him: &ldquo;Is it
+      possible? Sits the wind in that corner?&rdquo; And when they were gone, he
+      began to reason in this manner with himself: &ldquo;This can be no trick!
+      They were very serious, and they have the truth from Hero, and seem to
+      pity the lady. Love me! Why, it must be requited! I did never think to
+      marry. But when I said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should
+      live to be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so. And
+      wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great argument of her
+      folly! But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she is a fair lady. I do spy
+      some marks of love in her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice now approached him and said, with her usual tartness, &ldquo;Against
+      my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so politely to her
+      before, replied, &ldquo;Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.&rdquo;
+      And when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left him,
+      Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness under the
+      uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud: &ldquo;If I do not take pity
+      on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get
+      her picture.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for him, it was
+      now Hero&rsquo;s turn to play her part with Beatrice; and for this purpose
+      she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two gentlewomen who attended upon her,
+      and she said to Margaret:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Margaret, run to the parlor; there you will find my cousin
+      Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio. Whisper in her ear that I
+      and Ursula are walking in the orchard and that our discourse is all of
+      her. Bid her steal into that pleasant arbor, where honeysuckles, ripened
+      by the sun, like ungrateful minions, forbid the sun to enter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This arbor into which Hero desired Margaret to entice Beatrice was the
+      very same pleasant arbor where Benedick had so lately been an attentive
+      listener.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make her come, I warrant, presently,&rdquo; said Margaret.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her: &ldquo;Now,
+      Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and down this alley, and our
+      talk must be only of Benedick, and when I name him, let it be your part to
+      praise him more than ever man did merit. My talk to you must be how
+      Benedick is in love with Beatrice. Now begin; for look where Beatrice like
+      a lapwing runs close by the ground, to hear our conference.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They then began, Hero saying&rsquo;, as if in answer to something which
+      Ursula had said: &ldquo;No, truly, Ursula. She is too disdainful; her
+      spirits are as coy as wild birds of the rock.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But are you sure,&rdquo; said Ursula, &ldquo;that Benedick loves
+      Beatrice so entirely?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero replied, &ldquo;So says the prince and my lord Claudio, and they
+      entreated me to acquaint her with it; but I persuaded them, if they loved
+      Benedick, never to let Beatrice know of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; replied Ursula, &ldquo;it were not good she knew
+      his love, lest she made sport of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, to say truth,&rdquo; said Hero, never yet saw a man, how wise
+      soever, or noble, young,@ or rarely featured, but she would dispraise him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure@ sure, such carping is not commendable,&rdquo; said Ursula.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Hero, &ldquo;but who dare tell her so? If I
+      should speak, she would mock me into air.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you wrong your cousin!&rdquo; said Ursula. &ldquo;She cannot be
+      so much without true judgment as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signor
+      Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He hath an excellent good name,&rdquo; said Hero. &ldquo;Indeed, he
+      is the first man in Italy, always excepting my dear Claudio.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, Hero giving her attendant a hint that it was time to change the
+      discourse, Ursula said, &ldquo;And when are you to be married, madam?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero then told her that she was to be married to Claudio the next day, and
+      desired she would go in with her and look at some new attire, as she
+      wished to consult with her on what she would wear on the morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice, who had been listening with breathless eagerness to this
+      dialogue, when they went away exclaimed: &ldquo;What fire is in mine ears?
+      Can this be true? Farewell, contempt and scorn, and maiden pride, adieu!
+      Benedick, love on! I will requite you, taming my wild heart to your loving
+      hand.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must have been a pleasant sight to see these old enemies converted into
+      new and loving friends, and to behold their first meeting after being
+      cheated into mutual liking by the merry artifice of the good-humored
+      prince. But a sad reverse in the fortunes of Hero must now be thought of.
+      The morrow, which was to have been her wedding-day, brought sorrow on the
+      heart of Hero and her good father, Leonato.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince had a half-brother, who came from the wars along with him to
+      Messina. This brother (his name was Don John) was a melancholy,
+      discontented man, whose spirits seemed to labor in the contriving of
+      villainies. He hated the prince his brother, and he hated Claudio because
+      he was the prince&rsquo;s friend, and determined to prevent Claudio&rsquo;s
+      marriage with Hero, only for the malicious pleasure of making Claudio and
+      the prince unhappy, for he knew the prince had set his heart upon this
+      marriage almost as much as Claudio himself; and to effect this wicked
+      purpose he employed one Borachio, a man as bad as himself, whom he
+      encouraged with the offer of a great reward. This Borachio paid his court
+      to Margaret, Hero&rsquo;s attendant; and Don John, knowing this, prevailed
+      upon him to make Margaret promise to talk with him from her lady&rsquo;s
+      chamber window that night, after Hero was asleep, and also to dress
+      herself in Hero&rsquo;s clothes, the better to deceive Claudio into the
+      belief that it was Hero; for that was the end he meant to compass by this
+      wicked plot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Don John then went to the prince and Claudio and told them that Hero was
+      an imprudent lady, and that she talked with men from her chamber window at
+      midnight. Now this was the evening before the wedding, and he offered to
+      take them that night where they should themselves hear Hero discoursing
+      with a man from her window; and they consented to go along with him, and
+      Claudio said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her, to-morrow in
+      the congregation, where I intended to wed her, there will I shame her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince also said, &ldquo;And as I assisted you to obtain her, I will
+      join with you to disgrace her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Don John brought them near Hero&rsquo;s chamber that night, they saw
+      Borachio standing under the window, and they saw Margaret looking out of
+      Hero&rsquo;s window and heard her talking with Borachio; and Margaret
+      being dressed in the same clothes they had seen Hero wear, the prince and
+      Claudio believed it was the lady Hero herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could equal the anger of Claudio when he had made (as be thought)
+      this discovery. All his love for the innocent Hero was at once converted
+      into hatred, and he resolved to expose her in the church, as he had said
+      he would, the next day; and the prince agreed to this, thinking no
+      punishment could be too severe for the naughty lady who talked with a man
+      from her window the very night before she was going to be married to the
+      noble Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day, when they were all met to celebrate the marriage, and
+      Claudio and Hero were standing before the priest, and the priest, or
+      friar, as he was called, was proceeding to pronounce the marriage
+      ceremony, Claudio, in the most passionate language, proclaimed the guilt
+      of the blameless Hero, who, amazed at the strange words he uttered, said,
+      meekly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, &ldquo;My lord, why
+      speak not you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What should I speak?&rdquo; said the prince. &ldquo;I stand
+      dishonored that have gone about to link my dear friend to an unworthy
+      woman. Leonato, upon my honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved
+      Claudio did see and bear her last night at midnight talk with a man at her
+      chamber window.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, in astonishment at what he heard, said, &ldquo;This looks not
+      like a nuptial.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True, O God!&rdquo; replied the heart-struck Hero; and then this
+      hapless lady sank down in a fainting fit, to all appearance dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince and Claudio left the church without staying to see if Hero
+      would recover, or at all regarding the distress into which they had thrown
+      Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick remained and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her swoon,
+      saying, &ldquo;How does the lady?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dead, I think,&rdquo; replied Beatrice, in great agony, for she
+      loved her cousin; and, knowing her virtuous principles, she believed
+      nothing of what she had heard spoken against her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so the poor old father. He believed the story of his child&rsquo;s
+      shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she lay like
+      one dead before him, wishing she might never more open her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the ancient friar was a wise man and full of observation on human
+      nature, and he had attentively marked the lady&rsquo;s countenance when
+      she heard herself accused and noted a thousand blushing shames to start
+      into her face, and then he saw an angel-like whiteness bear away those
+      blushes, and in her eye be saw a fire that did belie the error that the
+      prince did speak against her maiden truth, and he said to the sorrowing
+      father:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observation; trust not
+      my age, my reverence, nor my calling, if this sweet lady lie not guiltless
+      here under some biting error.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen, the
+      friar said to her, &ldquo;Lady, what man is he you are accused of?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero replied, &ldquo;They know that do accuse me; I know of none.&rdquo;
+      Then turning to Leonato, she said, &ldquo;O my father, if you can prove
+      that any man has ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I
+      yesternight changed words with any creature, refuse me, hate me, torture
+      me to death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; said the friar, &ldquo;some strange
+      misunderstanding in the prince and Claudio.&rdquo; And then he counseled
+      Leonato that he should report that Hero was dead; and he said that the
+      deathlike swoon in which they had left Hero would make this easy of
+      belief; and he also advised him that he should put on mourning, and erect
+      a monument for her, and do all rites that appertain to a burial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall become of this?&rdquo; said Leonato. &ldquo;What will
+      this do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The friar replied: &ldquo;This report of her death shall change slander
+      into pity; that is some good. But that is not all the good 1 hope for.
+      When Claudio shall hear she died upon hearing his words, the idea of her
+      life shall sweetly creep into his imagination. Then shall he mourn, if
+      ever love had interest in his heart, and wish that be had not so accused
+      her; yea, though he thought his accusation true.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick now said, &ldquo;Leonato, let the friar advise you; and though
+      you know how well I love the prince and Claudio, yet on my honor I will
+      not reveal this secret to them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said, sorrowfully, &ldquo;I am so
+      grieved that the smallest twine may lead me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kind friar then led Leonato and Hero away to comfort and console them,
+      and Beatrice and Benedick remained alone; and this was the meeting from
+      which their friends, who contrived the merry plot against them, expected
+      so much diversion; those friends who were now overwhelmed with affliction
+      and from whose minds all thoughts of merriment seemed forever banished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, &ldquo;Lady Beatrice, have
+      you wept all this while?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yea, and I will weep awhile longer,&rdquo; said Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said. Benedick, &ldquo;I do believe your fair cousin
+      is wronged.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Beatrice, &ldquo;how much might that man deserve of
+      me who would right her!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick then said: &ldquo;Is there any way to show such friendship? I do
+      love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were as possible,&rdquo; said Beatrice, &ldquo;for me to say I
+      loved nothing in the world so well as you; but believe me not, and yet I
+      lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By my sword,&rdquo; said Benedick, &ldquo;you love me, and I
+      protest I love you. Come, bid me do anything for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kill Claudio,&rdquo; said Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! not for the world,&rdquo; said Benedick; for he loved his
+      friend Claudio and he believed he had been imposed upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not Claudio a villain that has slandered, scorned, and
+      dishonored my cousin?&rdquo; said Beatrice. &ldquo;Oh, that I were a man!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear me, Beatrice!&rdquo; said Benedick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Beatrice would hear nothing in Claudio&rsquo;s defense, and she
+      continued to urge on Benedick to revenge her cousin&rsquo;s wrongs; and
+      she said: &ldquo;Talk with a man out of the window? a proper saying! Sweet
+      Hero! she is wronged; she is slandered; she is undone. Oh, that I were a
+      man for Claudio&rsquo;s sake! or that I had any friend who would be a man
+      for my sake! But valor is melted into courtesies and compliments. I cannot
+      be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry, good Beatrice,&rdquo; said Benedick. &ldquo;By this hand I
+      love you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it,&rdquo; said
+      Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think you on your soul that Claudio has wronged Hero?&rdquo; asked
+      Benedick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yea,&rdquo; answered Beatrice; CC as sure as I have a thought or a
+      soul.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough,&rdquo; said Benedick. &ldquo;I am engaged; I will challenge
+      him. I will kiss your hand, and so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall
+      render me a dear account! As you hear from me, so think of me. Go, comfort
+      your cousin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Beatrice was thus powerfully pleading with Benedick, and working his
+      gallant temper, by the spirit of her angry words, to engage in the cause
+      of Hero and fight even with his dear friend Claudio, Leonato was
+      challenging the prince and Claudio to answer with their swords the injury
+      they had done his child, who, be affirmed, had died for grief. But they
+      respected his age and his sorrow, and they said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now came Benedick, and be also challenged Claudio to answer with his
+      sword the injury be had done to Hero; and Claudio and the prince said to
+      each other:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beatrice has set him on to do this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio, nevertheless, must have accepted this challenge of Benedick had
+      not the justice of Heaven at the moment brought to pass a better proof of
+      the innocence of Hero than the uncertain fortune of a duel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the challenge of Benedick
+      a magistrate brought Borachio as a prisoner before the prince. Borachio
+      had been overheard talking with one of his companions of the mischief he
+      had been employed by Don John to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Borachio made a full confession to the prince in Claudio&rsquo;s bearing
+      that it was Margaret dressed in her lady&rsquo;s clothes that he had
+      talked with from the window, whom they had mistaken for the lady Hero
+      herself. and no doubt continued on the minds of Claudio and the prince of
+      the innocence of Hero. If a suspicion had remained it must have been
+      removed by the flight of Don John, who, finding his villainies were
+      detected, fled from Messina to avoid the just anger of his brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found he bad falsely
+      accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon bearing his cruel words; and the
+      memory of his beloved Hero&rsquo;s image came over him in the rare
+      semblance that he loved it first; and the prince, asking him if what he
+      heard did not run like iron through his soul, he answered that he felt as
+      if he had taken poison while Borachio was speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the repentant Claudio implored forgiveness of the old man Leonato for
+      the injury he had done his child; and promised that, whatever penance
+      Leonato would lay upon him for his fault in believing the false accusation
+      against his betrothed wife, for her dear sake he would endure it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The penance Leonato enjoined him was to marry the next morning a cousin of
+      Hero&rsquo;s, who, he said, was now his heir, and in person very like
+      Hero. Claudio, regarding the solemn promise he made to Leonato, said he
+      would marry this unknown lady, even though she were an Ethiop. But his
+      heart was very sorrowful, and he passed that night in tears and in
+      remorseful grief at the tomb which Leonato had erected for Hero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the morning came the prince accompanied Claudio to the church, where
+      the good friar and Leonato and his niece were already assembled, to
+      celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato presented to Claudio his promised
+      bride. And she wore a mask, that Claudio might not discover her face. And
+      Claudio said to the lady in the mask:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, before this holy friar. I am your husband, if
+      you will marry me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when I lived I was your other wife,&rdquo; said this unknown
+      lady; and, taking off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was
+      pretended), but Leonato&rsquo;s very daughter, the lady Hero herself. We
+      may be sure that this proved a most agreeable surprise to Claudio, who
+      thought her dead, so that be could scarcely for joy believe his eyes; and
+      the prince, who was equally amazed at what he saw, exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not this Hero, Hero that was dead?&rdquo;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato replied, &ldquo;She died, my lord, but while her slander lived.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle, after the
+      ceremony was ended, and was proceeding to marry them when he was
+      interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at the same time to
+      Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this match, and Benedick
+      challenging her with her love for him, which he had learned from Hero, a
+      pleasant explanation took place; and they found they had both been tricked
+      into a belief of love, which had never existed, and had become lovers in
+      truth by the power of a false jest. But the affection which a merry
+      invention had cheated them into was grown too powerful to be shaken by a
+      serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry, he was resolved
+      to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say against it; and
+      he merrily kept up the jest and swore to Beatrice that he took her but for
+      pity, and because he heard she was dying of love for him; and Beatrice
+      protested that she yielded but upon great persuasion, and partly to save
+      his life, for she heard he was in a consumption. So these two mad wits
+      were reconciled and made a match of it, after Claudio and Hero were
+      married; and to complete the history, Don John, the contriver of the
+      villainy, was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina; and a
+      @@brave punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented man to see the joy
+      and feastings which, by the disappointment of his plots, took place in the
+      palace in Messina.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>AS YOU LIKE IT</h2>
+    <p>
+      During the time that France was divided into provinces (or dukedoms, as
+      they were called) there reigned in one of these provinces a usurper who
+      had deposed and banished his elder brother, the lawful duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke who was thus driven from his dominions retired with a few
+      faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good duke lived
+      with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a voluntary exile for
+      his sake, while their land and revenues enriched the false usurper; and
+      custom soon made the life of careless ease they led here more sweet to
+      them than the pomp and uneasy splendor of a courtier&rsquo;s life. Here
+      they lived like the old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many
+      noble youths daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time
+      carelessly, as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they
+      lay along under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the
+      playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these poor
+      dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of the forest, that
+      it grieved them to be forced to kill them to supply themselves with
+      venison for their food. When the cold winds of winter made the duke feel
+      the change of his adverse fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true counselors;
+      they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my condition; and though
+      they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing like so keen as that of
+      unkindness and ingratitude. I find that howsoever men speak against
+      adversity, yet some sweet uses are to be extracted from it; like the
+      jewel, precious for medicine, which is taken from the head of the venomous
+      and despised toad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from everything
+      that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn, in that life of his,
+      remote from public haunts, he could find tongues in trees, books in the
+      running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the usurper,
+      Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still retained in his court
+      as a companion for his own daughter, Celia. A strict friendship subsisted
+      between these ladies, which the disagreement between their fathers did not
+      in the least interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her power to
+      make amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father in deposing
+      the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her father&rsquo;s
+      banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper, made Rosalind
+      melancholy, Celia&rsquo;s whole care was to comfort and console her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to Rosalind,
+      saying, &ldquo;I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be merry,&rdquo; a
+      messenger entered from the duke, to tell them that if they wished to see a
+      wrestling-match, which was just going to begin, they must come instantly
+      to the court before the palace; and Celia, thinking it would amuse
+      Rosalind, agreed to go and see it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In those times wrestling, which is only practised now by country clowns,
+      was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and before fair ladies
+      and princesses. To this wrestling-match, therefore, Celia and Rosalind
+      went. They found that it was likely to prove a very tragical sight; for a
+      large and powerful man, who had been long practised in the art of
+      wrestling and had slain many men in contests of this kind, was just going
+      to wrestle with a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and
+      inexperience in the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be
+      killed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind he said: &ldquo;How now, daughter and
+      niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will take little
+      delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity to this young man, I
+      would wish to persuade him from wrestling. Speak to him, ladies, and see
+      if you can move him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and first
+      Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist from the attempt;
+      and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and with such feeling
+      consideration for the danger he was about to undergo, that, instead of
+      being persuaded by her gentle words to forego his purpose, all his
+      thoughts were bent to distinguish himself by his courage in this lovely
+      lady&rsquo;s eyes. He refused the request of Celia and Rosalind in such
+      graceful and modest words that they felt still more concern for him; he
+      concluded his refusal with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry to deny such fair and excellent ladies anything. But let
+      your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial, wherein if I be
+      conquered there is one shamed that was never gracious; if I am killed,
+      there is one dead that is willing to die. I shall do my friends no wrong,
+      for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have
+      nothing; for I only fill up a place in the world which may be better
+      supplied when I have made it empty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the wrestling-match began. Celia wished the young stranger might
+      not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The friendless state which he
+      said he was in, and that he wished to die, made Rosalind think that he
+      was, like herself, unfortunate; and she pitied him so much, and so deep an
+      interest she took in his danger while he was wrestling, that she might
+      almost be said at that moment to have fallen in love with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble ladies gave
+      him courage and strength, so that he performed wonders; and in the end
+      completely conquered his antagonist, who was so much hurt that for a while
+      he was unable to speak or move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill shown by
+      this young stranger; and desired to know his name and parentage, meaning
+      to take him under his protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the youngest son
+      of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some years; but
+      when he was living he had been a true subject and dear friend of the
+      banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard Orlando was the son of his
+      banished brother&rsquo;s friend, all his liking for this brave young man
+      was changed into displeasure and he left the place in very ill humor.
+      Hating to bear the very name of any of his brother&rsquo;s friends, and
+      yet still admiring the valor of the youth, he said, as he went out, that
+      he wished Orlando had been the son of any other man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son of her
+      father&rsquo;s old friend; and she said to Celia, &ldquo;My father loved
+      Sir Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was his son I would
+      have added tears to my entreaties before he should have ventured.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies then went up to him and, seeing him abashed by the sudden
+      displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and encouraging words to
+      him; and Rosalind, when they were going away, turned back to speak some
+      more civil things to the brave young son of her father&rsquo;s old friend,
+      and taking a chain from off her neck, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentleman, wear this for me. I am out of suits with fortune, or I
+      would give you a more valuable present.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the ladies were alone, Rosalind&rsquo;s talk being still of Orlando,
+      Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love with the handsome
+      young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible you should fall in love so suddenly?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rosalind replied, &ldquo;The duke, my father, loved his father dearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Celia, &ldquo;does it therefore follow that you
+      should love his son dearly?. For then I ought to hate him, for my father
+      hated his father; yet do not hate Orlando.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick, being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys&rsquo;s son,
+      which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had among the
+      nobility, and having been for some time displeased with his niece because
+      the people praised her for her virtues and pitied her for her good father&rsquo;s
+      sake, his malice suddenly broke out against her; and while Celia and
+      Rosalind were talking of Orlando, Frederick entered the room and with
+      looks full of anger ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the palace and
+      follow her father into banishment, telling Celia, who in vain pleaded for
+      her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not then,&rdquo; said Celia, &ldquo;entreat you to let her
+      stay, for I was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know
+      her worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the same
+      instant, learned, played, and eat together, I cannot live out of her
+      company.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick replied: &ldquo;She is too subtle for you; her smoothness, her
+      very silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they pity her. You
+      are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more bright and virtuous
+      when she is gone; therefore open not your lips in her favor, for the doom
+      which I have passed upon her is irrevocable.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let Rosalind
+      remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany her; and, leaving
+      her father&rsquo;s palace that night, she went along with her friend to
+      seek Rosalind&rsquo;s father, the banished duke, in the forest of Arden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before they set out Celia considered that it would be unsafe for two young
+      ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore; she therefore
+      proposed that they should disguise their rank by dressing themselves like
+      country maids. Rosalind said it would be a still greater protection if one
+      of them was to be dressed like a man. And so it was quickly agreed on
+      between them that, as Rosalind was the tallest, she should wear the dress
+      of a young countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass,
+      and that they should say they were brother and sister; and Rosalind said
+      she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of Aliena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray their
+      expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long travel; for the
+      forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the boundaries of the duke&rsquo;s
+      dominions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede, as she must now be called) with her manly
+      garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The faithful friendship Celia
+      had shown in accompanying Rosalind so many weary miles made the new
+      brother, in recompense for this true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as if
+      he were indeed Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the
+      gentle village maiden, Aliena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When at last they came to the forest of Arden they no longer found the
+      convenient inns and good accommodations they had met with on the road,
+      and, being in want of food and rest, Ganymede, who had so merrily cheered
+      his sister with pleasant speeches and happy remarks all the way, now owned
+      to Aliena that he was so weary he could find in his heart to disgrace his
+      man&rsquo;s apparel and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could go
+      no farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect that it was a man&rsquo;s
+      duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel; and to seem
+      courageous to his new sister, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, have a good heart, my sister Aliena. We are now at the end of
+      our travel, in the forest of Arden.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But feigned manliness and forced courage would no longer support them;
+      for, though they were in the forest of Arden, they knew not where to find
+      the duke. And here the travel of these weary ladies might have come to a
+      sad conclusion, for they might have lost themselves and perished for want
+      of food, but, providentially, as they were sitting on the grass, almost
+      dying with fatigue and hopeless of any relief, a countryman chanced to
+      pass that way, and Ganymede once more tried to speak with a manly
+      boldness, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shepherd, if love or gold can in this desert place procure us
+      entertainment, I pray you bring us where we may rest ourselves; for this
+      young maid, my sister, is much fatigued with traveling, and faints for
+      want of food.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and that his
+      master&rsquo;s house was just going to be sold, and therefore they would
+      find but poor entertainment; but that if they would go with him they
+      should be welcome to what there was. They followed the man, the near
+      prospect of relief giving them fresh strength, and bought the house and
+      sheep of the shepherd, and took the man who conducted them to the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      house to wait on them; and being by this means so fortunately provided
+      with a neat cottage, and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to
+      stay here till they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they began to
+      like their new way of life, and almost fancied themselves the shepherd and
+      shepherdess they feigned to be. Yet sometimes Ganymede remembered be had
+      once been the same Lady Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave Orlando
+      because be was the son of old Sir Rowland, her father&rsquo;s friend; and
+      though Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so many
+      weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that Orlando was
+      also in the forest of Arden. And in this manner this strange event came to
+      pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he died,
+      left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his eldest
+      brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give his brother a
+      good education and provide for him as became the dignity of their ancient
+      house. Oliver proved an unworthy brother, and, disregarding the commands
+      of his dying father, he never put his brother to school, but kept him at
+      home untaught and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the noble
+      qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent father that,
+      without any advantages of education, he seemed like a youth who had been
+      bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so envied the fine person and
+      dignified manners of his untutored brother that at last he wished to
+      destroy him, and to effect this be set on people to persuade him to
+      wrestle with the famous wrestler who, as has been before related, had
+      killed so many men. Now it was this cruel brother&rsquo;s neglect of him
+      which made Orlando say he wished to die, being so friendless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother proved
+      victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he swore he would burn
+      the chamber where Orlando slept. He was overheard making his vow by one
+      that had been an old and faithful servant to their father, and that loved
+      Orlando because he resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went out to meet
+      him when he returned from the duke&rsquo;s palace, and when he saw Orlando
+      the peril his dear young master was in made him break out into these
+      passionate exclamations:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my gentle master, my sweet master! O you memory of Old Sir
+      Rowland! Why are you virtuous? Why are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
+      And why would you be so fond to overcome the famous wrestler? Your praise
+      is come too swiftly home before you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the matter. And
+      then the old man told him how his wicked brother, envying the love all
+      people bore him, and now hearing the fame he had gained by his victory in
+      the duke&rsquo;s palace, intended to destroy him by setting fire to his
+      chamber that night, and in conclusion advised him to escape the danger he
+      was in by instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that
+      was the good old man&rsquo;s name) had brought out with him his own little
+      hoard, and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under your
+      father and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs should become
+      unfit for service. Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed be comfort
+      to my age! Here is the gold. All this I give to you. Let me be your
+      servant; though I look old I will do the service of a younger man in all
+      your business and necessities.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O good old man!&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;how well appears in you
+      the constant service of the old world! You are not for the fashion of
+      these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful wages are
+      spent I shall light upon some means for both our maintenance.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Together, then, this faithful servant and his loved master set out; and
+      Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to pursue, till they
+      came to the forest of Arden, and there they found themselves in the same
+      distress for want of food that Ganymede and Aliena had been. They wandered
+      on, seeking some human habitation, till they were almost spent with hunger
+      and fatigue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adam at last said: &ldquo;O my dear master, I die for want of food. I can
+      go no farther!&rdquo; He then laid himself down, thinking to make that
+      place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up in his
+      arms and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant trees; and he said
+      to him: &ldquo;Cheerly, old Adam. Rest your weary limbs here awhile, and
+      do not talk of dying!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to arrive
+      at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and his friends were
+      just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke being seated on the grass,
+      under no other canopy than the shady covert of some large trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword, intending to take
+      their meat by force, and said: &ldquo;Forbear and eat no more. I must have
+      your food!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold or if he were a rude
+      despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he was dying with hunger;
+      and then the duke told him he was welcome to sit down and eat with them.
+      Orlando, hearing him speak so gently, put up his sword and blushed with
+      shame at the rude manner in which he had demanded their food.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, I pray you,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I thought that all
+      things had been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of
+      stern command; but whatever men you are that in this desert, under the
+      shade of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours of time,
+      if ever you have looked on better days, if ever you have been where bells
+      have knolled to church, if you have ever sat at any good man&rsquo;s
+      feast, if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a tear and know what it is
+      to pity or be pitied, may gentle speeches now move you to do me human
+      courtesy!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;True it is that we are men (as you say) who have
+      seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in this wild
+      forest, we have lived in towns and cities and have with holy bell been
+      knolled to church, have sat at good men&rsquo;s feasts, and from our eyes
+      have wiped the drops which sacred pity has engendered; therefore sit you
+      down and take of our refreshment as much as will minister to your wants.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is an old poor man,&rdquo; answered Orlando, &ldquo;who has
+      limped after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with two
+      sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied I must not touch a
+      bit.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, find him out and bring him hither,&rdquo; said the duke.
+      &ldquo;We will forbear to eat till you return.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food; and
+      presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the duke said, &ldquo;Set down your venerable burthen; you are both
+      welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived and
+      recovered his health and strength again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was the son
+      of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, be took him under his protection,
+      and Orlando and his old servant lived with the duke in the forest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and Aliena came
+      there and (as has been before related) bought the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of Rosalind
+      carved on the trees, and love-sonnets fastened to them, all addressed to
+      Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this could be they met Orlando
+      and they perceived the chain which Rosalind had given him about his neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess Rosalind who,
+      by her noble condescension and favor, had so won his heart that he passed
+      his whole time in carving her name upon the trees and writing sonnets in
+      praise of her beauty; but being much pleased with the graceful air of this
+      pretty shepherd-youth, he entered into conversation with him, and be
+      thought he saw a likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that he
+      had none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede
+      assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are between
+      boys and men, -and with much archness and humor talked to Orlando of a
+      certain lover, &ldquo;who,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;haunts our forest, and
+      spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their barks; and he
+      hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles, all praising this same
+      Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I would give him some good counsel
+      that would soon cure him of his love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke,, and asked
+      Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked Of. The remedy Ganymede
+      proposed, and the counsel he gave him was that Orlando should come every
+      day to the cottage where he and his sister Aliena dwelt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then,&rdquo; said Ganymede, &ldquo;I will feign myself to be
+      Rosalind, and you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would
+      do if I was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways of
+      whimsical ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of your love;
+      and this is the way I propose to cure you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come every day
+      to Ganymede&rsquo;s cottage and feign a playful courtship; and every day
+      Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando called the shepherd
+      Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked over all the fine words and
+      flattering compliments which young men delight to use when they court
+      their mistresses. It does not appear, however, that Ganymede made any
+      progress in curing Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not dreaming that
+      Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the opportunity it gave him of saying
+      all the fond things he had in his heart pleased his fancy almost as well
+      as it did Ganymede&rsquo;s, who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing these
+      fine love-speeches were all addressed to the right person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young people; and
+      the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede happy, let him have his
+      own way and was diverted at the mock-courtship, and did not care to remind
+      Ganymede that the Lady Rosalind had not yet made herself known to the duke
+      her father, whose place of resort in the forest they had learned from
+      Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with him, and
+      the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede answered that he came
+      of as good parentage as he did, which made the duke smile, for he did not
+      suspect the pretty shepherd-boy came of royal lineage. Then seeing the
+      duke look well and happy, Ganymede was content to put off all further
+      explanation for a few days longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man lying
+      asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted itself about his
+      neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided away among the bushes.
+      Orlando went nearer, and then he discovered a lioness lie crouching, with
+      her head on the ground, with a catlike watch, waiting until the sleeping
+      man awaked (for it is said that lions will prey on nothing that is dead or
+      sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by Providence to free the man
+      from the danger of the snake and lioness; but when Orlando looked in the
+      man&rsquo;s face he perceived that the sleeper who was exposed to this
+      double peril was his own brother Oliver, who had so cruelly used him and
+      had threatened to destroy him by fire, and he was almost tempted to leave
+      him a prey to the hungry lioness; but brotherly affection and the
+      gentleness of his nature soon overcame his first anger against his
+      brother; and he drew his sword and attacked the lioness and slew her, and
+      thus preserved his brother&rsquo;s life both from the venomous snake and
+      from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the lioness she
+      had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and, perceiving
+      that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly treated, was saving him
+      from the fury of a wild beast at the risk of his own life, shame and
+      remorse at once seized him, and he repented of his unworthy conduct and
+      besought with many tears his brother&rsquo;s pardon for the injuries he
+      had done him. Orlando rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave
+      him. They embraced each other and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando with
+      a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent on his
+      destruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wound in Orlando&rsquo;s arm having bled very much, he found himself
+      too weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he desired his brother to
+      go and tell Ganymede, &ldquo;whom,&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;I in sport
+      do call my Rosalind,&rdquo; the accident which had befallen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how Orlando had
+      saved his life; and when he had finished the story of Orlando&rsquo;s
+      bravery and his own providential escape he owned to them that he was
+      Orlando&rsquo;s brother who had so cruelly used him; and then be told them
+      of their reconciliation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made such a
+      lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena that she instantly fell in
+      love with him; and Oliver observing how much she pitied the distress he
+      told her he felt for his fault, he as suddenly fell in love with her. But
+      while love was thus stealing into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, he was
+      no less busy with Ganymede, who, hearing of the danger Orlando had been
+      in, and that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when he recovered
+      he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the imaginary
+      character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he did really faint,
+      and, much wondering at the weakness of the young man, he said, &ldquo;Well,
+      if you did counterfeit, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I do,&rdquo; replied Ganymede, truly, &ldquo;but I should have
+      been a woman by right.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he returned back
+      to his brother he had much news to tell him; for, besides the account of
+      Ganymede&rsquo;s fainting at the hearing that Orlando was wounded, Oliver
+      told him how he had fallen in love with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and
+      that she had lent a favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first
+      interview; and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled,
+      that he should marry Aliena, saying that he so well loved her that he
+      would live here as a shepherd and settle his estate and house at home upon
+      Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have my consent,&rdquo; said Orlando. &ldquo;Let your wedding
+      be to-morrow, and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go and persuade
+      your shepherdess to agree to this. She is now alone, for, look, here comes
+      her brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oliver went to Aliena, and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived
+      approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love which had
+      taken place between Oliver and. Aliena, Orlando said be had advised his
+      brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be married on the morrow, and
+      then he added how much he could wish to be married on the same day to his
+      Rosalind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if Orlando
+      really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he should have his
+      wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make Rosalind appear in her own
+      person, and also that Rosalind should be willing to marry Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the Lady Rosalind,
+      he could so easily perform, be pretended he would bring to pass by the aid
+      of magic, which he said he had learned of an uncle who was a famous
+      magician.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he heard,
+      asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By my life I do,&rdquo; said Ganymede. &ldquo;Therefore put on your
+      best clothes, and bid the duke and your friends to your wedding, for if
+      you desire to be married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena, they came
+      into the presence of the duke, and with them also came Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and as yet
+      only one of the brides appearing, there was much of wondering and
+      conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede was making a jest of
+      Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be brought in
+      this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the shepherd-boy could
+      really do what he had promised; and while Orlando was answering that he
+      knew not what to think, Ganymede entered and asked the duke, if he brought
+      his daughter, whether he would consent to her marriage with Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I would,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;if I had kingdoms to
+      give with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede then said to Orlando, &ldquo;And you say you will marry her if I
+      bring her here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I would,&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;if I were king of many
+      kingdoms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and, Ganymede throwing off his
+      male attire, and being once more dressed in woman&rsquo;s apparel, quickly
+      became Rosalind without the power of magic; and Aliena, changing her
+      country garb for her own rich clothes, was with as little trouble
+      transformed into the lady Celia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando that he thought the
+      shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and Orlando said he
+      also had observed the resemblance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind and Celia,
+      in their own clothes, entered, and, no longer pretending that it was by
+      the power of magic that she came there, Rosalind threw herself on her
+      knees before her father and begged his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to
+      all present that she should so suddenly appear, that it might well have
+      passed for magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and
+      told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the forest as
+      a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the marriage; and
+      Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were married at the same time. And
+      though their wedding could not be celebrated in this wild forest with any
+      of the parade of splendor usual on such occasions, yet a happier
+      wedding-day was never passed. And while they were eating their venison
+      under the cool shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be
+      wanting to complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, an
+      unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news that his
+      dukedom was restored to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and hearing that
+      every day men of great worth resorted to the forest of Arden to join the
+      lawful duke in his exile, much envying that his brother should be so
+      highly respected in his adversity, put himself at the head of a large
+      force and advanced toward the forest, intending to seize his brother and
+      put him with all his faithful followers to the sword; but by a wonderful
+      interposition of Providence this bad brother was converted from his evil
+      intention, for just as he entered the skirts of the wild forest he was met
+      by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had much talk and who in
+      the end completely turned his heart from his wicked design. Thenceforward
+      he became a true penitent, and resolved, relinquishing his unjust
+      dominion, to spend the remainder of his days in a religious house. The
+      first act of his newly conceived penitence was to send a messenger to his
+      brother (as has been related) to offer to restore to him his dukedom,
+      which be had usurped so long, and with it the lands and revenues of his
+      friends, the faithful followers of his adversity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came opportunely to
+      heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the wedding of the princesses.
+      Celia complimented her cousin on this good, fortune which had happened to
+      the duke, Rosalind&rsquo;s father, and wished her joy very sincerely,
+      though she herself was no longer heir to the dukedom, but by this
+      restoration which her father had made, Rosalind was now the heir, so
+      completely was the love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of
+      jealousy or of envy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends who had
+      stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy followers, though they
+      had patiently shared his adverse fortune, were very well pleased to return
+      in peace and prosperity, to the palace of their lawful duke.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA</h2>
+    <p>
+      There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose names were
+      Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and uninterrupted friendship
+      had long subsisted. They pursued their studies together, and their hours
+      of leisure were always passed in each other&rsquo;s company, except when
+      Proteus visited a lady he was in love with. And these visits to his
+      mistress,, and this passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only
+      topics on which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
+      himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his friend
+      forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at Proteus, and in
+      pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and declare that no such idle
+      fancies should ever enter his head, greatly preferring (as he said) the
+      free and happy life he led to the anxious hopes and fears of the lover
+      Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must for a
+      time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus, unwilling to
+      part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail upon Valentine not to
+      leave him. But Valentine said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
+      sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping youths have
+      ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained to the sweet glances
+      of your honored Julia, I would entreat you to accompany me, to see the
+      wonders of the world abroad; but since you are a lover, love on still, and
+      may your love be prosperous!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet Valentine, adieu!&rdquo; said Proteus. &ldquo;Think on me
+      when you see some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish
+      me partaker of your happiness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when his
+      friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to Julia, which he
+      gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of a noble
+      spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden dignity too easily to
+      be won; therefore she affected to be insensible of his passion and gave
+      him much uneasiness in the prosecution of his suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not receive it,
+      and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus, and ordered her to
+      leave the room. But she so much wished to see what was written in the
+      letter that she soon called in her maid again; and when Lucetta returned
+      she said, &ldquo;What o&rsquo;clock is it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter than to know
+      the time of day, without answering her question again offered the rejected
+      letter. Julia, angry that her maid should thus take the liberty of seeming
+      to know what she really wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on
+      the floor,, ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
+      retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn letter; but
+      Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in pretended anger,
+      &ldquo;Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you would be fingering
+      them to anger me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
+      fragments. She first made out these words, &ldquo;Love-wounded Proteus&rdquo;;
+      and lamenting over these and such like loving words, which she made out
+      though they were all torn asunder, or, she said WOUNDED (the expression
+      &ldquo;Love-wounded Proteus&rdquo; giving her that idea), she talked to
+      these kind words, telling them she would lodge them in her bosom as in a
+      bed, till their wounds were healed, and that she would kiss each several
+      piece to make amends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike childishness,
+      till, finding herself unable to make out the whole, and vexed at her own
+      ingratitude in destroying such sweet and loving words, as she called them,
+      she wrote a much kinder letter to Proteus than she had ever done before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer to his
+      letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, &ldquo;Sweet love! sweet
+      lines! sweet life!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father. &ldquo;How
+      now?&rdquo; said the old gentleman. &ldquo;What letter are you reading
+      there?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; replied Proteus, &ldquo;it is a letter from my
+      friend Valentine, at Milan.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lend me the letter,&rdquo; said his father. &ldquo;Let me see what
+      news.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no news, my lord,&rdquo; said Proteus, greatly alarmed,
+      &ldquo;but that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
+      daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the partner
+      of his fortune.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how stand you affected to his wish?&rdquo; asked the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As one relying on your lordship&rsquo;s will and not depending on
+      his friendly wish,&rdquo; said Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now it had happened that Proteus&rsquo;s father had just been talking with
+      a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he wondered his
+      lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home while most men were
+      sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;to the wars, to try their fortunes
+      there, and some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
+      universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to the Duke
+      of Milan&rsquo;s court. Your son is fit for any of these things, and it
+      will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper age not to have traveled
+      in his youth.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus&rsquo;s father thought the advice of his friend was very good, and
+      upon Proteus telling him that Valentine &ldquo;wished him with him, the
+      partner of his fortune,&rdquo; he at once determined to send his son to
+      Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this sudden resolution,
+      it being the usual habit of this positive old gentleman to command his
+      son, not reason with him, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My will is the same as Valentine&rsquo;s wish.&rdquo; And seeing
+      his son look astonished, he added: &ldquo;Look not amazed, that I so
+      suddenly resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan&rsquo;s
+      court; for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
+      readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father, who never
+      suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself for telling his
+      father an untruth about Julia&rsquo;s letter, which had brought upon him
+      the sad necessity of leaving her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a time she
+      no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each other a mournful
+      farewell, with many vows of love and constancy. Proteus and Julia
+      exchanged rings, which they both promised to keep forever in remembrance
+      of each other; and thus, taking a sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his
+      journey to Milan, the abode of his friend Valentine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father, in high
+      favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had happened to him of
+      which Proteus did not even dream, for Valentine had given up the freedom
+      of which he used so much to boast, and was become as passionate a lover as
+      Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the Lady Silvia,
+      daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved him; but they concealed
+      their love from the duke, because, although he showed much kindness for
+      Valentine and invited him every day to his palace, yet he designed to
+      marry his daughter to a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia
+      despised this Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent
+      qualities of Valentine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit to Silvia,
+      and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning everything Thurio said
+      into ridicule, when the duke himself entered the room and told Valentine
+      the welcome news of his friend Proteus&rsquo;s arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine said, &ldquo;If I had wished a thing, it would have been to have
+      seen him here!&rdquo; And then he highly praised Proteus to the duke,
+      saying, &ldquo;My lord, though I have been a truant of my time, yet hath
+      my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and is complete in
+      person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a gentleman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Welcome him, then, according to his worth,&rdquo; said the duke.
+      &ldquo;Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I need
+      not bid him do so.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and Valentine
+      introduced him to Silvia, saying, &ldquo;Sweet lady, entertain him to be
+      my fellow-servant to your ladyship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone together,
+      Valentine said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your lady,
+      and how thrives your love?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus replied: &ldquo;My tales of love used to weary you. I know you joy
+      not in a love discourse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, Proteus,&rdquo; returned Valentine, &ldquo;but that life is
+      altered now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of my
+      contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled eyes. O gentle
+      Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so humbled me that I confess
+      there is no woe like his correction nor no such joy on earth as in his
+      service. I now like no discourse except it be of love. Now I can break my
+      fast, dine, sup, and sleep upon the very name of love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the disposition
+      of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend Proteus. But &ldquo;friend&rdquo;
+      Proteus must be called no longer, for the same all-powerful deity Love, of
+      whom they were speaking (yea, even while they were talking of the change
+      he had made in Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he,
+      who had till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect friendship,
+      was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a false friend and a
+      faithless lover; for at the first sight of Silvia all his love for Julia
+      vanished away like a dream, nor did his long friendship for Valentine
+      deter him from endeavoring to supplant him in her affections; and
+      although, as it will always be, when people of dispositions naturally good
+      become unjust, be bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia
+      and become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his sense of
+      duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to his new unhappy
+      passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his love, and
+      how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her father, and told him
+      that, despairing of ever being able to obtain his consent, he had
+      prevailed upon Silvia to leave her father&rsquo;s palace that night and go
+      with him to Mantua; then he showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of
+      which he meant to assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the
+      palace after it was dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend&rsquo;s dearest secrets,
+      it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that Proteus resolved
+      to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the duke,
+      such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal what he was
+      going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke had shown him, and
+      the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell that which else no worldly
+      good should draw from him. He then told all he had heard from Valentine,
+      not omitting the ladder of ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant
+      to conceal them under a long cloak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
+      preferred telling his friend&rsquo;s intention rather than he would
+      conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him not to
+      let Valentine know from whom he had learned this intelligence, but by some
+      artifice to make Valentine betray the secret himself. For this purpose the
+      duke awaited the coming of Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw
+      hurrying toward the palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within
+      his cloak, which he concluded was the rope ladder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, &ldquo;Whither away so fast,
+      Valentine?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May it please your grace,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;there is a
+      messenger that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
+      deliver them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now this falsehood of Valentine&rsquo;s had no better success in the event
+      than the untruth Proteus told his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be they of much import?&rdquo; said the duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more, my lord,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;than to tell my
+      father I am well and happy at your grace&rsquo;s court.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay then,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;no matter; stay with me
+      awhile. I wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his secret
+      from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match his daughter with
+      Thurio, but that she was stubborn and disobedient to his commands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither regarding,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that she is my child nor
+      fearing me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
+      hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have been
+      cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a wife, and
+      turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her beauty be her wedding
+      dower, for me and my possessions she esteems not.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, &ldquo;And
+      what would your grace have me to do in all this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;the lady I would wish to marry is
+      nice and coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
+      fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I would
+      willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am to woo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then practised
+      by young men when they wished to win a fair lady&rsquo;s love, such as
+      presents, frequent visits, and the like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which he sent
+      her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that no man might
+      have access to her by day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;you must visit her by
+      night.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But at night,&rdquo; said the artful duke, who was now coming to
+      the drift of his discourse, &ldquo;her doors are fast locked.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get into the
+      lady&rsquo;s chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,, saying he
+      would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in conclusion advised
+      him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such a cloak as that which he
+      now wore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lend me your cloak,&rdquo; said the duke, who had feigned this long
+      story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon saying
+      these words he caught hold of Valentine&rsquo;s cloak and, throwing it
+      back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but also a letter of
+      Silvia&rsquo;s, which he instantly opened and read; and this letter
+      contained a full account of their intended elopement. The duke, after
+      upbraiding Valentine for his ingratitude in thus returning the favor he
+      had shown him, by endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him
+      from the court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
+      depart that night without even seeing Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at Verona was
+      regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for him at last so far
+      overcame her sense of propriety that she resolved to leave Verona and seek
+      her lover at Milan; and to secure herself from danger on the road she
+      dressed her maiden Lucetta and herself in men&rsquo;s clothes,-. and they
+      set out in this disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was
+      banished from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an inn; and,
+      her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered into conversation
+      with the innkeeper&mdash;or host, as he was called&mdash;thinking by that
+      means to learn some news of Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman (as he
+      took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was of high rank,
+      spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a good-natured man, he was sorry to
+      see him look so melancholy; and to amuse his young guest he offered to
+      take him to hear some fine music, with which, he said, a gentleman that
+      evening was going to serenade his mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not well know
+      what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had taken, for she knew
+      he had loved her for her noble maiden pride and dignity of character, and
+      she feared she should lower herself in his esteem; and this it was that
+      made her wear a sad and thoughtful countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear the
+      music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
+      different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for there,
+      to her heart&rsquo;s sorrow, she beheld her lover, the inconstant Proteus,
+      serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and addressing discourse of love
+      and admiration to her. And Julia overheard Silvia from a window talk with
+      Proteus, and reproach him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his
+      ingratitude his friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not
+      choosing to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
+      faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the ungenerous
+      conduct of his false friend, Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet did she
+      still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had lately parted with
+      a servant, she contrived, with the assistance of her host, the friendly
+      innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus as a page; and Proteus knew not she
+      was Julia, and he sent her with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia,
+      and he even sent by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at
+      Verona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to find that
+      Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and Julia&mdash;or the page
+      Sebastian, as she was called, entered into conversation with Silvia about
+      Proteus&rsquo;s first love, the forsaken Lady Julia. She putting in (as
+      one may say) a good word for herself, said she knew Julia; as well she
+      might, being herself the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia
+      loved her master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her.
+      And then she with a pretty equivocation went on: &ldquo;Julia is about my
+      height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the same as
+      mine.&rdquo; And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in her boy&rsquo;s
+      attire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly forsaken by the
+      man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring which Proteus had sent,
+      refused it, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not take
+      it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him. I love thee,
+      gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a purse; I give it you
+      for Julia&rsquo;s sake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These comfortable words coming from her kind rival&rsquo;s tongue cheered
+      the drooping heart of the disguised lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which way to bend
+      his course, being unwilling to return home to his father a disgraced and
+      banished man. As he was wandering over a lonely forest, not far distant
+      from Milan, where he had left his heart&rsquo;s dear treasure, the Lady
+      Silvia, he was set upon by robbers, who demanded his money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that be was
+      going into banishment, and that he had no money, the clothes he had on
+      being all his riches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being struck with
+      his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he would live with them and
+      be their chief, or captain, they would put themselves under his command;
+      but that if he refused to accept their offer they would kill him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would consent
+      to live with them and be their captain, provided they did no outrage on
+      women or poor passengers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read in
+      ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in this situation
+      he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came to pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted upon her
+      no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of following Valentine
+      to Mantua, at which place she had heard her lover had taken refuge; but in
+      this account she was misinformed, for he still lived in the forest among
+      the robbers, hearing the name of their captain, but taking no part in
+      their depredations, and using the authority which they had imposed upon
+      him in no other way than to compel them to show compassion to the
+      travelers they robbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father&rsquo;s palace in
+      company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom she took
+      along with her for protection on the road. She had to pass through the
+      forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt; and one of these robbers
+      seized on Silvia, and would also have taken Eglamour, but he escaped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in, bade her
+      not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her to a cave where
+      his captain lived, and that she need not be afraid, for their captain had
+      an honorable mind and always showed humanity to women. Silvia found little
+      comfort in hearing she was going to be carried as a prisoner before the
+      captain of a lawless banditti.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Valentine,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;this I endure for thee!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he was
+      stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the disguise of a
+      page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had traced her steps to this
+      forest. Proteus now rescued her from the hands the robber; but scarce had
+      she time to thank him for the service he had done her before be began to
+      distress her afresh with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing
+      her to consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was standing
+      beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the great service which
+      Proteus had just done to Silvia should win her to show him some favor,
+      they were all strangely surprised with the sudden appearance of Valentine,
+      who, having heard his robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console
+      and relieve her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being caught by
+      his friend that he was all at once seized with penitence and remorse; and
+      he expressed such a lively sorrow for the injuries he had done to
+      Valentine that Valentine, whose nature was noble and generous, even to a
+      romantic degree, not only forgave and restored him to his former place in
+      his friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
+      give it up to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this strange
+      offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this new-found virtue to
+      refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all employed in recovering her, else
+      would Silvia have been offended at being thus made over to Proteus, though
+      she could scarcely think that Valentine would long persevere in this
+      overstrained and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from
+      the fainting fit, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to Silvia.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave to Julia
+      in return for that which he received from her and which he had sent by the
+      supposed page to Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is this?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;This is Julia&rsquo;s ring. How
+      came you by it, boy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia answered, &ldquo;Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
+      hath brought it hither.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that the page
+      Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and the proof she had
+      given of her constancy and true love so wrought in him that his love for
+      her returned into his heart, and he took again his own dear lady and
+      joyfully resigned all pretensions to the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had
+      so well deserved her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
+      reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when they were
+      surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and Thurio, who came there
+      in pursuit of Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying, &ldquo;Silvia
+      is mine.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner: &ldquo;Thurio,
+      keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours, you shall embrace
+      your death. Here she stands, take but possession of her with a touch! I
+      dare you but to breathe upon my love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back, and said
+      he cared not for her and that none but a fool would fight for a girl who
+      loved him not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great anger,
+      &ldquo;The more base and degenerate in you to take such means for her as
+      you have done and leave her on such slight conditions.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then turning to Valentine he said: &ldquo;I do applaud your spirit,
+      Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress&rsquo;s love. You shall have
+      Silvia, for you have well deserved her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke&rsquo;s hand and
+      accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter with
+      becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute to entreat
+      the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom he had associated in
+      the forest, assuring him that when reformed and restored to society there
+      would be found among them many good, and fit for great employment; for the
+      most of them had been banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather
+      than for any black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the&rsquo;
+      ready duke consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
+      friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted faults, to
+      be present at the recital of the whole story of his loves and falsehoods
+      before the duke. And the shame of the recital to his awakened conscience
+      was judged sufficient punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four,
+      returned back to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence
+      of the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>THE MERCHANT OF VENICE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, the Jew, lived at Venice. He was a usurer who had amassed an
+      immense fortune by lending money at great interest to Christian merchants.
+      Shylock, being a hard-hearted man, exacted the payment of the money he
+      lent with such severity that he was much disliked by all good men, and
+      particularly by Antonio, a young merchant of Venice; and Shylock as much
+      hated Antonio, because he used to lend money to people in distress, and
+      would never take any interest for the money he lent; therefore there was
+      great enmity between this covetous Jew and the generous merchant Antonio.
+      Whenever Antonio met Shylock on the Rialto, (or Exchange) he used to
+      reproach him with his usuries and hard dealings, which the Jew would bear
+      with seeming patience, while he secretly meditated revenge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio was the kindest man that lived, the best conditioned, and had the
+      most unwearied spirit in doing courtesies; indeed, he was one in whom the
+      ancient Roman honor more appeared than in any that drew breath in Italy.
+      He was greatly beloved by all his fellow-citizens; but the friend who was
+      nearest and dearest to his heart was Bassanio, a noble Venetian, who,
+      having but a small patrimony, had nearly exhausted his little fortune by
+      living in too expensive a manner for his slender means, at young men of
+      high rank with small fortunes are too apt to do. Whenever Bassanio wanted
+      money Antonio assisted him; and it seemed as if they had but one heart and
+      one purse between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day Bassanio came to Antonio and told him that he wished to repair his
+      fortune by a wealthy marriage with a lady whom he dearly loved, whose
+      father, that was lately dead, had left her sole heiress to a large estate;
+      and that in her father&rsquo;s lifetime he used to visit at her house,
+      when he thought he had observed this lady had sometimes from her eyes sent
+      speechless messages that seemed to say he would be no unwelcome suitor;
+      but not having money to furnish himself with an appearance befitting the
+      lover of so rich an heiress, he besought Antonio to add to the many favors
+      he had shown him by lending him three thousand ducats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio had no money by him at that time to lend his friend; but expecting
+      soon to have. some ships come home laden with merchandise, he said he
+      would go to Shylock, the rich moneylender, and borrow the money upon the
+      credit of those ships.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio and Bassanio went together to Shylock, and Antonio asked the Jew
+      to lend him three thousand ducats upon any interest he should require, to
+      be paid out of the merchandise contained in his ships at sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this, Shylock thought within himself: &ldquo;If I can once catch him on
+      the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our
+      Jewish nation; he lends out money gratis; and among the merchants he rails
+      at me and my well-earned bargains, which he calls interest. Cursed be my
+      tribe if I forgive him!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio, finding be was musing within himself and did not answer, and
+      being impatient for the money, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shylock, do you hear? Will you lend the money?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this question the Jew replied: &ldquo;Signor Antonio, on the Rialto
+      many a time and often you have railed at me about my moneys and my
+      usuries, and I have borne it with a patient shrug, for sufferance is the
+      badge of all our tribe; and then you have called me unbeliever, cutthroat
+      dog, and spit upon my Jewish garments, and spurned at me with your foot,
+      as if I was a cur. Well, then, it now appears you need my help, and you
+      come to me and say, &lsquo;Shylock, lend me moneys.&rsquo; Has a dog
+      money? Is it possible a cur should lend three thousand ducats? Shall I
+      bend low and say, &lsquo;Fair sir, you spit upon me on Wednesday last;
+      another time you called me dog, and for these courtesies I am to lend you
+      moneys.&rdquo;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio replied: &ldquo;I am as like to call you so again, to spit on you
+      again, and spurn you, too. If you will lend me this money, lend it not to
+      me as to a friend, but rather lend it to me as to an enemy, that, if I
+      break, you may with better face exact the penalty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, look you,&rdquo; said Shylock, &ldquo;how you storm! I would
+      be friends with you and have your love. I will forget the shames you have
+      put upon me. I will supply your wants and take no interest for my money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seemingly kind offer greatly surprised Antonio; and then Shylock,
+      still pretending kindness and that all he did was to gain Antonio&rsquo;s
+      love, again said he would lend him the three thousand ducats, and take no
+      interest for his money; only Antonio should go with him to a lawyer and
+      there sign in merry sport a bond that, if he did not repay the money by a
+      certain day, he would forfeit a pound of flesh, to be cut off from any
+      part of his body that Shylock pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Content,&rdquo; said Antonio. &ldquo;I will sign to this bond, and
+      say there is much kindness in the Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio said Antonio should not sign to such a bond for him; but still
+      Antonio insisted that he would sign it, for that before the day of payment
+      came his ships would return laden with many times the value of the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, hearing this debate, exclaimed: &ldquo;O Father Abraham, what
+      suspicious people these Christians are! Their own hard dealings teach them
+      to suspect the thoughts of others. I pray you tell me this, Bassanio: if
+      he should break his day, what should I gain by the exaction of the
+      forfeiture? A pound of man&rsquo;s flesh, taken from a man, is not so
+      estimable, profitable, neither, as the flesh of mutton or beef. I say, to
+      buy his favor I offer this friendship: if he will take it, so; if not,
+      adieu.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, against the advice of Bassanio, who, notwithstanding all the Jew
+      had said of his kind intentions, did not like his friend should run the
+      hazard of this shocking penalty for his sake, Antonio signed the bond,
+      thinking it really was (as the Jew said) merely in sport.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rich heiress that Bassanio wished to marry lived near Venice, at a
+      place called Belmont. Her name was Portia, and in the graces of her person
+      and her mind she was nothing inferior to that Portia, of whom we read, who
+      was Cato&rsquo;s daughter and the wife of Brutus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio being so kindly supplied with money by his friend Antonio, at the
+      hazard of his life, set out for Belmont with a splendid train and attended
+      by a gentleman of the name of Gratiano.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time consented
+      to accept of him for a husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio confessed to Portia that he had no fortune and that his high
+      birth and noble ancestry were all that he could boast of; she, who loved
+      him for his worthy qualities and had riches enough not to regard wealth in
+      a husband, answered, with a graceful modesty, that she would wish herself
+      a thousand times more fair, and ten thousand times more rich, to be more
+      worthy of him; and then the accomplished Portia prettily dispraised
+      herself and said she was an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, yet
+      not so old but that she could learn, and that she would commit her gentle
+      spirit to be directed and governed by him in all things; and she said:
+      &ldquo;Myself and what is mine to you and yours is now converted. But
+      yesterday, Bassanio, I was the lady of this fair mansion, queen of myself,
+      and mistress over these servants; and now this house, these servants, and
+      myself are yours, my lord; I give them with this ring,&rdquo; presenting a
+      ring to Bassanio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio was so overpowered with gratitude and wonder at the gracious
+      manner in which the rich and noble Portia accepted of a man of his humble
+      fortunes that he could not express his joy
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      and reverence to the dear lady who so honored him, by anything but broken
+      words of love and thankfulness; and, taking the ring, he vowed never to
+      part with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia&rsquo;s waiting-maid, were in attendance upon
+      their lord and lady when Portia so gracefully promised to become the
+      obedient wife of Bassanio; and Gratiano, wishing Bassanio and the generous
+      lady joy, desired permission to be married at the same time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all my heart, Gratiano,&rdquo; said Bassanio, &ldquo;if you
+      can get a wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano then said that he loved the Lady Portia&rsquo;s fair
+      waiting-gentlewoman, Nerissa, and that she had promised to be his wife if
+      her lady married Bassanio. Portia asked Nerissa if this was true. Nerissa
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam, it is so, if you approve of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia willingly consenting, Bassanio pleasantly said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then our wedding-feast shall be much honored by your marriage,
+      Gratiano.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The happiness of these lovers was sadly crossed at this moment by the
+      entrance of a messenger, who brought a letter from Antonio containing
+      fearful tidings. When Bassanio read Antonio&rsquo;s letter, Portia feared
+      it was to tell him of the death of some dear friend, he looked so pale;
+      and, inquiring what was the news which bad so distressed him, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sweet Portia, here are a few of the unpleasantest words that
+      ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, when I first imparted my love to you, I
+      freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins; but I should have
+      told you that I had less than nothing, being in debt.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio then told Portia what has been here related, of his borrowing the
+      money of Antonio, and of Antonio&rsquo;s procuring it of Shylock the Jew,
+      and of the bond by which Antonio had engaged to forfeit a pound of flesh
+      if it was not repaid by a certain day: and then Bassanio read Antonio&rsquo;s
+      letter, the words of which were:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sweet Bassanio, my ships are all lost, my bond to the Jew is forfeited,
+      and since in paying it is impossible I should live, I could wish, to see
+      you at my death; notwithstanding, use your pleasure. If your love for me
+      do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear love,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;despatch all business
+      and begone; you shall have gold to pay the money twenty times over, before
+      this kind friend shall lose a hair by my Bassanio&rsquo;s fault; and as
+      you are so dearly bought, I will dearly love you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia then said she would be married to Bassanio before he set out, to
+      give him a legal right to her money; and that same day they were married,
+      and Gratiano was also married to Nerissa; and Bassanio and Gratiano, the
+      instant they were married, set out in great haste for Venice, where
+      Bassanio found Antonio in prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day of payment being past, the cruel Jew would not accept of the money
+      which Bassanio offered him, but insisted upon having a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s
+      flesh. A day was appointed to try this shocking cause before the Duke of
+      Venice, and Bassanio awaited in dreadful suspense the event of the trial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Portia parted with her husband she spoke cheeringly to him and bade
+      him bring his dear friend along with him when he returned; yet she feared
+      it would go hard with Antonio, and when she was left alone she began to
+      think and consider within herself if she could by any means be
+      instrumental in saving the life of her dear Bassanio&rsquo;s friend. And
+      notwithstanding when she wished to honor her Bassanio she had said to him,
+      with such a meek and wifelike grace, that she would submit in all things
+      to be governed by his superior wisdom, yet being now called forth into
+      action by the peril of her honored husband&rsquo;s friend, she did nothing
+      doubt her own powers, and by the sole guidance of her own true and perfect
+      judgment at once resolved to go herself to Venice and speak in Antonio&rsquo;s
+      defense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia had a relation who was a counselor in the law; to this gentleman,
+      whose name was Bellario, she wrote, and, stating the case to him, desired
+      his opinion, and that with his advice he would also send her the dress
+      worn by a counselor. When the messenger returned he brought letters from
+      Bellario of advice how to proceed, and also everything necessary for her
+      equipment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia dressed herself and her maid Nerissa in men&rsquo;s apparel, and,
+      putting on the robes of a counselor, she took Nerissa along with her as
+      her clerk; setting out immediately, they arrived at Venice on the very day
+      of the trial. The cause was just going to be heard before the Duke and
+      Senators of Venice in the Senate House when Portia entered this high court
+      of justice and presented a letter from Bellario, in which that learned
+      counselor wrote to the duke, saying he would have come himself to plead
+      for Antonio but that he was prevented by sickness, and he requested that
+      the learned young Doctor Balthasar (so he called Portia) might be
+      permitted to plead in his stead. This the Duke granted, much wondering at
+      the youthful appearance of the stranger, who was prettily disguised by her
+      counselor&rsquo;s robes and her large wig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now began this important trial. Portia looked around her and she saw
+      the merciless Jew; and she saw Bassanio, but he knew her not in her
+      disguise. He was standing beside Antonio, in an agony of distress and fear
+      for his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The importance of the arduous task Portia had engaged in gave this tender
+      lady courage, and she boldly proceeded in the duty she had undertaken to
+      perform. And first of all she addressed herself to Shylock; and allowing
+      that he had a right by the Venetian law to have the forfeit expressed in
+      the bond, she spoke so sweetly of the noble quality of MERCY as would have
+      softened any heart but the unfeeling Shylock&rsquo;s, saying that it
+      dropped as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath; and how
+      mercy was a double blessing, it blessed him that gave and him that
+      received it; and how it became monarchs better than their crowns, being an
+      attribute of God Himself; and that earthly power came nearest to God&rsquo;s
+      in proportion as mercy tempered justice; and she bade Shylock remember
+      that as we all pray for mercy, that same prayer should teach us to show
+      mercy. Shylock only answered her by desiring to have the penalty forfeited
+      in the bond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he not able to pay the money?&rdquo; asked Portia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio then offered the Jew the payment of the three thousand ducats as
+      many times over as he should desire; which Shylock refusing, and still
+      insisting upon having a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s flesh, Bassanio begged
+      the learned young counselor would endeavor to wrest the law a little, to
+      save Antonio&rsquo;s life. But Portia gravely answered that laws once
+      established never be altered. Shylock, hearing Portia say that the law
+      might not be altered, it seemed to him that she was pleading in his favor,
+      and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A Daniel is come to judgment! O wise young judge, how I do honor
+      you! How much elder are you than your looks!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia now desired Shylock to let her look at the bond; and when she had
+      read it she said: &ldquo;This bond is forfeited, and by this the Jew may
+      lawfully claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off nearest Antonio&rsquo;s
+      heart.&rdquo; Then she said to Shylock, &ldquo;Be merciful; take the money
+      and bid me tear the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But no mercy would the cruel Shylock show; and he said, &ldquo;By my soul,
+      I swear there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, Antonio,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;you must prepare
+      your bosom for the knife.&rdquo; And while Shylock was sharpening a long
+      knife with great eagerness to cut off the pound of flesh, Portia said to
+      Antonio, &ldquo;Have you anything to say?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio with a calm resignation replied that he had but little to say, for
+      that he had prepared his mind for death. Then he said to Bassanio:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, Bassanio! Fare you well! Grieve not that I am
+      fallen into this misfortune for you. Commend me to your honorable wife and
+      tell her how I have loved you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio in the deepest affliction replied: &ldquo;Antonio, I am married
+      to a wife who is as dear to me as life itself; but life itself, my wife,
+      and all the world are not esteemed with me above your life. I would lose
+      all, I would sacrifice all to this devil here, to deliver you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia hearing this, though the kind-hearted lady was not at all offended
+      with her husband for expressing the love he owed to so true a friend as
+      Antonio in these strong terms, yet could not help answering:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wife would give you little thanks, if she were present, to
+      hear you make this offer.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Gratiano, who loved to copy what his lord did, thought he must
+      make a speech like Bassanio&rsquo;s, and he said, in Nerissa&rsquo;s
+      hearing, who was writing in her clerk&rsquo;s dress by the side of Portia:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a wife whom I protest I love. I wish she were in heaven if
+      she could but entreat some power there to change the cruel temper of this
+      currish Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well you wish this behind her back, else you would have but
+      an unquiet house,&rdquo; said Nerissa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock now cried out, impatiently: &ldquo;We trifle time. I pray
+      pronounce the sentence.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now all was awful expectation in the court, and every heart was full
+      of grief for Antonio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia asked if the scales were ready to weigh the flesh; and she said to
+      the Jew, &ldquo;Shylock, you must have some surgeon by, lest he bleed to
+      death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, whose whole intent was that Antonio should bleed to death, said,
+      &ldquo;It is not so named in the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia replied: &ldquo;It is not so named in the bond, but what of that?
+      It were good you did so much for charity.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this all the answer Shylock would make was, &ldquo;I cannot find it; it
+      is not in the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s flesh
+      is thine. The law allows it and the court awards it. And you may cut this
+      flesh from off his breast. The law allows it and the court awards it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Shylock exclaimed: &ldquo;O wise and upright judge! A Daniel is come
+      to judgment!&rdquo; And then he sharpened his long knife again, and
+      looking eagerly on Antonio, he said, &ldquo;Come, prepare!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry a little, Jew,&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;There is something
+      else. This bond here gives you no drop of blood; the words expressly are,
+      &lsquo;a pound of flesh.&rsquo; If in the cutting off the pound of flesh
+      you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by the law
+      to be confiscated to the state of Venice.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now as it was utterly impossible for Shylock to cut off the pound of flesh
+      without shedding some of Antonio&rsquo;s blood, this wise discovery of
+      Portia&rsquo;s, that it was flesh and not blood that was named in the
+      bond, saved the life of Antonio; and all admiring the wonderful sagacity
+      of the young counselor who had so happily thought of this expedient,
+      plaudits resounded from every part of the Senate House; and Gratiano
+      exclaimed, in the words which Shylock had used:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O wise and upright judge! Mark, Jew, a Daniel is come to judgment!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, finding himself defeated in his cruel intent, said, with a
+      disappointed look, that he would take the money. And Bassanio, rejoiced
+      beyond measure at Antonio&rsquo;s unexpected deliverance, cried out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the money!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Portia stopped him, saying: &ldquo;Softly; there is no haste. The Jew
+      shall have nothing but the penalty. Therefore prepare, Shylock, to cut off
+      the flesh; but mind you shed no blood; nor do not cut off more nor less
+      than just a pound; be it more or less by one poor scruple, nay, if the
+      scale turn but by the weight of a single hair, you are condemned by the
+      laws of Venice to die, and all your wealth is forfeited to the state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me my money and let me go,&rdquo; said Shylock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have it ready,&rdquo; said Bassanio. &ldquo;Here it is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped him,
+      saying: &ldquo;Tarry, Jew. I have yet another hold upon you. By the laws
+      of Venice your wealth is forfeited to the state for having conspired
+      against the life of one of its citizens, and your life lies at the mercy
+      of the duke; therefore, down on your knees and ask him to pardon you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then said to Shylock: &ldquo;That you may see the difference of
+      our Christian spirit, I pardon you your life before you ask it. Half your
+      wealth belongs to Antonio, the other half comes to the state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The generous Antonio then said that he would give up his share of Shylock&rsquo;s
+      wealth if Shylock would sign a deed to make it over at his death to his
+      daughter and her husband; for Antonio knew that the Jew had an only
+      daughter who had lately married against his consent a young Christian
+      named Lorenzo, a friend of Antonio&rsquo;s, which had so offended Shylock
+      that he had disinherited her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Jew agreed to this; and being thus disappointed in his revenge and
+      despoiled of his riches, he said: &ldquo;I am ill. Let me go home. Send
+      the deed after me, and I will sign over half my riches to my daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get thee gone, then,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;and sign it; and
+      if you repent your cruelty and turn Christian, the state will forgive you
+      the fine of the other half of your riches.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke now released Antonio and dismissed the court. He then highly
+      praised the wisdom and ingenuity of the young counselor and invited him
+      home to dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, who meant to return to Belmont before her husband, replied,
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank your Grace, but I must away directly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke said he was sorry he had not leisure to stay and dine with him,
+      and, turning to Antonio, he added, &ldquo;Reward this gentleman; for in my
+      mind you are much indebted to him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke and his senators left the court; and then Bassanio said to
+      Portia: &ldquo;Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Antonio have by your
+      wisdom been this day acquitted of grievous penalties, and I beg you will
+      accept of the three thousand ducats due unto the Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we shall stand indebted to you over and above,&rdquo; said
+      Antonio, &ldquo;in love and service evermore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia could not be prevailed upon to accept the money. But upon Bassanio
+      still pressing her to accept of some reward, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your gloves. I will wear them for your sake.&rdquo; And
+      then Bassanio taking off his gloves, she espied the ring which she had
+      given him upon his finger. Now it was the ring the wily lady wanted to get
+      from him to make a merry jest when she saw her Bassanio again, that made
+      her ask him for his gloves; and she said, when she saw the ring, &ldquo;And
+      for your love, I will take this ring from you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio was sadly distressed that the counselor should ask him for the
+      only thing he could not part with, and he replied, in great confusion,
+      that be could not give him that ring, because it was his wife&rsquo;s gift
+      and he had vowed never to part with it; but that he would give him the
+      most valuable ring in Venice, and find it out by proclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Portia affected to be affronted, and left the court, saying,
+      &ldquo;You teach me, sir, how a beggar should be answered.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Bassanio,&rdquo; said Antonio, &ldquo;let him have the ring. Let My
+love and the great service he has done for me be valued against your
+wife&rsquo;s displeasure.&rdquo; Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful,
+yielded, and sent Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the
+&ldquo;clerk&rdquo; Nerissa, who had also given Gratiano a ring, begged his
+ring, and Gratiano (not choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave
+it to her. And there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got
+home, how they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings and swear
+that they had given them as a present to some woman.
+</p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which never
+      fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a good action. Her
+      cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw: the moon never seemed to
+      shine so bright before; and when that pleasant moon was hid behind a
+      cloud, then a light which she saw from her house at Belmont as well
+      pleased her charmed fancy, and she said to Nerissa:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle
+      throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.&rdquo; And
+      hearing the sound of music from her house, she said, &ldquo;Methinks that
+      music sounds much sweeter than by day.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and, dressing themselves in
+      their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of their husbands, who soon
+      followed them with Antonio; and Bassanio presenting his dear friend to the
+      Lady Portia, the congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly
+      over when they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarreling in a corner of
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A quarrel already?&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano replied, &ldquo;Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that Nerissa
+      gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler&rsquo;s knife:
+      &lsquo;Love me, and leave me not.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?&rdquo; said
+      Nerissa. &ldquo;You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would
+      keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to the lawyer&rsquo;s
+      clerk. I know you gave it to a woman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By this hand,&rdquo; replied Gratiano, &ldquo;I gave it to a youth,
+      a kind Of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; be was
+      clerk to the young counselor that by his wise pleading saved Antonio&rsquo;s
+      life. This prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could not for my life
+      deny him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia said: &ldquo;You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your wife&rsquo;s
+      first gift. I gave my Lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure be would not
+      part with it for all the world.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, &ldquo;My Lord Bassanio gave
+      his ring away to the counselor, and then the boy, his clerk, that took
+      some pains in writing, he begged my ring.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry and reproached Bassanio for giving
+      away her ring; and she said Nerissa had taught her what to believe, and
+      that she knew some woman had the ring. Bassanio was very unhappy to have
+      so offended his dear lady, and he said with great earnestness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, by my honor, no woman had it, but a civil doctor who refused
+      three thousand ducats of me and begged the ring, which when I denied him
+      he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet Portia? I was so beset
+      with shame for my seeming ingratitude that I was forced to send the ring
+      after him. Pardon me, good lady. Had you been there, I think you would
+      have begged the ring of me to give the worthy doctor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Antonio, &ldquo;I am the unhappy cause of these
+      quarrels.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia bid Antonio not to grieve at that, for that be was welcome
+      notwithstanding; and then Antonio said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I once did lend my body for Bassanio&rsquo;s sake; and but for him
+      to whom your husband gave the ring I should have now been dead. I dare be
+      bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will never more break his
+      faith with you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you shall be his surety,&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;Give him
+      this ring and bid him keep it better than the other.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Bassanio looked at this ring be was strangely surprised to find it
+      was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him how she was the young
+      counselor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and Bassanio found, to his
+      unspeakable wonder and delight, that it was by the noble courage and
+      wisdom of his wife that Antonio&rsquo;s life was saved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Portia again welcomed Antonio, and gave him letters which by some
+      chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account of Antonio&rsquo;s
+      ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived in the harbor. So
+      these tragical beginnings of this rich merchant&rsquo;s story were all
+      forgotten in the unexpected good fortune which ensued; and there was
+      leisure to laugh at the comical adventure of the rings and the husbands
+      that did not know their own wives, Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of
+      rhyming speech, that&mdash;
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+    While he lived, he&rsquo;d fear no other thing<br />
+    So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa&rsquo;s ring.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CYMBELINE</h2>
+    <p>
+      During the time of Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, there reigned in
+      England (which was then called Britain) a king whose name was Cymbeline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline&rsquo;s first wife died when his three children (two sons and a
+      daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest of these children, was
+      brought up in her father&rsquo;s court; but by a strange chance the two
+      sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery when the eldest was but
+      three years of age and the youngest quite an infant; and Cymbeline could
+      never discover what was become of them or by whom they were conveyed away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline was twice married. His second wife was a wicked, plotting woman,
+      and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline&rsquo;s daughter by his first
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son of her
+      own by a former husband (she also having been twice married), for by this
+      means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline to place the crown of Britain
+      upon the head of her son Cloten; for she knew that, if the king&rsquo;s
+      sons were not found, the Princess Imogen must be the king&rsquo;s heir.
+      But this design was prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the
+      consent or even knowledge of her father or the queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen&rsquo;s husband) was the best
+      scholar and most accomplished gentleman of that age. His father died
+      fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after his birth his mother
+      died also for grief at the loss of her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan, took Posthumus
+      (Cymbeline having given him that name because he was born after his father&rsquo;s
+      death), and educated him in his own court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and were
+      playfellows from their infancy; they loved each other tenderly when they
+      were children, and, their affection continuing to increase with their
+      years, when they grew up they privately married.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The disappointed queen soon learned this secret, for she kept spies
+      constantly in watch upon the actions of her stepdaughter, and she
+      immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with Posthumus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could exceed the wrath of Cymbeline when he heard that his
+      daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to marry a subject.
+      He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain and banished him from his native
+      country forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she suffered at
+      losing her husband, offered to procure them a private meeting before
+      Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which place he had chosen for
+      his residence in his banishment. This seeming kindness she showed the
+      better to succeed in her future designs in regard to her son Cloten, for
+      she meant to persuade Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage
+      was not lawful, being contracted without the consent of the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each other. Imogen
+      gave her husband a diamond ring which had been her mother&rsquo;s, and
+      Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and he fastened a bracelet
+      on the arm of his wife, which he begged she would preserve with great
+      care, as a token of his love; they then bade each other farewell, with
+      many vows of everlasting love and fidelity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen remained a solitary and dejected lady in her father&rsquo;s court,
+      and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for his banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of different
+      nations, who were talking freely of ladies, each one praising the ladies
+      of his own country and his own mistress. Posthumus, who had ever his own
+      dear lady in his mind, affirmed that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the
+      most virtuous, wise, and constant lady in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended that a lady
+      of Britain should be so praised above the Roman ladies, his country-women,
+      provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt the constancy of his so highly
+      praised wife; and at length, after much altercation, Posthumus consented
+      to a proposal of Iachimo&rsquo;s that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain
+      and endeavor to gain the love of the married Imogen. They then laid a
+      wager that if Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design he was to
+      forfeit a large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen&rsquo;s favor,
+      and prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so
+      earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the wager
+      was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring which was
+      Imogen&rsquo;s love present when she parted with her husband. Such firm
+      faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen that he thought he ran no
+      hazard in this trial of her honor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance and a courteous
+      welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but when he began to make
+      professions of love to her she repulsed him with disdain, and he soon
+      found that he could have no hope of succeeding in his dishonorable design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have recourse to a
+      stratagem to impose upon Posthumus, and for this purpose he bribed some of
+      Imogen&rsquo;s attendants and was by them conveyed into her bedchamber,
+      concealed in a large trunk, where he remained shut up till Imogen.was
+      retired to rest and had fallen asleep; and then, getting out of the trunk,
+      he examined the chamber with great attention, and wrote down everything he
+      saw there, and particularly noticed a mole which he observed upon Imogen&rsquo;s
+      neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her arm, which Posthumus
+      had given to her, he retired into the chest again; and the next day he set
+      off for Rome with great expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen
+      had given him the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in
+      her chamber. And in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: &ldquo;Her
+      bedchamber,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;was hung with tapestry of silk and
+      silver, the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a
+      piece of work most bravely wrought.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is true,&rdquo; said Posthumus; &ldquo;but this you might have
+      heard spoken of without seeing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the chimney,&rdquo; said Iachimo, &ldquo;is south of the
+      chamber, and the chimneypiece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures
+      livelier expressed.&rdquo; &ldquo;This is a thing you might have likewise
+      heard,&rdquo; said Posthumus; &ldquo;for it is much talked of.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo as accurately described the roof of the chamber; and added,
+      &ldquo;I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking Cupids made
+      of silver, each on one foot standing.&rsquo;&rdquo; He then took out the
+      bracelet, and said: &ldquo;Know you this jewel, sir? She gave me this. She
+      took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty action did outsell her
+      gift, and yet enriched it, too. She gave it me, and said, SHE PRIZED IT
+      ONCE.&rdquo; He last of all described the mole he had observed upon her
+      neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital in an agony of
+      doubt, now broke out into the most passionate exclamations against Imogen.
+      He delivered up the diamond ring to Iachimo which he had agreed to forfeit
+      to him if he obtained the bracelet from Imogen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of Britain,
+      who was one of Imogen&rsquo;s attendants, and had long been a faithful
+      friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he had of his wife&rsquo;s
+      disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take Imogen to Milford Haven, a
+      seaport of Wales, and there kill her. And at the same time he wrote a
+      deceitful letter to Imogen, desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that,
+      finding he could live no longer without seeing her, though he was
+      forbidden upon pain of death to return to Britain, he would come to
+      Milford Haven, at which place he begged she would meet him. She, good,
+      unsuspecting lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired
+      more than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio, and
+      the same night she received the letter she set out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though faithful to
+      Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil deed, disclosed to
+      Imogen the cruel order he had received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband, found
+      herself doomed by that husband to suffer death, was afflicted beyond
+      measure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort and wait with patient fortitude for
+      the time when Posthumus should see and repent his injustice. In the mean
+      time, as she refused in her distress to return to her father&rsquo;s
+      court, he advised her to dress herself in boy&rsquo;s clothes for more
+      security in traveling; to which advice she agreed, and thought in that
+      disguise she would go over to Rome and see her husband, whom, though he
+      had used her so barbarously, she could no-t forget to love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel he left her to her
+      uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but before he
+      departed he gave her a vial of cordial, which he said the queen had given
+      him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen and
+      Posthumus, gave him this vial, which she supposed contained poison, she
+      having ordered her physician to give her some poison, to try its effects
+      (as she said) upon animals; but the physician, knowing her malicious
+      disposition, would not trust her with real poison, but gave her a drug
+      which would do no other mischief than causing a person to sleep with every
+      appearance of death for a few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a
+      choice cordial, he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill
+      upon the road, to take it; and so, with blessings and prayers for her
+      safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he left her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Providence strangely directed Imogen&rsquo;s steps to the dwelling of her
+      two brothers who had been stolen away in their infancy. Bellarius, who
+      stole them away, was a lord in the court of Cymbeline, and, having been
+      falsely accused to the king of treason and banished from the court, in
+      revenge he stole away the two sons of Cymbeline and brought them up in a
+      forest, where he lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge,
+      but he soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children,
+      educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their princely
+      spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as they subsisted by
+      hunting, they were active and hardy, and were always pressing their
+      supposed father to let them seek their fortune in the wars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen&rsquo;s fortune to
+      arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest through which .her road lay
+      to Milford Haven (from which she meant to embark for Rome); and being
+      unable to find any place where she could purchase food, she was, with
+      weariness and hunger, almost dying; for it is not merely putting on a man&rsquo;s
+      apparel that will enable a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the
+      fatigue of wandering about lonely forests like a man.. Seeing this cave,
+      she entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure
+      food. She found the cave empty, but, looking about, she discovered some
+      cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing that she could not wait for an
+      invitation, but sat down and began to eat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, talking to herself, &ldquo;I see a man&rsquo;s
+      life is a tedious one. How tired am I! For two nights together I have made
+      the ground my bed. My resolution helps me, or I should be sick. When
+      Pisanio showed me Milford Haven from the mountain-top, how near it seemed!&rdquo;
+      Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel mandate came across her,
+      and she said, &ldquo;My dear Posthumus, thou art a false one!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their reputed
+      father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home. Bellarius had given
+      them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and they knew no better, but
+      supposed that Bellarius was their father; but the real names of these
+      princes were Guiderius and Arviragus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius entered the cave first, and, seeing Imogen, stopped them,
+      saying: &ldquo; Come not in yet. It eats our victuals, or I should think
+      it was a fairy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, sir?&rdquo; said the young men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jupiter!&rdquo; said Bellarius, again, &ldquo;there is an angel
+      in the cave, or if not, an earthly paragon.&rdquo; So beautiful did Imogen
+      look in her boy&rsquo;s apparel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave and addressed
+      them in these words: &ldquo;Good masters, do not harm me. Before I entered
+      your cave I had thought to have begged or bought what I have eaten.
+      Indeed, I have stolen nothing, nor would I, though I had found gold
+      strewed on the floor. Here is money for my meat, which I would have left
+      on the board when I had made my meal, and parted with prayers for the
+      provider.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They refused her money with great earnestness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see you are angry with me,&rdquo; said the timid Imogen; &ldquo;but,
+      sirs, if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I had
+      not made it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whither are you bound,&rdquo; asked Bellarius, &ldquo;and what is
+      your name?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fidele is my name,&rdquo; answered Imogen. &ldquo;I have a kinsman
+      who is bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford Haven, to whom being going,
+      almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prithee, fair youth,&rdquo; said old Bellarius, &ldquo;do not think
+      us churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in. You
+      are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have better cheer
+      before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their cave with
+      many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or, as they said, HIM)
+      as a brother; and they entered the cave, where (they having killed venison
+      when they were hunting) Imogen delighted them with her neat housewifery,
+      assisting them in preparing their supper; for, though it is not the custom
+      now for young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and
+      Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily
+      expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced their
+      broth, as if Juno had been sick and Fidele were her dieter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then,&rdquo; said Polydore to his brother, &ldquo;how
+      angel-like he sings!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They also remarked to each other that though Fidele smiled so sweetly, yet
+      so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face, as if grief and
+      patience had together taken possession of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near relationship,
+      though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys called her, Fidele)
+      became the doting-piece of her brothers, and she scarcely less loved them,
+      thinking that but for the memory of her dear Posthumus she could live and
+      die in the cave with these wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to
+      stay with them till she was enough rested from the fatigue of traveling to
+      pursue her way to Milford Haven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going out to
+      hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she was unwell.
+      Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband&rsquo;s
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest, was the
+      cause of her illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all the way
+      the noble parts and graceful demeanor of the youth Fidele.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected the cordial Pisanio
+      had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into a sound and
+      deathlike sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore went first
+      into the cave, and, supposing her asleep, pulled off his heavy shoes, that
+      he might tread softly and not awake her (so did true gentleness spring up
+      in the minds of these princely foresters); but he soon discovered that she
+      could not be awakened by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and
+      Polydore lamented over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had
+      never from their infancy been parted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and there
+      celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges, as was then the
+      custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen&rsquo;s two brothers then carried her to a shady covert, and there,
+      laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose to her departed spirit,
+      and, covering her over with leaves and flowers, Polydore said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew thy
+      grave. The pale primrose, that flower most like thy face; the bluebell,
+      like thy clear veins; and the leaf of eglantine, which is not sweeter than
+      was thy breath-all these will I strew over thee. Yea, and the furred moss
+      in winter, when there are no flowers to cover thy sweet corse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed, very
+      sorrowful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen had not been long left alone when, the effect of the sleepy drug
+      going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the slight covering of
+      leaves and flowers they had thrown over her, she arose, and, imagining she
+      had been dreaming, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. How
+      came I here covered with flowers?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing nothing of her
+      new companions, she concluded it was certainly all a dream; and once more
+      Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage, hoping at last she should find her
+      way to Milford Haven, and thence get a passage in some ship bound for
+      Italy; for all her thoughts were still with her husband, Posthumus, whom
+      she intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen knew
+      nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman Emperor
+      Augustus Caesar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a Roman army had
+      landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into the very forest over which
+      Imogen was journeying. With this army came Posthumus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army, he did not mean
+      to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but intended to join
+      the army of Britain and fight in the cause of his king who had banished
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he had so
+      fondly loved, and by his own orders, too (Pisanio having written him a
+      letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that Imogen was dead), sat
+      heavy on his heart, and therefore he returned to Britain, desiring either
+      to be slain in battle or to be put to death by Cymbeline for returning
+      home from banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen, before she reached Milford Haven, fell into the hands of the Roman
+      army, and, her presence and deportment recommending her, she was made a
+      page to Lucius, the Roman general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline&rsquo;s army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they
+      entered this forest Polydore and Cadwal joined the king&rsquo;s army. The
+      young men were eager to engage in acts of valor, though they little
+      thought they were going to fight for their own royal father; and old
+      Bellarius went with them to the battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had long since repented of the injury he had done to Cymbeline in
+      carrying away his sons; and, having been a warrior in his youth, he gladly
+      joined the army to fight for the king he had so injured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the Britons
+      would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed, but for the
+      extraordinary valor of Posthumus and Bellarius and the two sons of
+      Cymbeline. They rescued the king and saved his life, and so entirely
+      turned the fortune of the day that the Britons gained the victory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death he sought
+      for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of Cymbeline, willing
+      to suffer the death which was to be his punishment if he returned from
+      banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners and brought before
+      Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy, Iachimo, who was an officer in the
+      Roman army. And when these prisoners were before the king, Posthumus was
+      brought in to receive his sentence of death; and at this strange juncture
+      of time Bellarius with Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before
+      Cymbeline, to receive the rewards due to the great services they had by
+      their valor done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king&rsquo;s
+      attendants, was likewise present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therefore there were now standing in the king&rsquo;s presence (but with
+      very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with her new master
+      the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio and the false friend
+      Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who
+      had stolen them away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Roman general was the first who spoke; the rest stood silent before
+      the king, though there was many a beating heart among them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise of a
+      peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire. And she knew Iachimo,
+      and she saw a ring on his finger which she perceived to be her own., but
+      she did not know him as yet to have been the author of all her troubles;
+      and she stood before her own father a prisoner of war.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the garb of a
+      boy. &ldquo;It is my mistress,&rdquo; thought he. &ldquo;Since she is
+      living, let the time run on to good or bad.&rdquo; Bellarius knew her,
+      too, and softly said to Cadwal, &ldquo;Is not this boy revived from death?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One sand,&rdquo; replied Cadwal, &ldquo;does not more resemble
+      another than that sweet, rosy lad is like the dead Fidele.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same dead thing alive,&rdquo; said Polydore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Peace, peace,&rdquo; said Bellarius. &ldquo;If it were he, I am
+      sure be would have spoken to us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But we saw him dead,&rdquo;, again whispered Polydore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be silent,&rdquo; replied Bellarius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his own death;
+      and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he had saved his life in
+      the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline to pardon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his protection as
+      his page, was the first (as has been before said) who spoke to the king.
+      He was a man of high courage and noble and this was his speech to the
+      king:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear you take no ransom for your prisoners, but doom them all to
+      death. I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer, death. But there
+      is one thing for which I would entreat.&rdquo; Then bringing Imogen before
+      the king, he said: &ldquo;This boy is a Briton born. Let him be ransomed.
+      He is my page. Never master had a page so kind, so duteous, so diligent on
+      all occasions, so true, so nurselike. He hath done no Briton wrong, though
+      he hath served a Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her not in that
+      disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature spake in his heart, for
+      he said: &ldquo;I have surely seen him; his face appears familiar to me. I
+      know not why or wherefore I say, live, boy, but I give you your life; and
+      ask of me what boon you will and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it
+      be the life of the noblest prisoner I have.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank your Highness,&rdquo; said Imogen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to give any
+      one thing, whatever it might be,. that the person on whom that favor was
+      conferred chose to ask for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They all were attentive to hear what thing the page would ask for; and
+      Lucius, her master, said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will
+      ask for.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, alas!&rdquo; said Imogen. &ldquo;I have other work in hand,
+      good master. Your life I cannot ask for.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon than this:
+      that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had the ring he wore on
+      his finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the torture
+      if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on his finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villainy, in telling,
+      as has been before related, the whole story of his wager with Posthumus
+      and how he had succeeded in imposing upon is credulity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence of his lady
+      cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward and confessed to Cymbeline
+      the cruel sentence which he had enjoined Pisanio to execute upon the
+      princess, exclaiming, wildly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without
+      discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was thus
+      relieved from a weight of guilt and woe, and restored to the good graces
+      of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding his lost
+      daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her former place in his
+      fatherly affection, and not only gave her husband Posthumus his life, but
+      consented to acknowledge him for his son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation to make his
+      confession. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling him they
+      were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of punishments at a
+      season of such universal happiness? To find his daughter living, and his
+      lost sons in the persons of his young deliverers, that he had seen so
+      bravely fight in his defense, was unlooked-for joy indeed!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late master,
+      the Roman general, Lucius, whose life the king, her father, readily
+      granted at her request; and by the mediation of the same Lucius a peace
+      was concluded between the Romans and the Britons which was kept inviolate
+      many years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How Cymbeline&rsquo;s wicked queen, through despair of bringing her
+      projects to pass, and touched with remorse of conscience, sickened and
+      died, having first lived to see her foolish son Cloten slain in a quarrel
+      which he had provoked, are events too tragical to interrupt this happy
+      conclusion by more than merely touching upon. It is sufficient that all
+      were made happy who were deserving; and even the treacherous Iachimo, in
+      consideration of his villainy having missed its final aim, was dismissed
+      without punishment.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>KING LEAR</h2>
+    <p>
+      Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters: Goneril, wife to the Duke of
+      Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and Cordelia, a young maid,
+      for whose love the King of France and Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors,
+      and were at this time making stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government, he being
+      more than fourscore years old, determined to take no further part in state
+      affairs, but to leave the management to younger strengths, that he might
+      have time to prepare for death, which must at no long period ensue. With
+      this intent he called his three daughters to him, to know from their own
+      lips which of them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among
+      them in such proportions as their affection for him should seem to
+      deserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than words
+      could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of her own eyes,
+      dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such professing stuff, which
+      is easy to counterfeit where there is no real love, only a few fine words
+      delivered with confidence being wanted in that case. The king, delighted
+      to hear from her own mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly
+      that her heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon
+      her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had to say.
+      Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her sister, was not a whit
+      behind in her professions, but rather declared that what her sister had
+      spoken came short of the love which she professed to bear for his
+      Highness; in so much that she found all other joys dead in comparison with
+      the pleasure which she took in the love of her dear king and father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he thought; and
+      could do no less, after the handsome assurances which Regan had made, than
+      bestow a third of his kingdom upon her and her husband, equal in size to
+      that which he had already given away to Goneril.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called his joy,
+      he asked what she had to say,thinking no doubt that she would glad his
+      ears with the same loving speeches which her sisters had uttered, or
+      rather that her expressions would be so much stronger than theirs, as she
+      had always been his darling, and favored by him above either of them. But
+      Cordelia, disgusted with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she
+      knew were far from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches
+      were only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that they
+      and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no other reply but
+      this&mdash;that she loved his Majesty according to her duty, neither more
+      nor less.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his favorite
+      child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her speech, lest it
+      should mar her fortunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had given
+      her breeding, and loved her; that she returned those duties back as was
+      most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor him. But that she
+      could not frame her mouth to such large speeches as her sisters had done,
+      or promise to love nothing else in the world. Why had her sisters husbands
+      if (as they said) they had no love for anything but their father? If she
+      should ever wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would
+      want half her love, half of her care and duty; she should never marry like
+      her sisters, to love her father all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost extravagantly as
+      her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly told him so at any other
+      time, in more daughter-like and loving terms, and without these
+      qualifications, which did indeed sound a little ungracious; but after the
+      crafty, flattering speeches of her sisters, which she had seen draw such
+      extravagant rewards, she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to
+      love and be silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary
+      ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain; and that her
+      professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the more of
+      truth and sincerity than her sisters&rsquo;.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the old
+      monarch&mdash;who in his best of times always showed much of spleen and
+      rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age had so clouded over
+      his reason that he could not discern truth from flattery, nor a gaypainted
+      speech from words that came from the heart&mdash;that in a fury of
+      resentment he retracted the third part of his kingdom which yet remained,
+      and which he had reserved for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing
+      it equally between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany
+      and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all his
+      courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them jointly with
+      all the power, revenue, and execution of government, only retaining to
+      himself the name of king; all the rest of royalty he resigned, with this
+      reservation, that himself, with a hundred knights for his attendants, was
+      to be maintained by monthly course in each of his daughters&rsquo; palaces
+      in turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by reason, and
+      so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with astonishment and sorrow;
+      but none of them had the courage to interpose between this incensed king
+      and his wrath, except the Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good
+      word for Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him
+      to desist; but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had been ever
+      loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as a father, followed
+      as a master; and he had never esteemed his life further than as a pawn to
+      wage against his royal master&rsquo;s enemies, nor feared to lose it when
+      Lear&rsquo;s safety was the motive; nor, now that Lear was most his own
+      enemy, did this faithful servant of the king forget his old principles,
+      but manfully opposed Lear to do Lear good; and was unmannerly only because
+      Lear was mad. He had been a most faithful counselor in times past to the
+      king, and he besought him now that he would see with his eyes (as he had
+      done in many weighty matters) and go by his advice still, and in his best
+      consideration recall this hideous rashness; for he would answer with his
+      life his judgment that Lear&rsquo;s youngest daughter did not love him
+      least, nor were those empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of
+      hollowness. When power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness.
+      For Lear&rsquo;s threats, what could he do to him whose life was already
+      at his service? That should not hinder duty from speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the king&rsquo;s
+      wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his physician and
+      loves his mortal disease, he banished this true servant, and allotted him
+      but five days to make his preparations for departure; but if on the sixth
+      his hated person was found within the realm of Britain, that moment was to
+      be his death. And Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he
+      chose to show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay
+      there; and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the protection of the
+      gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and so discreetly spoken; and
+      only wished that her sisters&rsquo; large speeches might be answered with
+      deeds of love; and then he went, as he said, to shape his old course to a
+      new country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to hear the
+      determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and to know whether
+      they would persist in their courtship to Cordelia, now that she was under
+      her father&rsquo;s displeasure and had no fortune but her own person to
+      recommend her. And the Duke of Burgundy declined the match, and would not
+      take her to wife upon such conditions. But the King of France,
+      understanding what the nature of the fault had been which had lost her the
+      love of her father&mdash;that it was only a tardiness of speech and the
+      not being able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters&mdash;took
+      this young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry
+      above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters and of her
+      father, though he had been unkind, and she should go with him and be Queen
+      of him and of fair France, and reign over fairer possessions than her
+      sisters. And he called the Duke of Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke,
+      because his love for this young maid had in a moment run all away like
+      water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and besought
+      them to love their father well and make good their professions; and they
+      sullenly told her not to prescribe to them, for they knew their duty, but
+      to strive to content her husband, who had taken her (as they tauntingly
+      expressed it) as Fortune&rsquo;s alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart
+      departed, for she knew the cunning of her sisters and she wished her
+      father in better hands than she was about to leave him in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her sisters
+      began to show themselves &lsquo;in their true colors. Even before the
+      expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend by agreement ,with
+      his , daughter, Goneril, the old king began to find out the difference
+      between promises and performances. This wretch, having got from her father
+      all that he had to bestow, even to the giving away of the crown from off
+      his head, began to grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the
+      old man had reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of
+      being still a king. She could not bear to see him and his knights. Every
+      time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance; and when the
+      old man wanted to speak with her she would feign sickness or anything to
+      get rid of the sight of him, for it was plain that she esteemed his old
+      age a useless burden and his attendants an unnecessary expense; not only
+      she herself slackened in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her
+      example, and (it is to be feared) not without her private instructions,
+      her very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would either
+      refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously pretend not to hear
+      them. Lear could not but perceive this alteration in the behavior of his
+      daughter, but he shut his eyes against it as long as he could, as people
+      commonly are unwilling to believe the unpleasant consequences which their
+      own mistakes and obstinacy have brought upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than falsehood
+      and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by GOOD, USAGE. This eminently
+      appears in the instance of the good Earl of Kent, who, though banished by
+      Lear, and his life made forfeit if he were found in Britain, chose to stay
+      and abide all consequences as long as there was a chance of his being
+      useful to the king his master. See to what mean shifts and disguises poor
+      loyalty is forced to submit sometimes; yet it counts nothing base or
+      unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an obligation! In the
+      disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness and pomp laid aside, this
+      good earl proffered his services to the king, who, not knowing him to be
+      Kent in that disguise, but pleased with a certain plainness, or rather
+      bluntness, in his answers, which the earl put on (so different from that
+      smooth, oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having
+      found the effects not answerable in his daughter), a bargain was quickly
+      struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name of Caius, as he
+      called himself, never suspecting him to be his once great favorite, the
+      high and mighty Earl of Kent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to his royal
+      master, for, Goneril&rsquo;s steward that same day behaving in a
+      disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and language, as
+      no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his mistress, Caius, not
+      enduring to hear so open an affront put upon his Majesty, made no more
+      ado, but presently tripped up his heels and laid the unmannerly slave in
+      the kennel; for which friendly service Lear became more and more attached
+      to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far as so
+      insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor fool, or jester,
+      that had been of his palace while Lear had a palace, as it was the custom
+      of kings and great personages at that time to keep a fool (as he was
+      called) to make them sport after serious business&mdash;this poor fool
+      clung to Lear after he had given away his crown, and by his witty sayings
+      would keep up his good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from
+      jeering at his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving
+      all away to his daughters; at which time, as he rhymingly expressed it,
+      these daughters&mdash;
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;For sudden joy did weep,<br/>
+    And I for sorrow sung,<br/>
+That such a king should play bo-peep<br/>
+    And go the fools among.&rdquo;
+</p>
+    <p>
+      And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had plenty,
+      this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in the presence of
+      Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest which cut to the quick,
+      such as comparing the king to the hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the
+      cuckoo till they grow old enough, and then has its head bit off for its
+      pains; and saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse
+      (meaning that Lear&rsquo;s daughters, that ought to go behind, now ranked
+      before their father); and that Lear was no longer Lear, but the shadow of
+      Lear. For which free speeches he was once or twice threatened to be
+      whipped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to perceive
+      were not all which this foolish fond father was to suffer from his
+      unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that his staying in her palace
+      was inconvenient so long as he insisted upon keeping up an establishment
+      of a hundred knights; that this establishment was useless and expensive
+      and only served to fill her court with riot and feasting; and she prayed
+      him that he would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him,
+      such as himself, and fitting his age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was his
+      daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she who had
+      received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train and grudge him
+      the respect due to his old age. But she persisting in her undutiful
+      demand, the old man&rsquo;s rage was so excited that he called her a
+      detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth; and so indeed she did,
+      for the hundred knights were all men of choice behavior and sobriety of
+      manners, skilled in all particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or
+      feasting, as she said. And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would
+      go to his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights; and he spoke
+      of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and showed more
+      hideous in a child than the sea-monster. And he cursed his eldest
+      daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear, praying that she might
+      never have a child, or, if she had, that it might live to return that
+      scorn and contempt upon her which she had shown to him; that she might
+      feel how sharper than a serpent&rsquo;s tooth it was to have a thankless
+      child. And Goneril&rsquo;s husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to
+      excuse himself for any share which Lear might suppose he had in the
+      unkindness, Lear would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses
+      to be saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan, his
+      other daughter. And Lear thought to himself how small the fault of
+      Cordelia (if it was a fault) now appeared in comparison with her sister&rsquo;s,
+      and he wept; and then he was ashamed that such a creature as Goneril
+      should have so much power over his manhood as to make him weep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regan and her husband were keeping their court in great pomp and state at
+      their palace; and Lear despatched his servant Caius with letters to his
+      daughter, that she might be prepared for his reception, while he and his
+      train followed after. But it seems that Goneril had been beforehand with
+      him, sending letters also to Regan, accusing her father of waywardness and
+      ill-humors, and advising her not to receive so great a train as he was
+      bringing with him. This messenger arrived at the same time with Caius, and
+      Caius and he met, and who should it be but Caius&rsquo;s old enemy the
+      steward, whom he had formerly tripped up by the heels for his saucy
+      behavior to Lear. Caius not liking the fellow&rsquo;s look, and,
+      suspecting what he came for, began to revile him and challenged him to
+      fight, which the fellow refusing, Caius, in a fit of honest passion, beat
+      him soundly, as such a mischief-maker and carrier of wicked messages
+      deserved; which coming to the ears of Regan and her husband, they ordered
+      Caius to be put in the stocks, though he was a messenger from the king her
+      father and in that character demanded the highest respect. So that the
+      first thing the king saw when he entered the castle was his faithful
+      servant Caius sitting in that disgraceful situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was but a bad omen of the reception which he was to expect; but a
+      worse followed when, upon inquiry for his daughter and her husband, he was
+      told they were weary with traveling all night and could not see him; and
+      when, lastly, upon his insisting in a positive and angry manner to see
+      them, they came to greet him, whom should he see in their company but the
+      hated Goneril, who had come to tell her own story and set her sister
+      against the king her father!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This sight much moved the old man, and still more to see Regan take her by
+      the hand; and he asked Goneril if she was not ashamed to look upon his old
+      white beard. And Regan advised him to go home again with Goneril, and live
+      with her peaceably, dismissing half of his attendants, and to ask her
+      forgiveness; for he was old and wanted discretion, and must be ruled and
+      led by persons that had more discretion than himself. And Lear showed how
+      preposterous that would sound, if he were to go down on his knees and beg
+      of his own daughter for food and raiment; and he argued against such an
+      unnatural dependence, declaring his resolution never to return with her,
+      but to stay where he was with Regan, he and his hundred knights; for he
+      said that she had not forgot the half of the kingdom which he had endowed
+      her with, and that her eyes were not fierce like Goneril&rsquo;s, but mild
+      and kind. And he said that rather than return to Goneril, with half his
+      train cut off, he would go over to France and beg a wretched pension of
+      the king there, who had married his youngest daughter without a portion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was mistaken in expecting kinder treatment of Regan than he had
+      experienced from her sister Goneril. As if willing to outdo her sister in
+      unfilial behavior, she declared that she thought fifty knights too many to
+      wait upon him; that five-and-twenty were enough. Then Lear, nigh
+      heartbroken, turned to Goneril and said that he would go back with her,
+      for her fifty doubled five-and-twenty, and so her love was twice as much
+      as Regan&rsquo;s. But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so
+      many as five-and twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be waited
+      upon by her servants or her sister&rsquo;s servants? So these two wicked
+      daughters, as if they strove to exceed each other in cruelty to their old
+      father, who had been so good to them, by little and little would have
+      abated him of all his train, all respect (little enough for him that once
+      commanded a kingdom) which was left him to show that he had once been a
+      king! Not that a splendid train is essential to happiness, but from a king
+      to a beggar is a hard change, from commanding millions to be without one
+      attendant; and it was the ingratitude in his daughters&rsquo; denying more
+      than what he would suffer by the want of it, which pierced this poor king
+      to the heart; in so much that, with this double ill-usage, and vexation
+      for having so foolishly given away a kingdom, his wits began to be
+      unsettled, and while he said he knew not what, he vowed revenge against
+      those unnatural hags and to make examples of them that should be a terror
+      to the earth!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was thus idly threatening what his weak arm could never execute,
+      night came on, and a loud storm of thunder and lightning with rain; and
+      his daughters still persisting in their resolution not to admit his
+      followers, he called for his horses, and chose rather to encounter the
+      utmost fury of the storm abroad than stay under the same roof with these
+      ungrateful daughters; and they, saying that the injuries which wilful men
+      procure to themselves are their just punishment, suffered him to go in
+      that condition and shut their doors upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The winds were high, and the rain and storm increased, when the old man
+      sallied forth to combat with the elements, less sharp than his daughters&rsquo;
+      unkindness. For many miles about there was scarce a bush; and there upon a
+      heath, exposed to the fury of the storm in a dark night, did King Lear
+      wander out, and defy the winds and the thunder; and he bid the winds to
+      blow the earth into the sea, or swell the waves of the sea till they
+      drowned the earth, that no token might remain of any such ungrateful
+      animal as man. The old king was now left with no other companion than the
+      poor fool, who still abided with him, with his merry conceits striving to
+      outjest misfortune, saying it was but a naughty night to swim in, and
+      truly the king had better go in and ask his daughter&rsquo;s blessing:
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+But he that has a little tiny wit&mdash;<br/>
+    With heigh ho, the wind and the rain,&mdash;<br/>
+Must make content with his fortunes fit<br/>
+    Though the rain it raineth every day,
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+and swearing it was a brave night to cool a lady&rsquo;s pride.
+</p>
+
+    <p>
+      Thus poorly accompanied, this once great monarch was found by his
+      ever-faithful servant the good Earl of Kent, now transformed to Caius, who
+      ever followed close at his side, though the king did not know him to be
+      the earl; and be said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas, sir, are you here? Creatures that love night love not such
+      nights as these. This dreadful storm has driven the beasts to their
+      hiding-places. Man&rsquo;s nature cannot endure the affliction or the
+      fear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Lear rebuked him and said these lesser evils were not felt where a
+      greater malady was fixed. When the mind is at ease the body has leisure to
+      be delicate, but the tempest in his mind did take all feeling else from
+      his senses but of that which beat at his heart. And he spoke of filial
+      ingratitude, and said it was all one as if the mouth should tear the hand
+      for lifting food to it; for parents were hands and food and everything to
+      children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the good Caius still persisting in his entreaties that the king would
+      not stay out in the open air, at last persuaded him to enter a little
+      wretched hovel which stood upon the heath, where the fool first entering,
+      suddenly ran back terrified, saying that he had seen a spirit. But upon
+      examination this spirit proved to be nothing more than a poor Bedlam
+      beggar who had crept into this deserted hovel for shelter, and with his
+      talk about devils frighted the fool, one of those poor lunatics who are
+      either mad, or feign to be so, the better to extort charity from the
+      compassionate country people, who go about the country calling themselves
+      poor Tom and poor Turlygood, saying, &ldquo;Who gives anything to poor
+      Tom?&rdquo; sticking pins and nails and sprigs of rosemary into their arms
+      to make them bleed; and with horrible actions, partly by prayers, and
+      partly with lunatic curses, they move or terrify the ignorant country folk
+      into giving them alms. This poor fellow was such a one; and the king,
+      seeing him in so wretched a plight, with nothing but a blanket about his
+      loins to cover his nakedness, could not be persuaded but that the fellow
+      was some father who had given all away to his daughters and brought
+      himself to that pass; for nothing, he thought, could bring a man to such
+      wretchedness but the having unkind daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And from this and many such wild speeches which he uttered the good Caius
+      plainly perceived that he was not in his perfect mind, but that his
+      daughters&rsquo; ill-usage had really made him go mad. And now the loyalty
+      of this worthy Earl of Kent showed itself in more essential services than
+      he had hitherto found opportunity to perform. For with the assistance of
+      some of the king&rsquo;s attendants who remained loyal he had the person
+      of his royal master removed at daybreak to the castle of Dover, where his
+      own friends and influence, as Earl of Kent, chiefly lay; and himself,
+      embarking for France, hastened to the court of Cordelia, and did there in
+      such moving terms represent the pitiful condition of her royal father, and
+      set out in such lively colors the inhumanity of her sisters, that this
+      good and loving child with many tears besought the king, her husband, that
+      he would give her leave to embark for England, with a sufficient power to
+      subdue these cruel daughters and their husbands and restore the old king,
+      her father, to his throne; which being granted, she set forth, and with a
+      royal army landed at Dover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear, having by some chance escaped from the guardians which&rsquo; the
+      good Earl of Kent had put over him to take care of him in his lunacy, was
+      found by some of Cordelia&rsquo;s train, wandering about the fields near
+      Dover, in a pitiable condition, stark mad, and singing aloud to himself,
+      with a crown upon his head which he had made of straw and nettles and
+      other wild weeds that he had picked up in the corn-fields. By the advice
+      of the physicians, Cordelia, though earnestly desirous of seeing her
+      father, was prevailed upon to put off the meeting till, by sleep and the
+      operation of herbs which they gave him, he should be restored to greater
+      composure. By the aid of these skilful physicians, to whom Cordelia
+      promised all her gold and jewels for the recovery of the old king, Lear
+      was soon in a condition to see his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A tender sight it was to see the meeting between this father and daughter;
+      to see the struggles between the joy of this poor old king at beholding
+      again his once darling child, and the shame at receiving such filial
+      kindness from her whom he had cast off for so small a fault in his
+      displeasure; both these passions struggling with the remains of his
+      malady, which in his half-crazed brain sometimes made him that he scarce
+      remembered where he was or who it was tb at so kindly kissed him and spoke
+      to him. And then he would beg the standers-by not to laugh at him if he
+      were mistaken in thinking this lady to be his daughter Cordelia! And then
+      to see him fall on his knees to beg pardon of his child; and she, good
+      lady, kneeling all the while to ask a blessing of him, and telling him
+      that it did not become him to kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his
+      child, his true and very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said)
+      to kiss away all her sisters&rsquo; unkindness, and said that they might
+      be ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his white
+      beard out into the cold air, when her enemy&rsquo;s dog, though it had bit
+      her (as she prettily expressed it), should have stayed by her fire such a
+      night as that, and warmed himself. And she told her father how she had
+      come from France with purpose to bring him assistance; and he said that
+      she must forget and forgive, for he was old and foolish and did not know
+      what he did; but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but
+      her sisters had none. And Cordelia said that she had no cause, no more
+      than they had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So we will leave this old king in the protection of his dutiful and loving
+      child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she and her physicians at
+      length succeeded in winding up the untuned and jarring senses which the
+      cruelty of his other daughters had so violently shaken. Let us return to
+      say a word or two about those cruel daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old father,
+      could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own husbands. They
+      soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of duty and affection, and
+      in an open way showed they had fixed their loves upon another. It happened
+      that the object of their guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a
+      natural son of the late Earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had
+      succeeded in disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his
+      earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a wicked man,
+      and a fit object for the love of such wicked creatures as Goneril and
+      Regan. It falling out about this time that the Duke of Cornwall, Regan&rsquo;s
+      husband, died, Regan immediately declared her intention of wedding this
+      Earl of Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as
+      well as to Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed love,
+      Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison; but being
+      detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her husband, the Duke of
+      Albany, for this deed, and for her guilty passion for the earl which had
+      come to his ears, she, in a fit of disappointed love and rage, shortly put
+      an end to her own life. Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these
+      wicked daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the justice
+      displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were suddenly taken off
+      from this sight to admire at the mysterious ways of the same power in the
+      melancholy fate of the young and virtuous daughter, the Lady Cordelia,
+      whose good deeds did seem to deserve a more fortunate conclusion. But it
+      is an awful truth that innocence and piety are not always successful in
+      this world. The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the
+      command of the bad Earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by
+      the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any should stand
+      between him and the throne, ended her life in prison. Thus heaven took
+      this innocent lady to itself in her young years, after showing her to the
+      world an illustrious example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive
+      this kind child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he died, the good Earl of Kent, who had still attended his old
+      master&rsquo;s steps from the first of his daughters&rsquo; ill-usage to
+      this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that it was he
+      who had followed him under the name of Caius; but Lear&rsquo;s care-crazed
+      brain at that time could not comprehend how that could be, or how Kent and
+      Caius could be the same person, so Kent thought it needless to trouble him
+      with explanations at such a time; and, Lear soon after expiring, this
+      faithful servant to the king, between age and grief for his old master&rsquo;s
+      vexations, soon followed him to the grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad Earl of Gloucester, whose
+      treasons were discovered, and himself slain in single combat with his
+      brother, the lawful earl, and how Goneril&rsquo;s husband, the Duke of
+      Albany, who was innocent of the death of Cordelia, and had never
+      encouraged his lady in her wicked proceedings against her father, ascended
+      the throne of Britain after the death of Lear, it is needless here to
+      narrate, Lear and his three daughters being dead, whose adventures alone
+      concern our story.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>MACBETH</h2>
+    <p>
+      When Duncan the Meek reigned King of Scotland there lived a great thane,
+      or lord, called Macbeth. This Macbeth was a near kinsman to the king, and
+      in great esteem at court for his valor and conduct in the wars, an example
+      of which he had lately given in defeating a rebel army assisted by the
+      troops of Norway in terrible numbers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and Banquo, returning victorious from
+      this great battle, their way lay over a blasted heath, where they were
+      stopped by the strange appearance of three figures like women, except that
+      they had beards, and their withered skins and wild attire made them look
+      not like any earthly creatures. Macbeth first addressed them, when they,
+      seemingly offended, laid each one her choppy finger upon her skinny lips,
+      in token of silence; and the first of them saluted Macbeth with the title
+      of Thane of Glamis. The general was not a little startled to find himself
+      known by such creatures; but how much more, when the second of them
+      followed up that salute by giving him the title of Thane of Cawdor, to
+      which honor he had no pretensions; and again the third bid him, &ldquo;All
+      hail! that shalt be king hereafter!&rdquo; Such a prophetic greeting might
+      well amaze him, who knew that while the king&rsquo;s sons lived he could
+      not hope to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo, they pronounced
+      him, in a sort of riddling terms, to be LESSER THAN MACBETH, AND GREATER!
+      NOT SO HAPPY, BUT MUCH HAPPIER! and prophesied that though he should never
+      reign, yet his sons after him should be kings in Scotland. They then
+      turned into air and vanished; by which the generals knew them to be the
+      weird sisters, or witches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adventure there
+      arrived certain messengers from the king, who were empowered by him to
+      confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of Cawdor. An event so
+      miraculously corresponding with the prediction of the witches astonished
+      Macbeth, and he stood wrapped in amazement, unable to make reply to the
+      messengers; and in that point of time swelling hopes arose in his mind
+      that the prediction of the third witch might in like manner have its
+      accomplishment, and that he should one day reign king in Scotland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning to Banquo, he said, &ldquo;Do you not hope that your children
+      shall be kings, when what the witches promised to me has so wonderfully
+      come to pass?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That hope,&rdquo; answered the general, &ldquo;might enkindle you
+      to aim at the throne; but oftentimes these ministers of darkness tell us
+      truths in little things, to betray us into deeds of greatest consequence.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the wicked suggestions of the witches had sunk too deep into the mind
+      of Macbeth to allow him to attend to the warnings of the good Banquo. From
+      that time he bent all his thoughts how to compass the throne of Scotland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Macbeth had a wife, to whom he communicated the strange prediction of the
+      weird sisters and its partial accomplishment. She was a bad, ambitious
+      woman, and so as her husband and herself could arrive at greatness she
+      cared not much by what means. She spurred on the reluctant purpose of
+      Macbeth, who felt compunction at the thoughts of blood, and did not cease
+      to represent the murder of the king as a step absolutely necessary to the
+      fulfilment of the flattering prophecy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened at this time that the king, who out of his royal condescension
+      would oftentimes visit his principal nobility upon gracious terms, came to
+      Macbeth&rsquo;s house, attended by his two sons, Malcolm and Donalbain,
+      and a numerous train of thanes and attendants, the more to honor Macbeth
+      for the triumphal success of his wars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The castle of Macbeth was pleasantly situated and the air about it was
+      sweet and wholesome, which appeared by the nests which the martlet, or
+      swallow, had built under all the jutting friezes and buttresses of the
+      building, wherever it found a place of advantage; for where those birds
+      most breed and haunt the air is observed to be delicate. The king entered,
+      well pleased with the place, and not less so with the attentions and
+      respect of his honored hostess, Lady Macbeth, who had the art of covering
+      treacherous purposes with smiles, and could look like the innocent flower
+      while she was indeed serpent under it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, being tired with his journey, went early to bed, and in his
+      state-room two grooms of his chamber (as was the custom) beside him. He
+      had been unusually pleased with his reception, and had made presents
+      before he retired to his principal ; and among the rest had sent a diamond
+      to Lady Macbeth, greeting the name of his most kind hostess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was the middle of night, when over half the world nature seems dead,
+      and wicked dreams abuse men&rsquo;s minds asleep, and none but the wolf
+      and the murderer are abroad. This was the time when Lady Macbeth waked to
+      plot the murder of the king. She would not have undertaken a deed so
+      abhorrent to her sex but that she feared her husband&rsquo;s nature, that
+      it was too full of the milk of human kindness to do a contrived murder.
+      She knew him to be ambitious, but withal to be scrupulous, and not yet
+      prepared for that height of crime which commonly in the end accompanies
+      inordinate ambition. She had won him to consent to the murder, but she
+      doubted his resolution; and she feared that the natural tenderness of his
+      disposition (more humane than her own) would come between and defeat the
+      purpose. So with her own hands armed with a dagger she approached the king&rsquo;s
+      bed, having taken care to ply the grooms of his chamber so with wine that
+      they slept intoxicated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan in a
+      sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed him
+      earnestly there was something in his face, as he slept, which resembled
+      her own father, and she had not the courage to proceed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She returned to confer with her husband. His resolution had begun to
+      stagger. He considered that there were strong reasons against the deed. In
+      the first place, he was not only a subject, but a near kinsman to the
+      king; and he had been his host and entertainer that day, whose duty, by
+      the laws of hospitality, it was to shut the door against his murderers,
+      not bear the knife himself. Then he considered how just and merciful a
+      king this Duncan had been, how clear of offense to his subjects, how
+      loving to his nobility, and in particular to him; that such kings are the
+      peculiar care of Heaven, and their subjects doubly bound to revenge their
+      deaths. Besides, by the favors of the king, Macbeth stood high in the
+      opinion of all sorts of men, and how would those honors be stained by the
+      reputation of so foul a murder!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In these conflicts of the mind Lady Macbeth found her husband inclining to
+      the better part and resolving to proceed no further. But she, being a
+      woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose, began to pour in at his
+      ears words which infused a portion of her own spirit into his mind,
+      assigning reason upon reason why he should not shrink from what he had
+      undertaken; how easy the deed was; how soon it would be over; and how the
+      action of one short night would give to all their nights and days to come
+      sovereign sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on his change of
+      purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cowardice; and declared that
+      she had given suck, and knew how tender it was to love the babe that
+      milked her, but she would, while it was smiling in her face, have plucked
+      it from her breast and dashed its brains out if she had so sworn to do it
+      as he had sworn to perform that murder. Then she added, how practicable it
+      was to lay the guilt of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And with
+      the valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish resolutions that he
+      once more summoned up courage to the bloody business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark to the room
+      where Duncan lay; and as he went he thought he saw another dagger in the
+      air, with the handle toward him, and on the blade and at the point of it
+      drops of blood; but when be tried to grasp at it it was nothing but air, a
+      mere phantasm proceeding from his own hot and oppressed brain and the
+      business he had in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king&rsquo;s room, whom he
+      despatched with one stroke of his dagger. just as he had done the murder
+      one of the grooms who slept in the chamber laughed in his sleep, and the
+      other cried, &ldquo;Murder,&rdquo; which woke them both.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But they said a short prayer; one of them said, &ldquo;God less us!&rdquo;
+      and the other answered, &ldquo;Amen&rdquo;; and addressed themselves to
+      sleep again. Macbeth, who stood listening to them, tried to say &ldquo;Amen&rdquo;
+      when the fellow said &ldquo;God bless us!&rdquo; but, though he had most
+      need of a blessing, the word stuck in his throat and he could not
+      pronounce it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he thought he heard a voice which cried: &ldquo;Sleep no more!
+      Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, that nourishes life.&rdquo;
+      Still it cried, &ldquo;Sleep no more!&rdquo; to all the house. &ldquo;Glamis
+      hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more, Macbeth
+      shall sleep no more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With such horrible imaginations Macbeth returned to his listening wife,
+      who began to think he had failed of his purpose and that the deed was
+      somehow frustrated. He came in so distracted a state that she reproached
+      him with his want of firmness and sent him to wash his hands of the blood
+      which stained them, while she took his dagger, with purpose to stain the
+      cheeks of the grooms with blood, to make it seem their guilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Morning came, and with it the discovery of the murder, which could not be
+      concealed; and though Macbeth and his lady made great show of grief, and
+      the proofs against the grooms (the dagger being produced against them and
+      their faces smeared with blood) were sufficiently strong, yet the entire
+      suspicion fell upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much
+      more forcible than such poor silly grooms could be supposed to have; and
+      Duncan&rsquo;s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought for refuge in
+      the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made his escape to
+      Ireland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king&rsquo;s sons, who should have succeeded him, having thus vacated
+      the throne, Macbeth as next heir was crowned king, and thus the prediction
+      of the weird sisters was literally accomplished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though placed so high, Macbeth and his queen could not forget the prophecy
+      of the weird sisters that, though Macbeth should be king, yet not his
+      children, but the children of Banquo, should be kings after him. The
+      thought of this, and that they had defiled their hands with blood, and
+      done so great crimes, only to place the posterity of Banquo upon the
+      throne, so rankled within them that they determined to put to death both
+      Banquo and his son, to make void the predictions of the weird sisters,
+      which in their own case had been so remarkably brought to pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For this purpose they made a great supper, to which they invited all the
+      chief thanes; and among the rest, with marks of particular respect, Banquo
+      and his son Fleance were invited. The way by which Banquo was to pass to
+      the palace at night was beset by murderers appointed by Macbeth, who
+      stabbed Banquo; but in the scuffle Fleance escaped. From that Fleance
+      descended a race of monarchs who afterward filled the Scottish throne,
+      ending with James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England, under
+      whom the two crowns of England and Scotland were united.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At supper, the queen, whose manners were in the highest degree affable and
+      royal, played the hostess with a gracefulness and attention which
+      conciliated every one present, and Macbeth discoursed freely with his
+      thanes and nobles, saying that all that was honorable in the country was
+      under his roof, if he had but his good friend Banquo present, whom yet he
+      hoped he should rather have to chide for neglect than to lament for any
+      mischance. just at these words the ghost of Banquo, whom he had caused to
+      be murdered, entered the room and placed himself on the chair which
+      Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a bold man, and one that
+      could have faced the devil without trembling, at this horrible sight his
+      cheeks turned white with fear and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes
+      fixed upon the ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but
+      perceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took it for a
+      fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering that it was but the
+      same fancy which made him see the dagger in the air when he was about to
+      kill Duncan. But Macbeth continued to see the ghost, and gave no heed to
+      all they could say, while he addressed it with distracted words, yet so
+      significant that his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be
+      disclosed, in great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity of
+      Macbeth as disorder he was often troubled with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject. His queen and he had their
+      sleeps afflicted with terrible dreams, and the blood of Banquo troubled
+      them not more than the escape of Fleance, whom now they looked upon as
+      father to a line of kings who should keep their posterity out of the
+      throne. With these miserable thoughts they found no peace, and Macbeth
+      determined once more to seek out the weird sisters and know from them the
+      worst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sought them in a cave upon the heath, where they, who knew by foresight
+      of his coming, were engaged in preparing their dreadful charms by which
+      they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to them futurity. Their horrid
+      ingredients were toads, bats, and serpents, the eye of a newt and the
+      tongue of a dog, the leg of a lizard and the wing of the night-owl, the
+      scale of a dragon, the tooth of a wolf, the maw of the ravenous salt-sea
+      shark, the mummy of a witch, the root of the poisonous hemlock (this to
+      have effect must be digged in the dark), the gall of a goat, and the liver
+      of a Jew, with slips of the yew-tree that roots itself in graves, and the
+      finger of a dead child. All these were set on to boil in a great kettle,
+      or caldron, which, as fast as it grew too hot, was cooled with a baboon&rsquo;s
+      blood. To these they poured in the blood of a sow that had eaten her
+      young, and they threw into the flame the grease that had sweaten from a
+      murderer&rsquo;s gibbet. By these charms they bound the infernal spirit to
+      answer their questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his doubts resolved by
+      them or by their masters, the spirits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which be saw, boldly
+      answered: &ldquo;Where are they? Let me see them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first arose in the
+      likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by name and bid him
+      beware of the Thane of Fife; for which caution Macbeth thanked him; for
+      Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of Macduff, the Thane of Fife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child, and he
+      called Macbeth by name and bid him have no fear, but laugh to scorn the
+      power of man, for none of woman born should have power to hurt him; and he
+      advised him to be bloody, bold, and resolute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then live, Macduff!&rdquo; cried the king. &ldquo;What need I fear
+      thee? But yet I will make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live, that
+      I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That spirit being dismissed, a third arose in the form of a child crowned,
+      with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name and comforted him
+      against conspiracies, saying that he should never be vanquished until the
+      wood of Birnam to Dunsinane hill should come against him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet bodements! good!&rdquo; cried Macbeth; &ldquo;who can unfix
+      the forest, and move it from its earth-bound roots? I see I shall live the
+      usual period of man&rsquo;s life, and not be cut off by a violent death.
+      But my heart throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if your art can tell so
+      much, if Banquo&rsquo;s issue shall ever reign in this kingdom?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the caldron sank into the ground, and a noise of music was heard, and
+      eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and Banquo last, who bore a
+      glass which showed the figures of many more, and Banquo, all bloody,
+      smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to them; by which Macbeth knew that these
+      were the posterity of Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and
+      the witches, with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making a show
+      of duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And from this time the thoughts
+      of Macbeth were all bloody and dreadful. The first thing he heard when he
+      got out of the witches&rsquo; cave was that Macduff, Thane of Fife, had
+      fled to England to join the army which was forming against him under
+      Malcolm, the eldest son of the late king, with intent to displace Macbeth
+      and set Malcolm, the right heir, upon the throne. Macbeth, stung with
+      rage, set upon the castle of Macduff and put his wife and children, whom
+      the thane had left behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all
+      who claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These and such-like deeds alienated the minds of all his chief nobility
+      from him. Such as could fled to join with Malcolm and Macduff, who were
+      now approaching with a powerful army which they had raised in England; and
+      the rest secretly wished success to their arms, though, for fear of
+      Macbeth, they could take no active part. His recruits went on slowly.
+      Everybody hated the tyrant; nobody loved or honored him; but all suspected
+      him; and he began to envy the condition of Duncan, whom he had murdered,
+      who slept soundly in his grave, against whom treason had done its worst.
+      Steel nor poison, domestic malice nor foreign levies, could hurt him any
+      longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While these things were acting, the queen, who had been the sole partner
+      in his wickedness, in whose bosom he could sometimes seek a momentary
+      repose from those terrible dreams which afflicted them both nightly, died,
+      it is supposed, by her own hands, unable to bear the remorse of guilt and
+      public hate; by which event he was left alone, without a soul to love or
+      care for him, or a friend to whom he could confide his wicked purposes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He grew careless of life and wished for death; but the near approach of
+      Malcolm&rsquo;s army roused in him what remained of his ancient courage,
+      and he determined to die (as he expressed it) &ldquo;with armor on his
+      back.&rdquo; Besides this, the hollow promises of the witches had filled
+      him with a false confidence, and he remembered the sayings of the spirits,
+      that none of woman born was to hurt him, and that he was never to be
+      vanquished till Birnam wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought
+      could never be. So he shut himself up in his castle, whose impregnable
+      strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly waited the approach
+      of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there came a messenger to him, pale and
+      shaking with fear, almost unable to report that which he had seen; for he
+      averred, that as he stood upon his watch on the hill he looked toward
+      Birnam, and to his thinking the wood began to move!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Liar and slave!&rdquo; cried Macbeth. &ldquo;If thou speakest
+      false, thou shalt hang alive upon the next tree, till famine end thee. If
+      thy tale be true, I care not if thou dost as much by me&rdquo;; for
+      Macbeth now began to faint in resolution, and to doubt the equivocal
+      speeches of the spirits. He was not to fear till Birnam wood should come
+      to Dunsinane; and now a wood did move! &ldquo;However,&rdquo; said he,
+      &ldquo;if this which he avouches be true, let us arm and out. There is no
+      flying hence, nor staying here. I begin to be weary of the sun, and wish
+      my life at an end.&rdquo; With these desperate speeches he sallied forth
+      upon the besiegers, who had now come up to the castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The strange appearance which had given the messenger an idea of a wood
+      moving is easily solved. When the besieging army marched through the wood
+      of Birnam, Malcolm, like a skilful general, instructed his soldiers to hew
+      down every one a bough and bear it before him, by way of concealing the
+      true numbers of his host. This marching of the soldiers with boughs had at
+      a distance the appearance which had frightened the messenger. Thus were
+      the words of the spirit brought to pass, in a sense different from that in
+      which Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of his confidence
+      was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now a severe skirmishing took place, in which Macbeth, though feebly
+      supported by those who called themselves his friends, but in reality hated
+      the tyrant and inclined to the party of Malcolm and Macduff, yet fought
+      with the extreme of rage and valor, cutting to pieces all who were opposed
+      to him, till he came to where Macduff was fighting. Seeing Macduff, and
+      remembering the caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid
+      Macduff, above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff, who had been
+      seeking him through the whole fight, opposed his turning, and a fierce
+      contest ensued, Macduff giving him many foul reproaches for the murder of
+      his wife and children. Macbeth, whose soul was charged enough with blood
+      of that family already, would still have declined the combat; but Macduff
+      still urged him to it, calling him tyrant, murderer, hell-hound, and
+      villain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Macbeth remembered the words of the spirit, how none of woman born
+      should hurt him; and, smiling confidently, he said to Macduff:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thou losest thy labor, Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress the
+      air with thy sword as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed life, which
+      must not yield to one of woman born.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Despair thy charm,&rdquo; said Macduff, &ldquo;and let that lying
+      spirit whom thou hast served tell thee that Macduff was never born of
+      woman, never as the ordinary manner of men is to be born, but was untimely
+      taken from his mother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,&rdquo; said the trembling
+      Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; &ldquo;and let
+      never man in future believe the lying equivocations of witches and
+      juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have double senses, and,
+      while they keep their promise literally, disappoint our hopes with a
+      different meaning. I will not fight with thee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then live!&rdquo; said the scornful Macduff. &ldquo;We will have a
+      show of thee, as men show monsters, and a painted board, on which all be
+      written, &lsquo;Here men may see the tyrant!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said Macbeth, whose courage returned with despair.
+      &ldquo;I will not live to kiss the ground before young Malcolm&rsquo;s
+      feet to be baited with the curses of the rabble. Though Birnam wood be
+      come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed to me, who wast born of woman, yet
+      will I try the last.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With these frantic words he threw himself upon Macduff, who, after a
+      severe struggle, in the end overcame him, and, cutting off his head, made
+      a present of it to the young and lawful king, Malcolm, who took upon him
+      the government which, by the machinations of the usurper, he had so long
+      been deprived of, and ascended the throne of Duncan the Meek among the
+      acclamations of the nobles and the people.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>ALL&rsquo;S WELL THAT ENDS WELL</h2>
+    <p>
+      Bertram, Count of Rousillon, had newly come to his title and estate by the
+      death of his father. The King of France loved the father of Bertram, and
+      when he heard of his death he sent for his son to come immediately to his
+      royal court in Paris, intending, for the friendship he bore the late
+      count, to grace young Bertram with his especial favor and protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when Lafeu, an
+      old lord of the French court, came to conduct him to the king. The King of
+      France was an absolute monarch and the invitation to court was in the form
+      of a royal mandate, or positive command, which no subject, of what high
+      dignity soever, might disobey; therefore, though the countess, in parting
+      with this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose loss
+      she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a single day, but
+      gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who came to fetch him, tried
+      to comfort the countess for the loss of her late lord and her son&rsquo;s
+      sudden absence; and he said, in a courtier&rsquo;s flattering manner, that
+      the king was so kind a prince, she would find in his Majesty a husband,
+      and that he would be a father to her son; meaning only that the good king
+      would befriend the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the
+      king had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his physicians
+      to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on hearing this account
+      of the king&rsquo;s ill health, and said she wished the father of Helena
+      (a young gentlewoman who was present in attendance upon her) were living
+      that she doubted not he could have cured his Majesty of his disease. And
+      she told Lafeu something of the history of Helena, saying she was the only
+      daughter of the famous physician, Gerard de Narbon, and that he had
+      recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so that since his
+      death she had taken Helena under her protection; then the countess praised
+      the virtuous disposition and excellent qualities of Helena, saying she
+      inherited these virtues from her worthy father. While she was speaking,
+      Helena wept in sad and mournful silence, which made the countess gently
+      reprove her for too much grieving for her father&rsquo;s death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram now bade his mother farewell. The countess parted with this dear
+      son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to the care of Lafeu,
+      saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good my lord, advise him, for he is an unseasoned courtier.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram&rsquo;s last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words of
+      mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his short farewell
+      to her with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and mournful
+      silence the tears she shed were not for Gerard de Narbon.. Helena loved
+      her father, but in the present feeling of a deeper love, the object of
+      which she was about to lose, she had forgotten the very form and features
+      of her dead father, her imagination presenting no image to her mind but
+      Bertram&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he was the
+      Count of Rousillon, descended from the most ancient family in France. She
+      of humble birth. Her parents of no note at all. His ancestors all noble.
+      And therefore she looked up to the high-born Bertram as to her master and
+      to her dear lord, and dared not form any wish but to live his servant,
+      and, so living, to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her
+      between his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes that she would say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were all one that I should love a bright particular star, and
+      think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram&rsquo;s absence filled her eyes with tears and her heart with
+      sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty comfort to
+      her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and look upon his dark
+      eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his fine hair till she seemed to
+      draw his portrait on the tablet of her heart, that heart too capable of
+      retaining the memory of every line in the features of that loved face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gerard de Narbon, when he died, left her no other portion than some
+      prescriptions of rare and well-proved virtue, which, by deep study and
+      long experience in medicine, he had collected as sovereign and almost
+      infallible remedies. Among the rest there was one set down as an approved
+      medicine for the disease under which Lafeu said the king at that time
+      languished; and when Helena heard of the king&rsquo;s complaint, she, who
+      till now had been so humble and so hopeless, formed an ambitious project
+      in her mind to go herself to Paris and undertake the cure of the king. But
+      though Helena was the possessor of this choice prescription, it was
+      unlikely, as the king as well as his physicians was of opinion that his
+      disease was incurable, that they would give credit to a poor unlearned
+      virgin if she should offer to perform a cure. The firm hopes that Helena
+      had of succeeding, if she might be permitted to make the trial, seemed
+      more than even her father&rsquo;s skill warranted, though he was the most
+      famous physician of his time; for she felt a strong faith that this good
+      medicine was sanctified by all the luckiest stars in heaven to be the
+      legacy that should advance her fortune, even to the high dignity of being
+      Count Rousillon&rsquo;s wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram had not been long gone when the countess was informed by her
+      steward that he had overheard Helena talking to herself, and that he
+      understood, from some words she uttered, she was in love with Bertram and
+      thought of following him to Paris. The countess dismissed the steward with
+      thanks, and desired him to tell Helena she wished to speak with her. What
+      she had just heard of Helena brought the remembrance of days long past
+      into the mind of the countess; those days, probably, when her love for
+      Bertram&rsquo;s father first began; and she said to herself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so it was with me when I was young. Love is a thorn that
+      belongs to the rose of youth; for in the season of youth, if ever we are
+      Nature&rsquo;s children, these faults are ours, though then we think not
+      they are faults.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the countess was thus meditating on the loving errors of her own
+      youth, Helena entered, and she said to her, &ldquo;Helena, you know I am a
+      mother to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena replied, &ldquo;You are my honorable mistress.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are my daughter,&rdquo; said the countess again. &ldquo;I say I
+      am your mother. Why do you start and look pale at my words?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With looks of alarm and confused thoughts, fearing the countess suspected
+      her love, Helena still replied, &ldquo;Pardon me, madam, you are not my
+      mother; the Count Rousillon cannot be my brother, nor I your daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet, Helena,&rdquo; said the countess, &ldquo;you might be my
+      daughter-in-law; and I am afraid that is what you mean to be, the words
+      MOTHER and DAUGHTER so disturb you. Helena, do you love my son?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good madam, pardon me,&rdquo; said the affrighted Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the countess repeated her question. &ldquo;Do you love my son?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not you love him, madam?&rdquo; said Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess replied: &ldquo;Give me not this evasive answer, Helena.
+      Come, come, disclose the state of your affections, for your love has to
+      the full appeared.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena, on her knees now, owned her love, and with shame and terror
+      implored the pardon of her noble mistress; and with words expressive of
+      the sense she had of the inequality between their fortunes she protested
+      Bertram did not know she loved him, comparing her humble, unaspiring love
+      to a poor Indian who adores the sun that looks upon his worshiper but
+      knows of him no more. The countess asked Helena if she had not lately an
+      intent to go to Paris. Helena owned the design she had formed in her mind
+      when she heard Lafeu speak of the king&rsquo;s illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This was your motive for wishing to go to Paris,&rdquo; said the
+      countess, &ldquo;was it? Speak truly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena honestly answered, &ldquo;My lord your son made me to think of
+      this; else Paris. and the medicine and the king had from the conversation
+      of my thoughts been absent then.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess heard the whole of this confession without saying a word
+      either of approval or of blame, but she strictly questioned Helena as to
+      the probability of the medicine being useful to the king. She found that
+      it was the most prized by Gerard de Narbon of all he possessed, and that
+      he had given it to his daughter on his death-bed; and remembering the
+      solemn promise she had made at that awful hour in regard to this young
+      maid, whose destiny, and the life of the king himself, seemed to depend on
+      the execution of a project (which, though conceived by the fond
+      suggestions of a loving maiden&rsquo;s thoughts, the countess knew not but
+      it might be the unseen workings of Providence to bring to pass the
+      recovery of the king and to lay the foundation of the future fortunes of
+      Gerard de Narbon&rsquo;s daughter), free leave she gave to Helena to
+      pursue her own way, and generously furnished her with ample means and
+      suitable attendants; and Helena set out for Paris with the blessings of
+      the countess and her kindest wishes for her success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena arrived at Paris, and by the assistance of her friend, the old Lord
+      Lafeu, she obtained an audience of the king. She had still many
+      difficulties to encounter, for the king was not easily prevailed on to try
+      the medicine offered him by this fair young doctor. But she told him she
+      was Gerard de Narbon&rsquo;s daughter (with whose fame the king was well
+      acquainted), and she offered the precious medicine as the darling treasure
+      which contained the essence of all her father&rsquo;s long experience and
+      skill, and she boldly engaged to forfeit her life if it failed to restore
+      his Majesty to perfect health in the space of two days. The king at length
+      consented to try it, and in two days&rsquo; time Helena was to lose her
+      fife if the king did not recover; but if she succeeded, he promised to
+      give her the choice of any man throughout all France (the princes only
+      excepted) whom she could like for a husband; the choice of a husband being
+      the fee Helena demanded if she cured the king of his disease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the efficacy
+      of her father&rsquo;s medicine. Before two days were at an end the king
+      was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all the young noblemen of
+      his court together, in order to confer the promised reward of a husband
+      upon his fair physician; and he desired Helena to look round on this
+      youthful parcel of noble bachelors and choose her husband. Helena was not
+      slow to make her choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count
+      Rousillon, and, turning to Bertram, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give me
+      and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;young Bertram, take her;
+      she is your wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present of the
+      king&rsquo;s of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a poor
+      physician&rsquo;s daughter, bred at his father&rsquo;s charge, and now
+      living a dependent on his mother&rsquo;s bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and she said
+      to the king: &ldquo;That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let the rest
+      go.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so slighted, for the
+      power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was one of the many privileges
+      of the kings of France, and that same day Bertram was married to Helena, a
+      forced and uneasy marriage to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the
+      poor lady, who, though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her
+      life to obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband&rsquo;s
+      love not being a gift in the power of the King of France to bestow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena was no sooner married than she was desired by Bertram to apply to
+      the king for him for leave of absence from court; and when she brought him
+      the king&rsquo;s permission for his departure, Bertram told her that he
+      was not prepared for this sudden marriage, it had much unsettled him, and
+      therefore she must not wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena
+      wondered not, she grieved when she found it was his intention to leave
+      her. He ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this
+      unkind command, she replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, I can nothing say to this but that I am your most obedient
+      servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that desert
+      wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great fortunes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But this humble speech of Helena&rsquo;s did not at all move the haughty
+      Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her without even the
+      common civility of a kind farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished the
+      purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the king, and she
+      had wedded her heart&rsquo;s dear lord, the Count Rousillon; but she
+      returned back a dejected lady to her noble mother-in-law, and as soon as
+      she entered the house she received a letter from Bertram which almost
+      broke her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she had been
+      her son&rsquo;s own choice and a lady of a high degree, and she spoke kind
+      words to comfort her for the unkind neglect of Bertram in sending his wife
+      home on her bridal day alone. But this gracious reception failed to cheer
+      the sad mind of Helena, and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.&rdquo; She then read these
+      words out of Bertram&rsquo;s letter:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you can get the ring from my finger, which never shall come
+      off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write a Never.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a dreadful sentence!&rdquo; said Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram was gone,
+      she should be her child and that she deserved a lord that twenty such rude
+      boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly call her mistress. But in vain
+      by respectful condescension and kind flattery this matchless mother tried
+      to soothe the sorrows of her daughter-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena still kept her eyes fixed upon the letter, and cried out in an
+      agony of grief, &ldquo;TILL I HAVE NO WIFE, I HAVE NOTHING IN FRANCE.&rdquo;
+      The countess asked her if she found those words in the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, madam,&rdquo; was all poor Helena could answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be delivered to
+      the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her with the reason of her
+      sudden absence. In this letter she informed her that she was so much
+      grieved at having driven Bertram from his native country and his home,
+      that to atone for her offense, she had undertaken a pilgrimage to the
+      shrine of St. Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the countess
+      to inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his house forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became an officer
+      in the Duke of Florence&rsquo;s army, and after a successful war, in which
+      he distinguished himself by many brave actions, Bertram received letters
+      from his mother containing the acceptable tidings that Helena would no
+      more disturb him; and he was preparing to return home, when Helena
+      herself, clad in her pilgrim&rsquo;s weeds, arrived at the city of
+      Florence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on their way
+      to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this city she heard
+      that a hospitable widow dwelt there who used to receive into her house the
+      female pilgrims that were going to visit the shrine of that saint, giving
+      them lodging and kind entertainment. To this good lady, therefore, Helena
+      went, and the widow gave her a courteous welcome and invited her to see
+      whatever was curious in that famous city, and told her that if she would
+      like to see the duke&rsquo;s army she would take her where she might have
+      a full view of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will see a countryman of yours,&rdquo; said the widow.
+      &ldquo;His name is Count Rousillon, who has done worthy service in the
+      duke&rsquo;s wars.&rdquo; Helena wanted no second invitation, when she
+      found Bertram was to make part of the show. She accompanied her hostess;
+      and a sad and mournful pleasure it was to her to look once more upon her
+      dear husband&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he not a handsome man?&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like him well,&rdquo; replied Helena, with great truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the way they walked the talkative widow&rsquo;s discourse was all of
+      Bertram. She told Helena the story of Bertram&rsquo;s marriage, and how he
+      had deserted the poor lady his wife and entered into the duke&rsquo;s army
+      to avoid living with her. To this account of her own misfortunes Helena
+      patiently listened, and when it was ended the history of Bertram was not
+      yet done, for then the widow began another tale, every word of which sank
+      deep into the mind of Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram&rsquo;s
+      love for her daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the king, it
+      seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had been stationed with
+      the army at Florence he had fallen in love with Diana, a fair young
+      gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow who was Helena&rsquo;s hostess;
+      and every night, with music of all sorts, and songs composed in praise of
+      Diana&rsquo;s beauty, he would come under her window and solicit her love;
+      and all his suit to her was that she would permit him to visit her by
+      stealth after the family were retired to rest. But Diana would by no means
+      be persuaded to grant this improper request, nor give any encouragement to
+      his suit, knowing him to be a married man; for Diana had been brought up
+      under the counsels of a prudent mother, who, though she was now in reduced
+      circumstances, was well born and descended from the noble family of the
+      Capulets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this the good lady related to Helena, highly praising the virtuous
+      principles of her discreet daughter, which she said were entirely owing to
+      the excellent education and good advice she had given her; and she further
+      said that Bertram had been particularly importunate with Diana to admit
+      him to the visit he so much desired that night, because he was going to
+      leave Florence early the next morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram&rsquo;s love for the widow&rsquo;s
+      daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena conceived a
+      project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of her former one) to
+      recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the widow that she was Helena,
+      the deserted wife of Bertram, and requested that her kind hostess and her
+      daughter would suffer this visit from Bertram to take place, and allow her
+      to pass herself upon Bertram for Diana, telling them her chief motive for
+      desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband was to get a ring
+      from him, which, he had said, if ever she was in possession of he would
+      acknowledge her as his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair, partly
+      moved by pity for this unhappy, forsaken wife and partly won over to her
+      interest by the promises of reward which Helena made them, giving them a
+      purse of money in earnest of her future favor. In the course of that day
+      Helena caused information to be sent to Bertram that she was dead, hoping
+      that, when he thought himself free to make a second choice by the news of
+      her death, he would offer marriage to her in her feigned character of
+      Diana. And if she could obtain the ring and this promise, too, she doubted
+      not she should make some future good come of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into Diana&rsquo;s
+      chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The flattering
+      compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena were precious sounds
+      to her though she knew they were meant for Diana; and Bertram was so well
+      pleased with her that he made her a solemn promise to be her husband, and
+      to love her forever; which she hoped would be prophetic of a real
+      affection, when he should know it was his own wife, the despised Helena,
+      whose conversation had so delighted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps he would
+      not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every day, he had
+      entirely over looked her beauty; a face we are accustomed to see
+      constantly losing the effect which is caused by the first sight either of
+      beauty or of plainness; and of her understanding it was impossible he
+      should judge, because she felt such reverence, mixed with her love for
+      him, that she was always silent in his presence. But now that her future
+      fate, and the happy ending of all her love-projects, seemed to depend on
+      her leaving a favorable impression on the mind of Bertram from this night&rsquo;s
+      interview, she exerted all her wit to please him; and the simple graces of
+      her lively conversation and the endearing sweetness of her manners so
+      charmed Bertram that be vowed she should be his wife. Helena begged the
+      ring from off his finger as a token of his regard, and he gave it to her;
+      and in return for this ring, which it was of such importance to her to
+      possess, she gave him another ring, which was one the king had made her a
+      present of. Before it was light in the morning she sent Bertram away; and
+      he immediately set out on his journey toward his mother&rsquo;s house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena prevailed on the widow and Diana to accompany her to Paris, their
+      further assistance being necessary to the full accomplishment of the plan
+      she had formed. When they arrived there, they found the king was gone upon
+      a visit to the Countess of Rousillon, and Helena followed the king with
+      all the speed she could make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was still in perfect health, and his gratitude to her who had
+      been the means of his recovery was so lively in his mind that the moment
+      he saw the Countess of Rousillon he began to talk of Helena, calling her a
+      precious jewel that was lost by the folly of her son; but seeing the
+      subject distressed the countess, who sincerely lamented the death of
+      Helena, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the good-natured old Lafeu, who was present, and could not bear that
+      the memory of his favorite Helena should be so lightly passed over, said,
+      &ldquo;This I must say, the young lord did great offense to his Majesty,
+      his mother, and his lady; but to himself he did the greatest wrong of all,
+      for he has lost a wife whose beauty astonished all eyes, whose words took
+      all ears captive, whose deep perfection made all hearts wish to serve her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king said: &ldquo;Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
+      Well&mdash;call him hither&rdquo;; meaning Bertram, who now presented
+      himself before the king, and on his expressing deep sorrow for the
+      injuries he had done to Helena the king, for his dead father&rsquo;s and
+      his admirable mother&rsquo;s sake, pardoned him and restored him once more
+      to his favor. But the gracious countenance of the king was soon changed
+      toward him, for he perceived that Bertram wore the very ring upon his
+      finger which he had given to Helena; and he well remembered that Helena
+      had called all the saints in heaven to witness she would never part with
+      that ring unless she sent it to the king himself upon some great disaster
+      befalling her; and Bertram, on the king&rsquo;s questioning him how he
+      came by the ring, told an improbable story of a lady throwing it to him
+      out of a window, and denied ever having seen Helena since the day of their
+      marriage. The king, knowing Bertram&rsquo;s dislike to his wife, feared he
+      had destroyed her, and he ordered his guards to seize Bertram, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am wrapt in dismal thinking, for I fear the life of Helena was
+      foully snatched.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Diana and her mother entered and presented a petition to
+      the king, wherein they begged his Majesty to exert his royal power to
+      compel Bertram to marry Diana, he having made her a solemn promise of
+      marriage. Bertram, fearing the king&rsquo;s anger, denied he had made any
+      such promise; and then Diana produced the ring (which Helena had put into
+      her hands) to confirm the truth of her words; and she said that she had
+      given Bertram the ring he then wore, in exchange for that, at the time he
+      vowed to marry her. On hearing this the king ordered the guards to seize
+      her also; and, her account of the ring differing from Bertram&rsquo;s, the
+      king&rsquo;s suspicions were confirmed, and he said if they did not
+      confess how they came by this ring of Helena&rsquo;s they should be both
+      put to death. Diana requested her mother might be permitted to fetch the
+      jeweler of whom she bought the ring, which, being granted, the widow went
+      out, and presently returned, leading in Helena herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good countess, who in silent grief had beheld her son&rsquo;s danger,
+      and had even dreaded that the suspicion of his having destroyed his wife
+      might possibly be true, finding her dear Helena, whom she loved with even
+      a maternal affection, was still living, felt a delight she was hardly able
+      to support; and the king, scarce believing for joy that it was Helena,
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this indeed the wife of Bertram that I see?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena, feeling herself yet an unacknowledged wife, replied, &ldquo;No, my
+      good lord, it is but the shadow of a wife you see; the name and not the
+      thing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram cried out: &ldquo;Both, both! Oh pardon!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my lord,&rdquo; said Helena, &ldquo;when I personated this fair
+      maid I found you wondrous kind; and look, here is your letter!&rdquo;
+      reading to him in a joyful tone those words which she had once repeated so
+      sorrowfully, &ldquo;WHEN FROM MY FINGER YOU CAN GET THIS RING&mdash;This
+      is done; it was to me you gave the ring. Will you be mine, now you are
+      doubly won?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram replied, &ldquo;If you can make it plain that you were the lady I
+      talked with that night I will love you dearly, ever, ever dearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was no difficult task, for the widow and Diana came with Helena to
+      prove this fact; and the king was so well pleased with Diana for the
+      friendly assistance she had rendered the dear lady he so truly valued for
+      the service she had done him that he promised her also a noble husband,
+      Helena&rsquo;s history giving him a hint that it was a suitable reward for
+      kings to bestow upon fair ladies when they perform notable services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus Helena at last found that her father&rsquo;s legacy was indeed
+      sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven; for she was now the beloved
+      wife of her dear Bertram, the daughter-in-law of her noble mistress, and
+      herself the Countess of Rousillon.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap12"></a>TAMING OF THE SHREW</h2>
+    <p>
+      Katharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich
+      gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit and
+      fiery temper, such a loud-tongued scold, that she was known in Padua by no
+      other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed very unlikely, indeed
+      impossible, that any gentleman would ever be found who would venture to
+      marry this lady, and therefore Baptista was much blamed for deferring his
+      consent to many excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister
+      Bianca, putting off all Bianca&rsquo;s suitors with this excuse, that when
+      the eldest sister was fairly off his bands they should have free leave to
+      address young Bianca.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to Padua
+      purposely to look out for a wife, who, nothing discouraged by these
+      reports of Katharine&rsquo;s temper, and hearing she was rich and
+      handsome, resolved upon marrying this famous termagant, and taming her
+      into a meek and manageable wife. And truly none was so fit to set about
+      this herculean labor as Petruchio, whose spirit was as high as Katharine&rsquo;s,
+      and he was a witty and most happy-tempered humorist, and withal so wise,
+      and of such a true judgment, that he well knew how to feign a passionate
+      and furious deportment when his spirits were so calm that himself could
+      have laughed merrily at his own angry feigning, for his natural temper was
+      careless and easy; the boisterous airs he assumed when he became the
+      husband of Katharine being but in sport, or, more properly speaking,
+      affected by his excellent discernment, as the only means to overcome, in
+      her own way, the passionate ways of the furious Katharine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A-courting, then, Petruchio went to Katharine the Shrew; and first of all
+      he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave to woo his GENTLE DAUGHTER
+      Katharine, as Petruchio called her, saying, archly, that, having heard of
+      her bashful modesty and mild behavior, he had come from Verona to solicit
+      her love. Her father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess
+      Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent of what
+      manner of gentleness she was composed, for her music-master rushed into
+      the room to complain that the gentle Katharine, his pupil, had broken his
+      head with her lute for presuming to find fault with her performance;
+      which, when Petruchio heard, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have
+      some chat with her.&rdquo; And hurrying the old gentleman for a positive
+      answer, he said: &ldquo;My business is in haste, Signor Baptista. I cannot
+      come every day to woo. You knew my father. He is dead, and has left me
+      heir to all his lands and goods. Then tell me, if I get your daughter&rsquo;s
+      love, what dowry you will give with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but, being
+      glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would give her twenty
+      thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his estate at his death. So this
+      odd match was quickly agreed on and Baptista went to apprise his shrewish
+      daughter of her lover&rsquo;s addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to
+      listen to his suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of courtship
+      be should pursue; and he said: &ldquo;I will woo her with some spirit when
+      she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will tell her she sings as
+      sweetly as a nightingale; and if she frowns, I will say she looks as clear
+      as roses newly washed with dew. If she will not speak a word, I will
+      praise the eloquence of her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will
+      give her thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed her with:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully, &ldquo;They
+      call me Katharine who do speak to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie,&rdquo; replied the lover; &ldquo;for you are called plain
+      Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the
+      prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your mildness
+      praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms showing
+      him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he still praised
+      her sweet and courteous words, till at length, hearing her father coming,
+      he said (intending to make as quick a wooing as possible):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your father
+      has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is agreed on, and
+      whether you will or no I will marry you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had received
+      him kindly and that she had promised to be married the next Sunday. This
+      Katharine denied, saying she would rather see him hanged on Sunday, and
+      reproached her father for wishing to wed her to such a madcap ruffian as
+      Petruchio. Petruchio desired her father not to regard her angry words, for
+      they had agreed she should seem reluctant before him, but that when they
+      were alone he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel
+      against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the wedding
+      guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and rich clothes, that
+      my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on
+      Sunday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they waited long
+      before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for vexation to think that
+      Petruchio had only been making a jest of her. At last, however, he
+      appeared; but he brought none of the bridal finery be had promised
+      Katharine, nor was he dressed himself like a bridegroom, but in strange,
+      disordered attire, as if he meant to make a sport of the serious business
+      he came about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode were
+      in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said Katharine
+      was to be married to him, and not to his clothes. And, finding it was in
+      vain to argue with him, to the church they went, he still behaving in the
+      same mad way, for when the priest asked Petruchio if Katharine should be
+      his wife, he swore so loud that she should, that, all amazed, the priest
+      let fall his book, and as he stooped to take it up this mad-brained
+      bridegroom gave him such a cuff that down fell the priest and his book
+      again. And all the while they were being married he stamped and swore so
+      that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear. After the
+      ceremony was over, while they were yet in the church, he called for wine,
+      and drank a loud health to the company, and threw a sop which was at the
+      bottom of the glass full in the sexton&rsquo;s face, giving no other
+      reason for this strange act than that the sexton&rsquo;s beard grew thin
+      and hungerly, and seemed to ask the sop as he was drinking. Never sure was
+      there such a mad marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the
+      better to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his shrewish wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Baptista had provided a sumptuous marriage feast, but when they returned
+      from church, Petruchio, taking hold of Katharine, declared his intention
+      of carrying his wife home instantly, and no remonstrance of his
+      father-in-law, or angry words of the enraged Katharine, could make him
+      change his purpose. He claimed a husband&rsquo;s right to dispose of his
+      wife as he pleased, and away he hurried Katharine off; he seeming so
+      daring and resolute that no one dared attempt to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean and lank, which he
+      had picked out for the purpose, and, himself and his servant no better
+      mounted, they journeyed on through rough and miry ways, and ever when this
+      horse of Katharine&rsquo;s stumbled he would storm and swear at the poor
+      jaded beast, who could scarce crawl under his burthen, as if he had been
+      the most passionate man alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, after a weary journey, during which Katharine had heard nothing
+      but the wild ravings of Petruchio at the servant and the horses, they
+      arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed her kindly to her home, but he
+      resolved she should have neither rest nor food that night. The tables were
+      spread, and supper soon served; but Petruchio, pretending to find fault
+      with every dish, threw the meat about the floor, and ordered the servants
+      to remove it away; and all this he did, as he said, in love for his
+      Katharine, that she might not eat meat that was not well dressed. And when
+      Katharine, weary and supperless, retired to rest, he found the same fault
+      with the bed, throwing the pillows and bedclothes about the room, so that
+      she was forced to sit down in a chair, where, if, she chanced to drop
+      asleep, she was presently awakened by the loud voice of her husband
+      storming at the servants for the ill-making of his wife&rsquo;s
+      bridal-bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking kind words
+      to Katharine, but, when she attempted to eat, finding fault with
+      everything that was set before her, throwing the breakfast on the floor as
+      he had done the supper; and Katharine, the haughty Katharine, was fain to
+      beg the servants would bring her secretly a morsel of food; but they,
+      being instructed by Petruchio, replied they dared not give her anything
+      unknown to their master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;did he marry me to famish me? Beggars
+      that come to my father&rsquo;s door have food given them. But I, who never
+      knew what it was to entreat for anything, am starved for want of food,
+      giddy for want of sleep, with oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
+      and that which vexes me more than all, he does it under the name of
+      perfect love, pretending that if I sleep or eat, it were present death to
+      me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Petruchio. He, not
+      meaning she should be quite starved, had brought her a small portion of
+      meat, and he said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How fares my sweet Kate? Here, love, you see how diligent I am. I
+      have dressed your meat myself. I am sure this kindness merits thanks.
+      What, not a word? Nay, then you love not the meat, and all the pains I
+      have taken is to no purpose.&rdquo; He then ordered the servant to take
+      the dish away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katharine, made her say,
+      though angered to the heart, &ldquo;I pray you let it stand.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he replied,
+      &ldquo;The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall mine before
+      you touch the meat.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Katharine brought out a reluctant &ldquo;I thank you, sir.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying: &ldquo;Much good
+      may it do your gentle heart, Kate. Eat apace! And now, my honey love, we
+      will return to your father&rsquo;s house and revel it as bravely as the
+      best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings, with ruffs and scarfs
+      and fans and double change of finery.&rdquo; And to make her believe be
+      really intended to give her these gay things, he called in a tailor and a
+      haberdasher, who brought some new clothes he had ordered for her, and
+      then, giving her plate to the servant to take away, before she had half
+      satisfied her hunger, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, have you dined?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, &ldquo;Here is the cap your
+      worship bespoke.&rdquo; On which Petruchio began to storm afresh, saying
+      the cap was molded in a porringer and that it was no bigger than a cockle
+      or walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to take it away and make it
+      bigger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine said, &ldquo;I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps as
+      these.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you are gentle,&rdquo; replied Petruchio, &ldquo;you shall
+      have one, too, and not till then.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen spirits, and
+      she said: &ldquo;Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, and speak I
+      will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters have endured to hear me say my
+      mind; and if you cannot, you had better stop your ears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily discovered
+      a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a jangling argument with
+      her; therefore his answer was:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not
+      liking it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love me, or love me not,&rdquo; said Katharine, &ldquo;I like the
+      cap, and I will have this cap or none.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say you wish to see the gown,&rdquo; said Petruchio, still
+      affecting to misunderstand her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had made for
+      her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have neither cap nor
+      gown, found as much fault with that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, mercy, Heaven!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;what stuff is here! What,
+      do you call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down
+      like an apple tart.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tailor said, &ldquo;You bid me make it according to the fashion of the
+      times&rdquo;; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned gown.
+      This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these people might
+      be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them for the seemingly
+      strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he with fierce words and furious
+      gestures drove the tailor and the haberdasher out of the room; and then,
+      turning to Katharine, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father&rsquo;s even in
+      these mean garments we now wear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach Baptista&rsquo;s
+      house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven o&rsquo;clock. Now it was
+      not early morning, but the very middle of the day, when he spoke this;
+      therefore Katharine ventured to say, though modestly, being almost
+      overcome by the vehemence of his manner:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare assure you, sir, it is two o&rsquo;clock, and will be
+      suppertime before we get there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that she
+      should assent to everything he said before he carried her to her father;
+      and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and could command the
+      hours, he said it. should be what time he pleased to have it, before beset
+      forward. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;whatever I say or do, you
+      still are crossing it. I will not go to-day, and when I go, it shall be
+      what o&rsquo;clock I say it is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found obedience,
+      and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a perfect subjection
+      that she dared not remember there was such a word as contradiction would
+      Petruchio allow her to go to her father&rsquo;s house; and even while they
+      were upon their journey thither she was in danger of being turned back
+      again, only because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed
+      the moon shone brightly at noonday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, by my mother&rsquo;s son,&rdquo; said be, &ldquo;and that is
+      myself, it shall be the moon, or stars, or what I list, before I journey
+      to your father&rsquo;s house.&rdquo; He then made as if he were going back
+      again. But Katharine, no longer Katharine the Shrew, but the obedient
+      wife, said, &ldquo;Let us go forward, I pray, now we have come so far, and
+      it shall be the sun, or moon, or what you please; and if you please to
+      call it a rush candle henceforth, I vow it shall be so for me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This he was resolved to prove, therefore he said again, &ldquo;I say it is
+      the moon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it is the moon,&rdquo; replied Katharine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie. It is the blessed sun,&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is the blessed sun,&rdquo; replied Katharine; &ldquo;but
+      sun it is not when you say it is not. What you will have it named, even so
+      it is, and so it ever shall be for Katharine.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now then he suffered her to proceed on her journey; but further to try if
+      this yielding humor would last, he addressed an old gentleman they met on
+      the road as if he had been a young woman, saying to him, &ldquo;Good
+      morrow, gentle mistress&rdquo;; and asked Katharine if she had ever beheld
+      a fairer gentlewoman, praising the red and white of the old man&rsquo;s
+      cheeks, and comparing his eyes to two bright stars; and again he addressed
+      him, saying, &ldquo;Fair, lovely maid, once more good day to you!&rdquo;
+      and said to his wife, &ldquo;Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty&rsquo;s
+      sake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The now completely vanquished Katharine quickly adopted her husband&rsquo;s
+      opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old gentleman, saying to
+      him: &ldquo;Young budding virgin, you are fair and fresh and sweet.
+      Whither are you going, and where is your dwelling? Happy are the parents
+      of so fair a child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how now, Kate,&rdquo; said Petruchio. &ldquo;I hope you are
+      not mad. This is a man, old and wrinkled, faded and withered, and not a
+      maiden, as you say he is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Katharine said, &ldquo;Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so
+      dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seemeth green. Now I perceive
+      you are a reverend father. I hope you will pardon me for my sad mistake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do, good old grandsire,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;and tell us
+      which way you are traveling. We shall be glad of your good company, if you
+      are going our way.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old gentleman replied: &ldquo;Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
+      your strange encounter has much amazed me. My name is Vincentio, and I am
+      going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of Lucentio, a
+      young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista&rsquo;s younger
+      daughter, Bianca, and he made Vincentio very happy by telling him the rich
+      marriage his son was about to make; and they all journeyed on pleasantly
+      together till they came to Baptista&rsquo;s house, where there was a large
+      company assembled to celebrate the wedding of Bianca and Lucentio,
+      Baptista having willingly consented to the marriage of Bianca when he had
+      got Katharine off his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast, and there
+      was present also another newly married pair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucentio, Bianca&rsquo;s husband, and Hortensio, the other new-married
+      man, could not forbear sly jests, which seemed to hint at the shrewish
+      disposition of Petruchio&rsquo;s wife, and these fond bridegrooms seemed
+      highly pleased with the mild tempers of the ladies they had chosen,
+      laughing at Petruchio for his less fortunate choice. Petruchio took little
+      notice of their jokes till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then
+      he perceived Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him, for when
+      Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than theirs,
+      the father of Katharine said, &ldquo;Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
+      I fear you have got the veriest shrew of all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I say no, and therefore, for
+      assurance that I speak the truth, let us each one send for his wife, and
+      he whose wife is most obedient to come at first when she is sent for shall
+      win a wager which we will propose.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this the other two husbands willingly consented, for they were
+      confident that their gentle wives would prove more obedient than the
+      headstrong Katharine, and they proposed a wager of twenty crowns. But
+      Petruchio merrily said he would lay as much as that upon his hawk or
+      hound, but twenty times as much upon his wife. Lucentio and Hortensio
+      raised the wager to a hundred crowns, and Lucentio first sent his servant
+      to desire Bianca would come to him. But the servant returned, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;does she say she is busy and
+      cannot come? Is that an answer for a wife?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they laughed at him, and said it would be well if Katharine did not
+      send him a worse answer. And now it was Hortensio&rsquo;s turn to send for
+      his wife; and be said to his servant, &ldquo;Go, and entreat my wife to
+      come to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh ho! entreat her!&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, then, she needs must come.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid, sir,&rdquo; said Hortensio, &ldquo;your wife will not
+      be entreated.&rdquo; But presently this civil husband looked a little
+      blank when the servant returned without his mistress; and he said to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now? Where is my wife?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the servant, &ldquo;my mistress says you have some
+      goodly jest in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come to
+      her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Worse and worse!&rdquo; said Petruchio. And then he sent his
+      servant, saying, &ldquo;Sirrah, go to your mistress and tell her I command
+      her to come to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this summons
+      when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharine!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio, &ldquo;What is your will,
+      sir, that you send for me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your sister and Hortensio&rsquo;s wife?&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine replied, &ldquo;They sit conferring by the parlor fire.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, fetch them hither!&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Away went Katharine without reply to perform her husband&rsquo;s command.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is a wonder,&rdquo; said Lucentio, &ldquo;if you talk of a
+      wonder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so it is,&rdquo; said Hortensio. &ldquo;I marvel what it bodes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marry, peace it bodes,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;and love, and
+      quiet life, and right supremacy; and, to be short, everything that is
+      sweet and happy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine&rsquo;s father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his
+      daughter, said: &ldquo;Now, fair befall thee, son Petruchio! You have won
+      the wager, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns to her dowry, as
+      if she were another daughter, for she is changed as if she had never been.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I will win the wager better yet,
+      and show more signs of her new-built virtue and obedience.&rdquo;
+      Katharine now entering with the two ladies, he continued: &ldquo;See where
+      she comes, and brings your froward wives as prisoners to her womanly
+      persuasion. Katharine, that cap of yours does not become you; off with
+      that bauble, and throw it underfoot.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine instantly took off her cap and threw it down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord!&rdquo; said Hortensio&rsquo;s wife, &ldquo;may I never have a
+      cause to sigh till I am brought to such a silly pass!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Bianca, she, too, said, &ldquo;Fie! What foolish duty call you this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Bianca&rsquo;s husband said to her, &ldquo;I wish your duty were
+      as foolish, too! The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, has cost me a
+      hundred crowns since dinner-time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more fool you,&rdquo; said Bianca, &ldquo;for laying on my
+      duty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Katharine,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I charge you tell these
+      headstrong women what duty they owe their lords and husbands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And to the wonder of all present, the reformed shrewish lady spoke as
+      eloquently in praise of the wifelike duty of obedience as she had
+      practised it implicitly in a ready submission to Petruchio&rsquo;s will.
+      And Katharine once more became famous in Padua, not as heretofore as
+      Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the most obedient and duteous wife
+      in Padua.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap13"></a>THE COMEDY OF ERRORS</h2>
+    <p>
+      The states of Syracuse and Ephesus being at variance, there was a cruel
+      law made at Ephesus, ordaining that if any merchant of Syracuse was seen
+      in the city of Ephesus he was to be put to death, unless he could pay a
+      thousand marks for the ransom of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon, an old merchant of Syracuse, was discovered in the streets of
+      Ephesus, and brought before the duke, either to pay this heavy fine or
+      receive sentence of death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon had no money to pay the fine, and the duke, before he pronounced
+      the sentence of death upon him, desired him to relate the history of his
+      life, and to tell for what cause he had ventured to come to the city of
+      Ephesus, which it was death for any Syracusan merchant to enter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon said that he did not fear to die, for sorrow had made him weary of
+      his life, but that a heavier task could not have been imposed upon him
+      than to relate the events of his unfortunate life. He then began his own
+      history, in the following words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was born at Syracuse, and brought up to the profession of a
+      merchant. I married a lady, with whom I lived very happily, but, being
+      obliged to go to Epidamnum, I was detained there by my business six
+      months, and then, finding I should be obliged to stay some time longer, I
+      sent for my wife, who, as soon as she arrived, was brought to bed of two
+      sons, and what was very strange, they were both so exactly alike that it
+      was impossible to distinguish the one from the other. At the same time
+      that my wife was brought to bed of these twin boys a poor woman in the inn
+      where my wife lodged was brought to bed of two sons, and these twins were
+      as much like each other as my two sons were. The parents of these children
+      being exceeding poor, I bought the two boys and brought them up to attend
+      upon my sons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sons were very fine children, and my wife was not a little proud
+      of two such boys; and she daily wishing to return home, I unwillingly
+      agreed, and in an evil hour we got on shipboard, for we had not sailed
+      above a league from Epidamnum before a dreadful storm arose, which
+      continued with such violence that the sailors, seeing no chance of saving
+      the ship, crowded into the boat to save their own lives, leaving us alone
+      in the ship, which we every moment expected would be destroyed by the fury
+      of the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The incessant weeping of my wife and the piteous complaints of the
+      pretty babes, who, not knowing what to fear, wept for fashion, because
+      they saw their mother weep, filled me with terror for them, though I did
+      not for myself fear death; and all my thoughts were bent to contrive means
+      for their safety. I tied my youngest son to the end of a small spire mast,
+      such as seafaring men provide against storms; at the other end I bound the
+      youngest of the twin slaves, and at the same time I directed my wife how
+      to fasten the other children in like manner to another mast. She thus
+      having the care of the eldest two children, and I of the younger two, we
+      bound ourselves separately to these masts with the children; and but for
+      this contrivance we had all been lost, for the ship split on a mighty rock
+      and was dashed in pieces; and we, clinging to these slender masts, were
+      supported above the water, where I, having the care of two children, was
+      unable to assist my wife, who, with the other children, was soon separated
+      from me; but while they were yet in my sight they were taken up by a boat
+      of fishermen, from Corinth (as I supposed), and, seeing them in safety, I
+      had no care but to struggle with the wild sea-waves, to preserve my dear
+      son and the youngest slave. At length we, in our turn, were taken up by a
+      ship, and the sailors, knowing me, gave us kind welcome and assistance and
+      landed us in safety at Syracuse; but from that sad hour I have never known
+      what became of my wife and eldest child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My youngest son, and now my only care, when he was eighteen years
+      of age, began to be inquisitive after his mother and his brother, and
+      often importuned me that he might take his attendant, the young slave, who
+      had also lost his brother, and go in search of them. At length I
+      unwillingly gave consent, for, though I anxiously desired to hear tidings
+      of my wife and eldest son, yet in sending my younger one to find them I
+      hazarded the loss of him also. It is now seven years since my son left me;
+      five years have I passed in traveling through the world in search of him.
+      I have been in farthest Greece, and through the bounds of Asia, and,
+      coasting homeward, I landed here in Ephesus, being unwilling to leave any
+      place unsought that harbors men; but this day must end the story of my
+      life, and happy should I think myself in my death if I were assured my
+      wife and sons were living.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the hapless Aegeon ended the account of his misfortunes; and the
+      duke, pitying this unfortunate father who had brought upon himself this
+      great peril by his love for his lost son, said if it were not against the
+      laws, which his oath and dignity did not permit him to alter, he would
+      freely pardon him; yet, instead of dooming him to instant death, as the
+      strict letter of the law required, he would give him that day to try if he
+      could beg or borrow the money to pay the fine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This day of grace did seem no great favor to Aegeon, for, not knowing any
+      man in Ephesus, there seemed to him but little chance that any stranger
+      would lend or give him a thousand marks to pay the fine; and, helpless and
+      hopeless of any relief, he retired from the presence of the duke in the
+      custody of a jailer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon supposed he knew no person in Ephesus; but at the time he was in
+      danger of losing his life through the careful search he was making after
+      his youngest son that son, and his eldest son also, were in the city of
+      Ephesus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon&rsquo;s sons, besides being exactly alike in face and person, were
+      both named alike, being both called Antipholus, and the two twin slaves
+      were also both named Dromio. Aegeon&rsquo;s youngest son, Antipholus of
+      Syracuse, he whom the old man had come to Ephesus to seek, happened to
+      arrive at Ephesus with his slave Dromio that very same day that Aegeon
+      did; and he being also a merchant of Syracuse, he would have been in the
+      same danger that his father was, but by good fortune he met a friend who
+      told him the peril an old merchant of Syracuse was in, and advised him to
+      pass for a merchant of Epidamnum. This Antipholus agreed to do, and he was
+      sorry to hear one of his own countrymen was in this danger, but he little
+      thought this old merchant was his own father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The eldest son of Aegeon (who must be called Antipholus of Ephesus, to
+      distinguish him from his brother Antipholus of Syracuse) had lived at
+      Ephesus twenty years, and, being a rich man, was well able to have paid
+      the money for the ransom of his father&rsquo;s life; but Antipholus knew
+      nothing of his father, being so young when he was taken out of the sea
+      with his mother by the fishermen that he only remembered he had been so
+      preserved; but he had no recollection of either his father or his mother,
+      the fishermen who took up this Antipholus and his mother and the young
+      slave Dromio having carried the two children away from her (to the great
+      grief of that unhappy lady), intending to sell them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus and Dromio were sold by them to Duke Menaphon, a famous
+      warrior, who was uncle to the Duke of Ephesus, and he carried the boys to
+      Ephesus when he went to visit the duke, his nephew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke of Ephesus, taking a liking to young Antipholus, when he grew up
+      made him an officer in his army, in which he distinguished himself by his
+      great bravery in the wars, where he saved the life of his patron, the
+      duke, who rewarded his merit by marrying him to Adriana, a rich lady of
+      Ephesus, with whom he was living (his slave Dromio still attending him) at
+      the time his father came there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse, when he parted with his friend, who, advised him
+      to say he came from Epidamnum, gave his slave Dromio some money to carry
+      to the inn where he intended to dine, and in the mean time he said he
+      would walk about and view the city and observe the manners of the people.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio was a pleasant fellow, and when Antipholus was dull and melancholy
+      he used to divert himself with the odd humors and merry jests of his
+      slave, so that the freedoms of speech he allowed in Dromio were greater
+      than is usual between masters and their servants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Antipholus of Syracuse had sent Dromio away, he stood awhile thinking
+      over his solitary wanderings in search of his mother and his brother, of
+      whom in no place where he landed could he hear the least tidings; and he
+      said sorrowfully to himself, &ldquo;I am like a drop of water in the
+      ocean. which, seeking to find its fellow drop, loses itself in the wide
+      sea, So I, unhappily, to find a mother and a brother, do lose myself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was thus meditating on his weary travels, which had hitherto been
+      so useless, Dromio (as he thought) returned. Antipholus, wondering that he
+      came back so soon, asked him where he had left the money. Now it was not
+      his own Dromio, but the twin-brother that lived with Antipholus of
+      Ephesus, that he spoke to. The two Dromios and the two Antipholuses were
+      still as much alike as Aegeon had said they were in their infancy;
+      therefore no wonder Antipholus thought it was his own slave returned, and
+      asked him why he came back so soon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio replied: &ldquo;My mistress sent me to bid you come to dinner. The
+      capon burns, and the pig falls from the spit, and the meat will be all
+      cold if you do not come home.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These jests are out of season,&rdquo; said Antipholus. &ldquo;Where
+      did you leave the money?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio still answering that his mistress had sent him to fetch Antipholus
+      to dinner, &ldquo;What mistress?&rdquo; said Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, your worship&rsquo;s wife, sir!&rdquo; replied Dromio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus having no wife, he was very angry with Dromio, and said:
+      &ldquo;Because I familiarly sometimes chat with you, you presume to jest
+      with me in this free manner. I am not in a sportive humor now. Where is
+      the money? We being strangers here, how dare you trust so great a charge
+      from your own custody?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio, hearing his master, as he thought him, talk of their being
+      strangers, supposing Antipholus was jesting, replied, merrily: &ldquo;I
+      pray you, sir, jest as you sit at dinner. I had no charge but to fetch you
+      home to dine with my mistress and her sister.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Antipholus lost all patience, and beat Dromio, who ran home and told
+      his mistress that his master had refused to come to dinner and said that
+      he had no wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, the wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, was very angry when she heard
+      that her husband said he had no wife; for she was of a jealous temper, and
+      she said her husband meant that he loved another lady better than herself;
+      and she began to fret, and say unkind words of jealousy and reproach of
+      her husband; and her sister Luciana, who lived with her, tried in vain to
+      persuade her out of her groundless suspicions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse went to the inn, and found Dromio with the money in
+      safety there, and, seeing his own Dromio, he was going again to chide him
+      for his free jests, when Adriana came up to him, and, not doubting but it
+      was her husband she saw, she began to reproach him for looking strange
+      upon her (as well he might, never having seen this angry lady before); and
+      then she told him how well he loved her before they were married, and that
+      now he loved some other lady instead of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How comes it now, my husband,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;oh, how comes
+      it that I have lost your love?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plead you to me, fair dame?&rdquo; said the astonished Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in vain he told her he was not her husband and that he had been in
+      Ephesus but two hours. She insisted on his going home with her, and
+      Antipholus at last, being unable to get away, went with her to his brother&rsquo;s
+      house, and dined with Adriana and her sister, the one calling him husband
+      and the other brother, he, all amazed, thinking he must have been married
+      to her in his sleep, or that he was sleeping now. And Dromio, who followed
+      them, was no less surprised, for the cook-maid, who was his brother&rsquo;s
+      wife, also claimed him for her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Antipholus of Syracuse was dining with his brother&rsquo;s wife, his
+      brother, the real husband, returned home to dinner with his slave Dromio;
+      but the servants would not open the door, because their mistress had
+      ordered them not to admit any company; and when they repeatedly knocked,
+      and said they were Antipholus and Dromio, the maids laughed at them, and
+      said that Antipholus was at dinner with their mistress, and Dromio was in
+      the kitchen, and though they almost knocked the door down, they could not
+      gain admittance, and at last Antipholus went away very angry, and
+      strangely surprised at, hearing a gentleman was dining with his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Antipholus of Syracuse had finished his dinner, he was so perplexed
+      at the lady&rsquo;s still persisting in calling him husband, and at
+      hearing that Dromio had also been claimed by the cookmaid, that he left
+      the house as soon as he could find any pretense to get away; for though he
+      was very much pleased with Luciana, the sister, yet the jealous-tempered
+      Adriana he disliked very much, nor was Dromio at all better satisfied with
+      his fair wife in the kitchen; therefore both master and man were glad to
+      get away from their new wives as fast as they could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment Antipholus of Syracuse had left the house he was met by a
+      goldsmith, who, mistaking him, as Adriana had done, for Antipholus of
+      Ephesus, gave him a gold chain, calling him by his name; and when
+      Antipholus would have refused the chain, saying it did not belong to him,
+      the goldsmith replied he made it by his own orders, and went away, leaving
+      the chain in the hands of Antipholus, who ordered his man Dromio to get
+      his things on board a ship, not choosing to stay in a place any longer
+      where he met with such strange adventures that he surely thought himself
+      bewitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The goldsmith who had given the chain to the wrong Antipholus was arrested
+      immediately after for a sum of money he owed; and Antipholus, the married
+      brother, to whom the goldsmith thought he had given the chain, happened to
+      come to the place where the officer was arresting the goldsmith, who, when
+      he saw Antipholus, asked him to pay for the gold chain he had just
+      delivered to him, the price amounting to nearly the same sum as that for
+      which he had been arrested. Antipholus denying the having received the
+      chain, and the goldsmith persisting to declare that he had but a few
+      minutes before given it to him, they disputed this matter a long time,
+      both thinking they were right; for Antipholus knew the goldsmith never
+      gave him the chain, and so like were the two brothers, the goldsmith was
+      as certain he had delivered the chain into his hands, till at last the
+      officer took the goldsmith away to prison for the debt he owed, and at the
+      same time the goldsmith made the officer arrest Antipholus for the price
+      of the chain; so that at the conclusion of their dispute Antipholus and
+      the merchant were both taken away to prison together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Antipholus was going to prison, he met Dromio of Syracuse, his brother&rsquo;s
+      slave, and, mistaking him for his own, he ordered him to go to Adriana his
+      wife, and tell her to send the money for which he was arrested. Dromio,
+      wondering that his master should send him back to the strange house where
+      he dined, and from which he had just before been in such haste to depart,
+      did not dare to reply, though he came to tell his master the ship was
+      ready to sail, for he saw Antipholus was in no humor to be jested with.
+      Therefore he went away, grumbling within himself that he must return to
+      Adriana&rsquo;s house, &ldquo;Where,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;Dowsabel
+      claims me for a husband. But I must go, for servants must obey their
+      masters&rsquo; commands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana gave him the money, and as Dromio was returning he met Antipholus
+      of Syracuse, who was still in amaze at the surprising adventures he met
+      with, for, his brother being well known in Ephesus, there was hardly a man
+      he met in the streets but saluted him as an old acquaintance. Some offered
+      him money which they said was owing to him, some invited him to come and
+      see them, and some gave him thanks for kindnesses they said he had done
+      them, all mistaking him for his brother. A tailor showed him some silks he
+      had bought for him, and insisted upon taking measure of him for some
+      clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus began to think he was among a nation of sorcerers and witches,
+      and Dromio did not at all relieve his master from his bewildered thoughts
+      by asking him how he got free from the officer who was carrying him to
+      prison, and giving him the purse of gold which Adriana had sent to pay the
+      debt with. This talk of Dromio&rsquo;s of the arrest and of a prison, and
+      of the money he had brought from Adriana, perfectly confounded Antipholus,
+      and he said, &ldquo;This fellow Dromio is certainly distracted, and we
+      wander here in illusions,&rdquo; and, quite terrified at his own confused
+      thoughts, he cried out, &ldquo;Some blessed power deliver us from this
+      strange place!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now another stranger came up to him, and she was a lady, and she, too,
+      called him Antipholus, and told him he had dined with her that day, and
+      asked him for a gold chain which she said he had promised to give her.
+      Antipholus now lost all patience, and, calling her a sorceress, he denied
+      that he had ever promised her a chain, or dined with her, or had even seen
+      her face before that moment. The lady persisted in affirming he had dined
+      with her and had promised her a chain, which Antipholus still denying, she
+      further said that she had given him a valuable ring, and if he would not
+      give her the gold chain, she insisted upon having her own ring again. On
+      this Antipholus became quite frantic, and again calling her sorceress and
+      witch, and denying all knowledge of her or her ring, ran away from her,
+      leaving her astonished at his words and his wild looks, for nothing to her
+      appeared more certain than that he had dined with her, and that she had
+      given him a ring in consequence of his promising to make her a present of
+      a gold chain. But this lady had fallen into the same mistake the others
+      had done, for she had taken him for his brother; the married Antipholus
+      had done all the things she taxed this Antipholus with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the married Antipholus was denied entrance into his house (those
+      within supposing him to be already there) be had gone away very angry,
+      believing it to be one of his wife&rsquo;s jealous freaks, to which she
+      was very subject, and, remembering that she had often falsely accused him
+      of visiting other ladies, he, to be revenged on her for shutting him out
+      of his own house, determined to go and dine with this lady, and she
+      receiving him with great civility, and his wife having so highly offended
+      him, Antipholus promised to give her a gold chain which he had intended as
+      a present for his wife; it was the same chain which the goldsmith by
+      mistake had given to his brother. The lady liked so well the thoughts of
+      having a fine gold chain that she gave the married Antipholus a ring;
+      which when, as she supposed (taking his brother for him), he denied, and
+      said he did not know her, and left her in such a wild passion, she began
+      to think he was certainly out of his senses; and presently she resolved to
+      go and tell Adriana that her husband was mad. And while she was telling it
+      to Adriana he came, attended by the jailer (who allowed him to come home
+      to get the money to pay the debt), for the purse of money which Adriana
+      had sent by Dromio and he had delivered to the other Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana believed the story the lady told her of her husband&rsquo;s
+      madness must be true when he reproached her for shutting him out of his
+      own house; and remembering how he had protested all dinner-time that he
+      was not her husband and had never been in Ephesus till that day, she had
+      no doubt that he was mad; she therefore paid the jailer the money, and,
+      having discharged him, she ordered her servants to bind her husband with
+      ropes, and had him conveyed into a dark room, and sent for a doctor to
+      come and cure him of his madness, Antipholus all the while hotly
+      exclaiming against this false accusation, which the exact likeness he bore
+      to his brother had brought upon him. But his rage only the more confirmed
+      them in the belief that he was mad; and Dromio persisting in the same
+      story, they bound him also and took him away along with his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon after Adriana had put her husband into confinement a servant came to
+      tell her that Antipholus and Dromio must have broken loose from their
+      keepers, for that they were both walking at liberty in the next street. On
+      hearing this Adriana ran out to fetch him home, taking some people with
+      her to secure her husband again; and her sister went along with her. When
+      they came to the gates of a convent in their neighborhood, there they saw
+      Antipholus and Dromio, as they thought, being again deceived by the
+      likeness of the twin brothers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse was still beset with the perplexities this likeness
+      had brought upon him. The chain which the goldsmith had given him was
+      about his neck, and the goldsmith was reproaching him for denying that he
+      had it and refusing to pay for it, and Antipholus was protesting that the
+      goldsmith freely gave him the chain in the morning, and that from that
+      hour he had never seen the goldsmith again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Adriana came up to him and claimed him as her lunatic husband who
+      had escaped from his keepers, and the men she brought with her were going
+      to lay violent hands on Antipholus and Dromio; but they ran into the
+      convent, and Antipholus begged the abbess to give him shelter in her
+      house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now came out the lady abbess herself to inquire into the cause of this
+      disturbance. She was a grave and venerable lady, and wise to judge of what
+      she saw, and she would not too hastily give up the man who had sought
+      protection in her house; so she strictly questioned the wife about the
+      story she told of her husband&rsquo;s madness, and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the cause of this sudden distemper of your husband&rsquo;s?
+      Has he lost his wealth at sea? Or is it the death of some dear friend that
+      has disturbed his mind?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana replied that no such things as these had been the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said the abbess, &ldquo;he has fixed his affections
+      on some other lady than you, his wife, and that has driven him to this
+      state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana said she had long thought the love of some other lady was the
+      cause of his frequent absences from home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now it was not his love for another, but the teasing jealousy of his wife&rsquo;s
+      temper, that often obliged Antipholus to leave his home; and the abbess
+      (suspecting this from the vehemence of Adriana&rsquo;s manner), to learn
+      the truth, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should have reprehended him for this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, so I did,&rdquo; replied Adriana.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said the abbess, &ldquo;but perhaps not enough.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, willing to convince the abbess that she had said enough to
+      Antipholus on this subject, replied: &ldquo;It was the constant subject of
+      our conversation; in bed I would not let him sleep for speaking of it. At
+      table I would not let him eat for speaking of it. When I was alone with
+      him I talked of nothing else; and in company I gave him frequent hints of
+      it. Still all my talk was how vile and bad it was in him to love any lady
+      better than me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady abbess, having drawn this full confession from the jealous
+      Adriana, now said: &ldquo;And therefore comes it that your husband is mad.
+      The venomous clamor of a jealous woman is a more deadly poison than a mad
+      dog&rsquo;s tooth. It seems his sleep was hindered by your railing; no
+      wonder that his head is light; and his meat was sauced with your
+      upbraidings; unquiet meals make ill digestions, and that has thrown him
+      into this fever. You say his sports were disturbed by your brawls; being
+      debarred from the enjoyment of society and recreation, what could ensue
+      but dull melancholy and comfortless despair? The consequence is, then,
+      that your jealous fits have made your husband mad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Luciana would have excused her sister, saying she always reprehended her
+      husband mildly; and she said to her sister, &ldquo;Why do you hear these
+      rebukes without answering them?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the abbess had made her so plainly perceive her fault that she could
+      only answer, &ldquo;She has betrayed me to my own reproof.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, though ashamed of her own conduct, still insisted on having her
+      husband delivered up to her; but the abbess would suffer no person to
+      enter her house, nor would she deliver up this unhappy man to the care of
+      the jealous wife, determining herself to use gentle means for his
+      recovery, and she retired into her house again, and ordered her gates to
+      be shut against them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the course of this eventful day, in which so many errors had
+      happened from the likeness the twin brothers bore to each other, old
+      Aegeon&rsquo;s day of grace was passing away, it being now near sunset;
+      and at sunset he was doomed to die if he could not pay the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The place of his execution was near this convent, and here he arrived just
+      as the abbess retired into the convent; the duke attending in person,
+      that, if any offered to pay the money, he might be present to pardon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana stopped this melancholy procession, and cried out to the duke for
+      justice, telling him that the abbess had refused to deliver up her lunatic
+      husband to her care. While she was speaking, her real husband and his
+      servant, Dromio, who had got loose, came before the duke to demand
+      justice, complaining that his wife had confined him on a false charge of
+      lunacy, and telling in what manner he had broken his bands and eluded the
+      vigilance of his keepers. Adriana was strangely surprised to see her
+      husband when she thought he had been within the convent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left him to go
+      in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt secure that this dear
+      son would readily pay the money demanded for his ransom. He therefore
+      spoke to Antipholus in words of fatherly affection, with joyful hope that
+      he should now be released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his
+      son denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this Antipholus had
+      never seen his father since they were separated in the storm in his
+      infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in vain endeavoring to make his
+      son acknowledge him, thinking surely that either his griefs and the
+      anxieties he had suffered had so strangely altered him that his son did
+      not know him or else that he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his
+      misery&mdash;in the midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other
+      Antipholus and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands
+      and two Dromios standing before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all, were
+      clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and the two
+      Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured aright of these
+      seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story Aegeon had told him in the
+      morning; and he said these men must be the two sons of Aegeon and their
+      twin slaves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of Aegeon; and
+      the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and under sentence of
+      death, before the setting sun went down was brought to a happy conclusion,
+      for the venerable lady abbess made herself known to be the long-lost wife
+      of Aegeon and the fond mother of the two Antipholuses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away from her,
+      she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous conduct she was at
+      length made lady abbess of this convent and in discharging the rites of
+      hospitality to an unhappy stranger she had unknowingly protected her own
+      son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these
+      long-separated parents and their children made them for a while forget
+      that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they were become a
+      little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke the ransom money for
+      his father&rsquo;s life; but the duke freely pardoned Aegeon, and would
+      not take the money. And the duke went with the abbess and her newly found
+      husband and children into the convent, to hear this happy family discourse
+      at leisure of the blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two
+      Dromios&rsquo; humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their
+      congratulations and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly
+      complimented his brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his
+      own person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her mother-in-law that
+      she never after cherished unjust suspicions nor was jealous of her
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of his brother&rsquo;s
+      wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and sons, lived at Ephesus
+      many years. Nor did the unraveling of these perplexities so entirely
+      remove every ground of mistake for the future but that sometimes, to
+      remind them of adventures past, comical blunders would happen, and the one
+      Antipholus, and the one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making
+      altogether a pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap14"></a>MEASURE FOR MEASURE</h2>
+    <p>
+      In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild and gentle
+      temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the laws with impunity;
+      and there was in particular one law the existence of which was almost
+      forgotten, the duke never having put it in force during his whole reign.
+      This was a law dooming any man to the punishment of death who should live
+      with a woman that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of
+      the duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage
+      became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke by the
+      parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters had been
+      seduced from their protection and were living as the companions of single
+      men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his subjects;
+      but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the indulgence he had
+      hitherto shown, to the strict severity requisite to check this abuse,
+      would make his people (who had hitherto loved him) consider him as a
+      tyrant; therefore he determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom
+      and depute another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against
+      these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving offense
+      by an unusual severity in his own person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for his strict
+      and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person to undertake this
+      important charge; and when the duke imparted his design to Lord Escalus,
+      his chief counselor, Escalus said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and
+      honor, it is Lord Angelo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a journey
+      into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in his absence; but
+      the duke&rsquo;s absence was only a feigned one, for he privately returned
+      to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the intent to watch unseen the
+      conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his new
+      dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced a young lady
+      from her parents; and for this offense, by command of the new lord deputy,
+      Claudio was taken up and committed to prison, and by virtue of the old law
+      which had been so long neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded.
+      Great interest was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old
+      Lord Escalus himself interceded for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this gentleman whom I would save had
+      an honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young man&rsquo;s
+      transgression.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Angelo replied: &ldquo;We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+      setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it harmless,
+      makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and Claudio said
+      to him: &ldquo;I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service. Go to my sister
+      Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the convent of Saint Clare;
+      acquaint her with the danger of my state; implore her that she make
+      friends with the strict deputy; bid her go herself to Angelo. I have great
+      hopes in that; for she can discourse with prosperous art, and well she can
+      persuade; besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such
+      as moves men.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered upon her
+      novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after passing through her
+      probation as a novice, to take the veil, and she was inquiring of a nun
+      concerning the rules of the convent when they heard the voice of Lucio,
+      who, as he entered that religious house, said, &ldquo;Peace be in this
+      place!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it that speaks?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a man&rsquo;s voice,&rdquo; replied the nun. &ldquo;Gentle
+      Isabel, go to him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you
+      have taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence of
+      the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face, or if you
+      show your face you must not speak.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And have you nuns no further privileges?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are not these large enough?&rdquo; replied the nun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, truly,&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;I speak not as desiring
+      more, but rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the
+      votarists of Saint Clare.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: &ldquo;He calls
+      again. I pray you answer him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation, said:
+      &ldquo;Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: &ldquo;Hail, virgin, if
+      such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no less! Can you
+      bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this place, and the fair
+      sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why her unhappy brother?&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;let me ask! for
+      I am that Isabel and his sister.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fair and gentle lady,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;your brother kindly
+      greets you by me; he is in prison.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Woe is me! for what?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio then told her Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young maiden.
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I fear it is my cousin Juliet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other cousin in
+      remembrance of their school-days&rsquo; friendship; and as Isabel knew
+      that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been led by her affection
+      for him into this transgression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She it is,&rdquo; replied Lucio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, let my brother marry Juliet,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio replied that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that the lord
+      deputy had sentenced him to die for his offense. &ldquo;Unless,&rdquo;
+      said he, &ldquo;you have the grace by your fair prayer to soften Angelo,
+      and that is my business between you and your poor brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;what poor ability is there in me
+      to do him good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our doubts are traitors,&rdquo; said Lucio, &ldquo;and make us lose
+      the good we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to Lord Angelo!
+      When maidens sue and kneel and weep men give like gods.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will see what I can do said Isabel. &ldquo;I will but stay to
+      give the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.
+      Commend me to my brother. Soon at night I will send him word of my
+      success.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel hastened to the palace and threw herself on her knees before
+      Angelo, saying, &ldquo;I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, if it will
+      please your Honor to hear me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is your suit?&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her brother&rsquo;s
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Angelo said, &ldquo;Maiden, there is no remedy; your brother is
+      sentenced, and he must die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, just but severe law!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;I had a brother
+      then. Heaven keep your Honor!&rdquo; and she was about to depart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said: &ldquo;Give it not over so;
+      return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang upon his
+      gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you could not with a
+      more tame tongue desire it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is sentenced,&rdquo; said Angelo. &ldquo;It is too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Why, no! I that do speak a
+      word may call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
+      great ones belongs, not the king&rsquo;s crown, nor the deputed sword, the
+      marshal&rsquo;s truncheon, nor the judge&rsquo;s robe, becomes them with
+      one half so good a grace as mercy does.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray you begone,&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But still Isabel entreated; and she said: &ldquo;If my brother had been as
+      you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he, like you,
+      would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had your power and you
+      were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I would tell you what it were to
+      be a judge, and what a prisoner.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be content, fair maid!&rdquo; said Angelo: &ldquo;it is the law,
+      not I, condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son,
+      it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow?&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Oh, that is sudden! Spare
+      him, spare him. He is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we
+      kill the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than we
+      minister to our gross selves? Good, good, my lord, bethink you, none have
+      died for my brother&rsquo;s offense, though many have committed it. So you
+      would be the first that gives this sentence and he the first that suffers
+      it. Go to your own bosom, my lord; knock there, and ask your heart what it
+      does know that is like my brother&rsquo;s fault; if it confess a natural
+      guiltiness such as his is, let it not sound a thought against my brother&rsquo;s
+      life!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her last words more moved Angelo than all she had before said, for the
+      beauty of Isabel had raised a guilty passion in his heart and he began to
+      form thoughts of dishonorable love, such as Claudio&rsquo;s crime had
+      been, and the conflict in his mind made him to turn away from Isabel; but
+      she called him back, saying: &ldquo;Gentle my lord, turn back. Hark, how I
+      will bribe you. Good my lord, turn back!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How! bribe me?&rdquo; said Angelo, astonished that she should think
+      of offering him a bribe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;with such gifts that Heaven itself
+      shall share with you; not with golden treasures, or those glittering
+      stones whose price is either rich or poor as fancy values them, but with
+      true prayers that shall be up to Heaven before sunrise&mdash;prayers from
+      preserved souls, from fasting maids whose minds are dedicated to nothing
+      temporal.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come to me to-morrow,&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And for this short respite of her brother&rsquo;s life, and for this
+      permission that she might be heard again, she left him with the joyful
+      hope that she should at last prevail over his stern nature. And as she
+      went away she said: &ldquo;Heaven keep your Honor safe! Heaven save your
+      Honor!&rdquo; Which, when Angelo heard, he said within his heart, &ldquo;Amen,
+      I would be saved from thee and from thy virtues.&rdquo; And then,
+      affrighted at his own evil thoughts, he said: &ldquo;What is this? What is
+      this? Do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again and feast upon
+      her eyes? What is it I dream on? The cunning enemy of mankind, to catch a
+      saint, with saints does bait the hook. Never could an immodest woman once
+      stir my temper, but this virtuous woman subdues me quite. Even till now,
+      when men were fond, I smiled and wondered at them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the guilty conflict in his mind Angelo suffered more that night than
+      the prisoner he had so severely sentenced; for in the prison Claudio was
+      visited by the good duke, who, in his friar&rsquo;s habit, taught the
+      young man the way to heaven, preaching to him the words of penitence and
+      peace. But Angelo felt all the pangs of irresolute guilt, now wishing to
+      seduce Isabel from the paths of innocence and honor, and now suffering
+      remorse and horror for a crime as yet but intentional. But in the end his
+      evil thoughts prevailed; and he who had so lately started at the offer of
+      a bribe resolved to tempt this maiden with so high a bribe as she might
+      not be able to resist, even with the precious gift of her dear brother&rsquo;s
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Isabel came in the morning Angelo desired she might be admitted alone
+      to his presence; and being there, he said to her, if she would yield to
+      him her virgin honor and transgress even as Juliet had done with Claudio,
+      he would give her her brother&rsquo;s life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I love you, Isabel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;did so love Juliet, and yet
+      you tell me he shall die for it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Angelo, &ldquo;Claudio shall not die if you will
+      consent to visit me by stealth at night, even as Juliet left her father&rsquo;s
+      house at night to come to Claudio.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, in amazement at his words, that he should tempt her to the same
+      fault for which he passed sentence upon her brother, said, &ldquo;I would
+      do as much for my poor brother as for myself; that is, were I under
+      sentence of death, the impression of keen whips I would wear as rubies,
+      and go to my death as to a bed that longing I had been sick for, ere I
+      would yield myself up to this shame.&rdquo; And then she told him she
+      hoped he only spoke these words to try her virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he said, &ldquo;Believe me, on my honor, my words express my purpose.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, angered to the heart to hear him use the word honor to express
+      such dishonorable purposes, said: &ldquo;Ha! little honor to be much
+      believed; and most pernicious purpose. I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look
+      for it! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or I will tell the world
+      aloud what man thou art!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who will believe you, Isabel?&rdquo; said Angelo; &ldquo;my
+      unsoiled name, the austereness of my life, my word vouched against yours,
+      will outweigh your accusation. Redeem your brother by yielding to my will,
+      or he shall die to-morrow. As for you, say what you can, my false will
+      overweigh your true story. Answer me to-morrow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe me?&rdquo;
+      said Isabel, as she went toward the dreary prison where her brother was
+      confined. When she arrived there her brother was in pious conversation
+      with the duke, who in his friar&rsquo;s habit had also visited Juliet and
+      brought both these guilty lovers to a proper sense of their fault; and
+      unhappy Juliet with tears and a true remorse confessed that she was more
+      to blame than Claudio, in that she willingly consented to his dishonorable
+      solicitations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Isabel entered the room where Claudio was confined, she said, &ldquo;Peace
+      be here, grace, and good company!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; said the disguised duke. &ldquo;Come in; the
+      wish deserves a welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My business is a word or two with Claudio,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke left them together, and desired the provost who had the
+      charge of the prisoners to place him where he might overhear their
+      conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, sister, what is the comfort?&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel told him he must prepare for death on the morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there no remedy?&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, brother,&rdquo; replied Isabel, &ldquo;there is; but such a
+      one as if you consented to it would strip your honor from you and leave
+      you naked.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me know the point,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I do fear you, Claudio!&rdquo; replied his sister; &ldquo;and I
+      quake, lest you should wish to live, and more respect the trifling term of
+      six or seven winters added to your life than your perpetual honor! Do you
+      dare to die? The sense of death is most in apprehension, and the poor
+      beetle that we tread upon feels a pang as great as when a giant dies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you give me this shame?&rdquo; said Claudio. &ldquo;Think
+      you I can fetch a resolution from flowery tenderness? If I must die, I
+      will encounter darkness as a bride and hug it in my arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There spoke my brother,&rdquo; said Isabel; &ldquo;there my father&rsquo;s
+      grave did utter forth a voice! Yes, you must die; yet would you think it,
+      Claudio, this outward sainted deputy, if I would yield to him my virgin
+      honor, would grant your life? Oh, were it but my life, I would lay it down
+      for your deliverance as frankly as a pin!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, dear Isabel,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be ready to die to-morrow,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Death is a fearful thing,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And shamed life a hateful,&rdquo; replied his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the thoughts of death now overcame the constancy of Claudio&rsquo;s
+      temper, and terrors, such as the guilty only at their deaths do know,
+      assailing him, he cried out: &ldquo;Sweet sister, let me live! The sin you
+      do to save a brother&rsquo;s life, nature dispenses with the deed so far
+      that it becomes a virtue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Would
+      you preserve your life by your sister&rsquo;s shame? Oh, fie, fie, fie! I
+      thought, my brother, you had in you such a mind of honor that, had you
+      twenty heads to render up on twenty blocks, you would have yielded them up
+      all before your sister should stoop to such dishonor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, hear me, Isabel!&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what he would have said in defense of his weakness in desiring to live
+      by the dishonor of his virtuous sister was interrupted by the entrance of
+      the duke; who said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Claudio, I have overheard what has passed between you and your
+      sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; what he said, has
+      only been to make trial of her virtue. She, having the truth of honor in
+      her, has given him that gracious denial which he is most ill glad to
+      receive. There is no hope that he will pardon you; therefore pass your
+      hours in prayer, and make ready for death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Claudio repented of his weakness, and said: &ldquo;Let me ask my
+      sister&rsquo;s pardon! I am so out of love with life that I will sue to be
+      rid of it.&rdquo; And Claudio retired, overwhelmed with shame and sorrow
+      for his fault.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, being now alone with Isabel, commended her virtuous resolution,
+      saying, &ldquo;The hand that made you fair has made you good.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;how much is the good duke deceived
+      in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will discover his
+      government.&rdquo; Isabel knew not that she was even now making the
+      discovery she threatened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;That shall not be much amiss; yet as the matter
+      now stands, Angelo will repel your accusation; therefore lend an attentive
+      ear to my advisings. I believe that you may most righteously do a poor
+      wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem your brother from the angry law, do
+      no stain to your own most gracious person, and much please the absent
+      duke, if peradventure he shall ever return to have notice of this
+      business.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel said she had a spirit to do anything he desired, provided it was
+      nothing wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Virtue is bold and never fearful,&rdquo; said the duke: and then he
+      asked her, if she had ever heard of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the
+      great soldier who was drowned at sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard of the lady,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;and good words
+      went with her name.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This lady,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;is the wife of Angelo; but
+      her marriage dowry was on board the vessel in which her brother perished,
+      and mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman! for, besides the
+      loss of a most noble and renowned brother, who in his love toward her was
+      ever most kind and natural, in the wreck of her fortune she lost the
+      affections of her husband, the well-seeming Angelo, who, pretending to
+      discover some dishonor in this honorable lady (though the true cause was
+      the loss of her dowry), left her in her tears and dried not one of them
+      with his comfort. His unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have
+      quenched her love, has, like an impediment in the current, made it more
+      unruly, and Mariana loves her cruel husband with the full continuance of
+      her first affection.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then more plainly unfolded his plan. It was that Isabel should go
+      to Lord Angelo and seemingly consent to come to him as he desired at
+      midnight; that by this means she would obtain the promised pardon; and
+      that Mariana should go in her stead to the appointment, and pass herself
+      upon Angelo in the dark for Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor, gentle daughter,&rdquo; said the feigned friar, &ldquo;fear
+      you to this thing. Angelo is her husband, and to bring them thus together
+      is no sin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, being pleased with this project, departed to do as he directed
+      her; and he went to apprise Mariana of their intention. He had before this
+      time visited this unhappy lady in his assumed character, giving her
+      religious instruction and friendly consolation, at which times he had
+      learned her sad story from her own lips; and now she, looking upon him as
+      a holy man, readily consented to be directed by him in this undertaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Isabel returned from her interview with Angelo, to the house of
+      Mariana, where the duke had appointed her to meet him, he said: &ldquo;Well
+      met, and in good time. What is the news from this good deputy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel related the manner in which she had settled the affair. &ldquo;Angelo,&rdquo;
+      said she, &ldquo;has a garden surrounded with a brick wall, on the western
+      side of which is a vineyard, and to that vineyard is a gate.&rdquo; And
+      then she showed to the duke and Mariana two keys that Angelo had given
+      her; and she said: &ldquo;This bigger key opens the vineyard gate; this
+      other a little door which leads from the vineyard to the garden. There I
+      have made my promise at the dead of the night to call upon him, and have
+      got from him his word of assurance for my brother&rsquo;s life. I have
+      taken a due and wary note of the place; and with whispering and most
+      guilty diligence he showed me the way twice over.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there no other tokens agreed upon between you, that Mariana
+      must observe?&rdquo; said the duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, none,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;only to go when it is dark. I
+      have told him my time can be but short; for I have made him think a
+      servant comes along with me, and that this servant is persuaded I come
+      about my brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke commended her discreet management, and she, turning to Mariana,
+      said, &ldquo;Little have you to say to Angelo, when you depart from him,
+      but soft and low, REMEMBER NOW MY BROTHER!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mariana was that night conducted to the appointed place by Isabel, who
+      rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by this device preserved both her
+      brother&rsquo;s life and her own honor. But that her brother&rsquo;s life
+      was safe the duke was not well satisfied, and therefore at midnight he
+      again repaired to the prison, and it was well for Claudio that he did so,
+      else would Claudio have that night been beheaded; for soon after the duke
+      entered the prison an order came from the cruel deputy commanding that
+      Claudio should be beheaded and his head sent to him by five o&rsquo;clock
+      in the morning. But the duke persuaded the provost to put off the
+      execution of Claudio, and to deceive Angelo by sending him the head of a
+      man who died that morning in the prison. And to prevail upon the provost
+      to agree to this, the duke, whom still the provost suspected not to be
+      anything more or greater than he seemed, showed the provost a letter
+      written with the duke&rsquo;s hand, and sealed with his seal, which when
+      the provost saw, he concluded this friar must have some secret order from
+      the absent duke, and therefore he consented to spare Claudio; and he cut
+      off the dead man&rsquo;s head and carried it to Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke in his own name wrote to Angelo a letter saying that certain
+      accidents had put a stop to his journey and that he should be in Vienna by
+      the following morning, requiring Angelo to meet him at the entrance of the
+      city, there to deliver up his authority; and the duke also commanded it to
+      be proclaimed that if any of his subjects craved redress for injustice
+      they should exhibit their petitions in the street on his first entrance
+      into the city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the morning Isabel came to the prison, and the duke, who there
+      awaited her coming, for secret reasons thought it good to tell her that
+      Claudio was beheaded; therefore when Isabel inquired if Angelo had sent
+      the pardon for her brother, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Angelo has released Claudio from this world. His head is off and
+      sent to the deputy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The much-grieved sister cried out, &ldquo;O unhappy Claudio, wretched
+      Isabel, injurious world, most wicked Angelo!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The seeming friar bid her take comfort, and when she was become a little
+      calm he acquainted her with the near prospect of the duke&rsquo;s return
+      and told her in what manner she should proceed in preferring her complaint
+      against Angelo; and he bade her not fear if the cause should seem to go
+      against her for a while. Leaving Isabel sufficiently instructed, he next
+      went to Mariana and gave her counsel in what manner she also should act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke laid aside his friar&rsquo;s habit, and in his own royal
+      robes, amid a joyful crowd of his faithful subjects assembled to greet his
+      arrival, entered the city of Vienna, where he was met by Angelo, who
+      delivered up his authority in the proper form. And there came Isabel, in
+      the manner of a petitioner for redress, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Justice, most royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who, for
+      the seducing a young maid, was condemned to lose his head. I made my suit
+      to lord Angelo for my brother&rsquo;s pardon. It were needless to tell
+      your Grace how I prayed and kneeled, how he repelled me, and how I
+      replied; for this was of much length. The vile conclusion I now begin with
+      grief and pain to utter. Angelo would not, but by my yielding to his
+      dishonorable love, release my brother; and after much debate within myself
+      my sisterly remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him. But the
+      next morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his promise, sent a warrant for
+      my poor brother&rsquo;s head!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke affected to disbelieve her story; and Angelo said that grief for
+      her brother&rsquo;s death, who had suffered by the due course of the law,
+      had disordered her senses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now another suitor approached, which was Mariana; and Mariana said:
+      &ldquo;Noble prince, as there comes light from heaven and truth from
+      breath, as there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am this man&rsquo;s
+      wife, and, my good lord, the words of Isabel are false, for the night she
+      says she was with Angelo I passed that night with him in the garden-house.
+      As this is true let me in safety rise, or else forever be fixed here a
+      marble monument.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then did Isabel appeal for the truth of what she had said to Friar
+      Lodowick, that being the name the duke had assumed in his disguise. Isabel
+      and Mariana had both obeyed his instructions in what they said, the duke
+      intending that the innocence of Isabel should be plainly proved in that
+      public manner before the whole city of Vienna; but Angelo little thought
+      that it was from such a cause that they thus differed in their story, and
+      he hoped from their contradictory evidence to be able to clear himself
+      from the accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming the look of offended
+      innocence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is
+      touched, and I perceive these poor, distracted women are but the
+      instruments of some greater one who sets them on. Let me have way, my
+      lord, to find this practice out.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, with all my heart,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;and punish
+      them to the height of your pleasure. You, Lord Escalus, sit with Lord
+      Angelo, lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for
+      that set them on, and when he comes do with your injuries as may seem best
+      in any chastisement. I for a while will leave you, but stir not you, Lord
+      Angelo, till you have well determined upon this slander.&rdquo; The duke
+      then went away, leaving Angelo well pleased to be deputed judge and umpire
+      in his own cause. But the duke was absent only while he threw off his
+      royal robes and put on his friar&rsquo;s habit; and in that disguise again
+      he presented himself before Angelo and Escalus. And the good old Escalus,
+      who thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed friar,
+      &ldquo;Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He replied: &ldquo;Where is the duke? It is he who should hear me speak.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Escalus said: &ldquo;The duke is in us, and we will hear you. Speak
+      justly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boldly, at least,&rdquo; retorted the friar; and then he blamed the
+      duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had accused,
+      and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had observed while, as he
+      said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna, that, Escalus threatened, him
+      with the torture for speaking words against the state and for censuring
+      the conduct of the duke, and ordered him to be taken away to prison. Then,
+      to the amazement of all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the
+      supposed friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke first addressed Isabel. He said to her: &ldquo;Come hither,
+      Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have not
+      changed my heart. I am still devoted to your service.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, give me pardon,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;that I, your vassal,
+      have employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her for not having
+      prevented the death of her brother for not yet would he tell her that
+      Claudio was living; meaning first to make a further trial of her goodness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad deeds, and
+      be said: &ldquo;O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
+      to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive your Grace, like power
+      divine, has looked upon my actions. Then, good prince, no longer prolong
+      my shame, but let my trial be my own confession. Immediate sentence and
+      death is all the grace I beg.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;Angelo, thy faults are manifest. We do condemn
+      thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste
+      away with him; and for his possessions, Mariana, we do instate and widow
+      you withal, to buy you a better husband.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my dear lord,&rdquo; said Mariana, &ldquo;I crave no other, nor
+      no better man!&rdquo; And then on her knees, even as Isabel had begged the
+      life of Claudio, did this kind wife of an ungrateful husband beg the life
+      of Angelo; and she said: &ldquo;Gentle my liege, O good my lord! Sweet
+      Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees and all my life to come I will
+      lend you all my life, to do you service!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke said: &ldquo;Against all sense you importune her. Should Isabel
+      kneel down to beg for mercy, her brother&rsquo;s ghost would break his
+      paved bed and take her hence in horror.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Mariana said: &ldquo;Isabel, sweet Isabel, do but kneel by me, hold
+      up your hand, say nothing! I will speak all. They say best men are molded
+      out of faults, and for the most part become much the better for being a
+      little bad. So may my husband. O Isabel! will you not lend a knee?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then said, &ldquo;He dies for Claudio.&rdquo; But much pleased
+      was the good duke when his own Isabel, from whom he expected all gracious
+      and honorable acts, kneeled down before him, and said: &ldquo;Most
+      bounteous sir, look, if it please you, on this man condemned, as if my
+      brother lived. I partly think a due sincerity governed his deeds till he
+      did look on me. Since it is so, let him not die! My brother had but
+      justice in that he did the thing for which he died.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, as the best reply he could make to this noble petitioner for her
+      enemy&rsquo;s life, sending for Claudio from his prisonhouse, where he lay
+      doubtful of his destiny, presented to her this lamented brother living;
+      and he said to Isabel: &ldquo;Give me your hand, Isabel. For your lovely
+      sake I pardon Claudio. Say you will be mine, and he shall be my brother,
+      too.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By this time Lord Angelo perceived he was safe; and the duke, observing
+      his eye to brighten up a little, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Angelo, look that you love your wife; her worth has obtained
+      your pardon. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I have confessed her
+      and know her virtue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief authority, how hard his
+      heart had been, and felt how sweet is mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke commanded Claudio to marry Juliet, and offered himself again to
+      the acceptance of Isabel, whose virtuous and noble conduct had won her
+      prince&rsquo;s heart. Isabel, not having taken the veil, was free to
+      marry; and the friendly offices, while hid under the disguise of a humble
+      friar, which the noble duke had done for her, made her with grateful joy
+      accept the honor he offered her; and when she became Duchess of Vienna the
+      excellent example of the virtuous Isabel worked such a complete
+      reformation among the young ladies of that city, that from that time none
+      ever fell into the transgression of Juliet, the repentant wife of the
+      reformed Claudio. And the mercy-loving duke long reigned with his beloved
+      Isabel, the happiest of husbands and of princes.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap15"></a>TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL</h2>
+    <p>
+      Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of Messaline,
+      were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder) from their birth they
+      so much resembled each other that, but for the difference in their dress,
+      they could not be known apart. They were both born in one hour, and in one
+      hour they were both in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on
+      the coast of Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship
+      on board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and a very
+      small number of the ship&rsquo;s company escaped with their lives. The
+      captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that were saved, got to
+      land in a small boat, and with them they brought Viola safe on shore,
+      where she, poor lady, instead of rejoicing at her own deliverance, began
+      to lament her brother&rsquo;s loss; but the captain comforted her with the
+      assurance that he had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten
+      himself to a strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of
+      him for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves. Viola was
+      much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and now considered bow
+      she was to dispose of herself in a strange country, so far from home; and
+      she asked the captain if he knew anything of Illyria.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, very well, madam,&rdquo; replied the captain, &ldquo;for I was
+      born not three hours&rsquo; travel from this place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who governs here?&rdquo; said Viola. The captain told her Illyria
+      was governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he was
+      unmarried then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he is so now,&rdquo; said the captain; &ldquo;or was so very
+      late for, but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
+      talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of) that
+      Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the daughter of a
+      count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to the protection of her
+      brother, who shortly after died also; and for the love of this dear
+      brother, they say, she has abjured the sight and company of men.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother&rsquo;s
+      loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly mourned a
+      brother&rsquo;s death. She asked the captain if be could introduce her to
+      Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this lady. But he replied this
+      would be a hard thing to accomplish, because the Lady Olivia would admit
+      no person into her house since her brother&rsquo;s death, not even the
+      duke himself. Then Viola formed another project in her mind, which was, in
+      a man&rsquo;s habit, to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange
+      fancy in a young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
+      forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of uncommon
+      beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her excuse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he showed a
+      friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her design, and he
+      readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him money and directed him to
+      furnish her with suitable apparel, ordering her clothes to be made of the
+      same color and in the same fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and
+      when she was dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her
+      brother that some strange errors happened by means of their being mistaken
+      for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian was also saved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola&rsquo;s good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
+      pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got her
+      presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The duke was
+      wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful deportment of this
+      handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his pages, that being the office
+      Viola wished to obtain; and she so well fulfilled the duties of her new
+      station, and showed such a ready observance and faithful attachment to her
+      lord, that she soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
+      confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To Cesario he
+      told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one who, rejecting his
+      long services and despising his person, refused to admit him to her
+      presence; and for the love of this lady who had so unkindly treated him
+      the noble Orsino, forsaking the sports of the field and all manly
+      exercises in which he used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth,
+      listening to the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and
+      passionate love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
+      lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long conversing
+      with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his grave courtiers thought
+      Cesario was for their once noble master, the great Duke Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes of
+      handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her sorrow, for all
+      that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she presently perceived she
+      suffered for the love of him, and much it moved her wonder that Olivia
+      could be so regardless of this her peerless lord and master, whom she
+      thought no one could behold without the deepest admiration, and she
+      ventured gently to hint to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a
+      lady who was so blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
+      perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in return)
+      would you not tell her that you could not love, and must she not be
+      content with this answer?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that it was
+      possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no woman&rsquo;s heart
+      was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore it was unfair to
+      compare the love of any lady for him to his love for Olivia. Now, though
+      Viola had the utmost deference for the duke&rsquo;s opinions, she could
+      not help thinking this was not quite true, for she thought her heart had
+      full as much love in it as Orsino&rsquo;s had; and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but I know, my lord.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know, Cesario?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too well I know,&rdquo; replied Viola, &ldquo;what love women may
+      owe to men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a daughter
+      loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love your lordship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is her history?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A blank, my lord,&rdquo; replied Viola. &ldquo;She never told her
+      love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
+      cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy she
+      sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this question
+      Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had feigned the story,
+      to speak words expressive of the secret love and silent grief she suffered
+      for Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had sent to
+      Olivia, and he said, &ldquo;So please you, my lord, I might not be
+      admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you this answer:
+      Until seven years hence the element itself shall not behold her face; but
+      like a cloistress she will walk veiled, watering her chamber with her
+      tears for the sad remembrance of her dead brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On hearing this the duke exclaimed, &ldquo;Oh, she that has a heart of
+      this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how will she
+      love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then he said to Viola: &ldquo;You know, Cesario, I have told you all
+      the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to Olivia&rsquo;s
+      house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell her there your
+      fixed foot shall grow till you have audience.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?&rdquo; said Viola.
+    </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then,&rdquo; replied Orsino, &ldquo;unfold to her the passion of my
+love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well become you to
+act my woes, for she will attend more to you than to one of graver
+aspect.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this courtship, for
+she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she wished to marry; but, having
+undertaken the affair, she performed it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard
+that a youth was at her door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.
+</p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him,&rdquo; said the servant, &ldquo;that you were sick. He
+      said he knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told him
+      that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of that, too, and
+      said that therefore he must speak with you. What is to be said to him,
+      lady? for he seems fortified against all denial, and will speak with you,
+      whether you will or no.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired be
+      might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her face, she said she
+      would once more hear Orsino&rsquo;s embassy, not doubting but that he came
+      from the duke, by his importunity. Viola, entering, put on the most manly
+      air she could assume, and, affecting the fine courtier language of great
+      men&rsquo;s pages, she said to the veiled lady:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell me
+      if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to cast away my
+      speech upon another; for besides that it is excellently well penned, I
+      have taken great pains to learn it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whence come you, sir?&rdquo; said Olivia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can say little more than I have studied,&rdquo; replied Viola,
+      and that question is out of my part.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a comedian?&rdquo; said Olivia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Viola; &ldquo;and yet I am not that which I
+      play,&rdquo; meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man.
+      And again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see her
+      rival&rsquo;s features than haste to deliver her master&rsquo;s message,
+      said, &ldquo;Good madam, let me see your face.&rdquo; With this bold
+      request Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom the
+      Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight conceived a passion
+      for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, &ldquo;Have you any
+      commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?&rdquo; And
+      then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven long years, she
+      drew aside her veil, saying: &ldquo;But I will draw the curtain and show
+      the picture. Is it not well done?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied: &ldquo;It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
+      your cheeks is by Nature&rsquo;s own cunning hand laid on. You are the
+      most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and leave the
+      world no copy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sir,&rdquo; replied Olivia, &ldquo;I will not be so cruel. The
+      world may have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
+      red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin; and so
+      forth. Were you sent here to praise me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied, &ldquo;I see what you are: you are too proud, but you are
+      fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but be
+      recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for Orsino loves
+      you with adoration and with tears, with groans that thunder love, and
+      sighs of fire.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your lord,&rdquo; said Olivia, &ldquo;knows well my mind. I cannot
+      love him; yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
+      high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him learned,
+      courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might have taken his
+      answer long ago.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I did love you as my master does,&rdquo; said Viola, &ldquo;I
+      would make me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I
+      would write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
+      the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would make Echo,
+      the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh, you should not rest
+      between the elements of earth and air, but you should pity me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might do much,&rdquo; said Olivia. &ldquo;What is your
+      parentage?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied: &ldquo;Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
+      gentleman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: &ldquo;Go to your master
+      and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more, unless perchance you
+      come again to tell me how he takes it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair Cruelty.
+      When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY FORTUNES, YET MY
+      STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said aloud, &ldquo;I will be
+      sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs, action, and spirit plainly
+      show he is a gentleman.&rdquo; And then she wished Cesario was the duke;
+      and, perceiving the fast hold he had taken on her affections, she blamed
+      herself for her sudden love; but the gentle blame which people lay upon
+      their own faults has no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so
+      far forgot the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
+      page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament of a
+      lady&rsquo;s character, that she resolved to court the love of young
+      Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring, under the
+      pretense that he had left it with her as a present from Orsino. She hoped
+      by thus artfully making Cesario a present of the ring she should give him
+      some intimation of her design; and truly it did make Viola suspect; for,
+      knowing that Orsino had sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that
+      Olivia&rsquo;s looks and manner were expressive of admiration, and she
+      presently guessed her master&rsquo;s mistress had fallen in love with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;the poor lady might as well love a
+      dream. Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
+      fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola returned to Orsino&rsquo;s palace, and related to her lord the ill
+      success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia that the duke
+      should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke persisted in hoping that
+      the gentle Cesario would in time be able to persuade her to show some
+      pity, and therefore he bade him he should go to her again the next day. In
+      the mean time, to pass away the tedious interval, he commanded a song
+      which he loved to be sung; and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
+      did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain. The
+      spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun, and the young maids
+      that weave their thread with bone, chant this song. It is silly, yet I
+      love it, for it tells of the innocence of love in the old times.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   SONG
+
+  Come away, come away, Death,
+    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+  Fly away, fly away, breath,
+    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
+My part of death no one so true did share it.
+  Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
+    On my black coffin let there be strewn:
+  Not a friend, not a friend greet
+    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
+A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where
+Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in such true
+      simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and she bore testimony
+      in her countenance of feeling what the song expressed. Her sad looks were
+      observed by Orsino, who said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
+      looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little, with your leave,&rdquo; replied Viola.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of your age and of your complexion, my lord,&rdquo; said Viola;
+      which made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
+      much older than himself and of a man&rsquo;s dark complexion; but Viola
+      secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no difficulty in
+      gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when their ladies delight to
+      converse with handsome young messengers; and the instant Viola arrived the
+      gates were thrown wide open, and the duke&rsquo;s page was shown into
+      Olivia&rsquo;s apartment with great respect. And when Viola told Olivia
+      that she was come once more to plead in her lord&rsquo;s behalf, this lady
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
+      undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music from the
+      spheres.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself still
+      more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she saw displeasure
+      with perplexity expressed in Viola&rsquo;s face, she said: &ldquo;Oh, what
+      a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt and anger of his lip!
+      Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by maidhood, honor, and by truth, I
+      love you so that, in spite of your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to
+      conceal my passion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence, threatening
+      never more to come to plead Orsino&rsquo;s love; and all the reply she
+      made to Olivia&rsquo;s fond solicitation was, a declaration of a
+      resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her valor. A
+      gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned how that lady had
+      favored the duke&rsquo;s messenger, challenged him to fight a duel. What
+      should poor Viola do, who, though she carried a man-like outside, had a
+      true woman&rsquo;s heart and feared to look on her own sword?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his sword
+      drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a woman; but she was
+      relieved at once from her terror, and the shame of such a discovery, by a
+      stranger that was passing by, who made up to them, and as if he had been
+      long known to her and were her dearest friend said to her opponent:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault on
+      me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to inquire the
+      reason of his kind interference, her new friend met with an enemy where
+      his bravery was of no use to him; for the officers of justice coming up in
+      that instant, apprehended the stranger in the duke&rsquo;s name, to answer
+      for an offense he had committed some years before; and he said to Viola:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This comes with seeking you.&rdquo; And then he asked her for a
+      purse, saying: &ldquo;Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
+      grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what befalls
+      myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him not, nor
+      had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness he had just shown
+      her she offered him a small sum of money, being nearly the whole she
+      possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe things, charging her with
+      ingratitude and unkindness. He said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death, and
+      for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into this danger.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of their
+      prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, &ldquo;What is that to us?&rdquo;
+      And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name of Sebastian,
+      reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning his friend, as long as he
+      was within hearing. When Viola heard herself called Sebastian, though the
+      stranger was taken away too hastily for her to ask an explanation, she
+      conjectured that this seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken
+      for her brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
+      whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was. The
+      stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had taken
+      Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with fatigue, he was
+      floating on the mast to which he had fastened himself in the storm.
+      Antonio conceived such a friendship for Sebastian that he resolved to
+      accompany him whithersoever he went; and when the youth expressed a
+      curiosity to visit Orsino&rsquo;s court, Antonio, rather than part from
+      him, came to Illyria, though he knew, if his person should be known there,
+      his life would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
+      dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino&rsquo;s nephew. This was the offense
+      for which he was now made a prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before Antonio
+      met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring him to use it
+      freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase, telling him he would wait
+      at the inn while Sebastian went to view the town; but, Sebastian not
+      returning at the time appointed, Antonio had ventured out to look for him,
+      and, priest made Orsino believe that his page had robbed him of the
+      treasure he prized above his life. But thinking that it was past recall,
+      he was bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
+      DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to come in
+      his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle appeared! for
+      another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as his wife. This new
+      Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of Olivia; and when their wonder
+      had a little ceased at seeing two persons with the same face, the same
+      voice, and the same habit, the brother and sister began to question each
+      other; for Viola could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living,
+      and Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed drowned
+      being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola presently acknowledged
+      that she was indeed Viola, and his sister, under that disguise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness between
+      this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at the Lady Olivia
+      for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling in love with a woman; and
+      Olivia showed no dislike to her exchange, when she found she had wedded
+      the brother instead of the sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of Olivia, and
+      with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to vanish away, and all his
+      thoughts were fixed on the event of his favorite, young Cesario, being
+      changed into a fair lady. He viewed Viola with great attention, and he
+      remembered how very handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he
+      concluded she would look very beautiful in a woman&rsquo;s attire; and
+      then he remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the time
+      seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but now he guessed
+      that something more was meant, for many of her pretty sayings, which were
+      like riddles to him, came now into his mind, and he no sooner remembered
+      all these things than he resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to
+      her (he still could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
+      love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have done for me
+      so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and since you have called
+      me master so long, you shall now be your master&rsquo;s mistress, and
+      Orsino&rsquo;s true duchess.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she had so
+      ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her house and
+      offered the assistance of the good priest who had married her to Sebastian
+      in the morning to perform the same ceremony in the remaining part of the
+      day for Orsino and Viola. Thus the twin brother and sister were both
+      wedded on the same day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them
+      being the means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
+      was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the husband of
+      the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap16"></a>TIMON OF ATHENS</h2>
+    <p>
+      Timon, a lord of Athens, in the enjoyment of a princely fortune, affected
+      a humor of liberality which knew no limits. His almost infinite wealth
+      could not flow in so fast but he poured it out faster upon all sorts and
+      degrees of people. Not the poor only tasted of his bounty, but great lords
+      did not disdain to rank themselves among his dependents and followers. His
+      table was resorted to by all the luxurious feasters, and his house was
+      open to all comers and goers at Athens. His large wealth combined with his
+      free and prodigal nature to subdue all hearts to his love; men of all
+      minds and dispositions tendered their services to Lord Timon, from the
+      glass-faced flatterer whose face reflects as in a mirror the present humor
+      of his patron, to the rough and unbending cynic who, affecting a contempt
+      of men&rsquo;s persons and an indifference to worldly things, yet could
+      not stand out against the gracious manners and munificent soul of Lord
+      Timon, but would come (against his nature) to partake of his royal
+      entertainments and return most rich in his own estimation if he had
+      received a nod or a salutation from Timon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If a poet had composed a work which wanted a recommendatory introduction
+      to the world, he had no more to do but to dedicate it to Lord Timon, and
+      the poem was sure of sale, besides a present purse from the patron, and
+      daily access to his house and table. If a painter had a picture to dispose
+      of he had only to take it to Lord Timon and pretend to consult his taste
+      as to the merits of it; nothing more was wanting to persuade the liberal-
+      hearted lord to buy it. If a jeweler had a stone of price, or a mercer
+      rich, costly stuffs, which for their costliness lay upon his hands, Lord
+      Timon&rsquo;s house was a ready mart always open, where they might get off
+      their wares or their jewelry at any price, and the good-natured lord would
+      thank them into the bargain, as if they had done him a piece of courtesy
+      in letting him have the refusal of such precious commodities. So that by
+      this means his house was thronged with superfluous purchases, of no use
+      but to swell uneasy and ostentatious pomp; and his person was still more
+      inconveniently beset with a crowd of these idle visitors, lying poets,
+      painters, sharking tradesmen, lords, ladies, needy courtiers, and
+      expectants, who continually filled his lobbies, raining their fulsome
+      flatteries in whispers in his ears, sacrificing to him with adulation as
+      to a God, making sacred the very stirrup by which he mounted his horse,
+      and seeming as though they drank the free air but through his permission
+      and bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of these daily dependents were young men of birth who (their means
+      not answering to their extravagance) had been put in prison by creditors
+      and redeemed thence by Lord Timon; these young prodigals thenceforward
+      fastened upon his lordship, as if by common sympathy he were necessarily
+      endeared to all such spendthrifts and loose livers, who, not being able to
+      follow him in his wealth, found it easier to copy him in prodigality and
+      copious spending of what was their own. One of these flesh-flies was
+      Ventidius, for whose debts, unjustly contracted, Timon but lately had paid
+      down the sum of five talents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But among this confluence, this great flood of visitors, none were more
+      conspicuous than the makers of presents and givers of gifts. It was
+      fortunate for these men if Timon took a fancy to a dog or a horse, or any
+      piece of cheap furniture which was theirs. The thing so praised, whatever
+      it was, was sure to be sent the next morning with the compliments of the
+      giver for Lord Timon&rsquo;s acceptance, and apologies for the
+      unworthiness of the gift; and this dog or horse, or whatever it might be,
+      did not fail to produce from Timon&rsquo;s bounty, who would not be
+      outdone in gifts, perhaps twenty dogs or horses, certainly presents of far
+      richer worth, as these pretended donors knew well enough, and that their
+      false presents were but the putting out of so much money at large and
+      speedy interest. In this way Lord Lucius had lately sent to Timon a
+      present of four milk-white horses, trapped in silver, which this cunning
+      lord had observed Timon upon some occasion to commend; and another lord,
+      Lucullus, had bestowed upon him in the same pretended way of free gift a
+      brace of greyhounds whose make and fleetness Timon had been heard to
+      admire; these presents the easy-hearted lord accepted without suspicion of
+      the dishonest views of the presenters; and the givers of course were
+      rewarded with some rich return, a diamond or some jewel of twenty times
+      the value of their false and mercenary donation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes these creatures would go to work in a more direct way, and with
+      gross and palpable artifice, which yet the credulous Timon was too blind
+      to see, would affect to admire and praise something that Timon possessed,
+      a bargain that he had bought, or some late purchase, which was sure to
+      draw from this yielding and soft-hearted lord a gift of the thing
+      commended, for no service in the world done for it but the easy expense of
+      a little cheap and obvious flattery. In this way Timon but the other day
+      had given to one of these mean lords the bay courser which he himself rode
+      upon, because his lordship had been pleased to say that it was a handsome
+      beast and went well; and Timon knew that no man ever justly praised what
+      he did not wish to possess. For Lord Timon weighed his friends&rsquo;
+      affection with his own, and so fond was he of bestowing, that be could
+      have dealt kingdoms to these supposed friends and never have been weary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that Timon&rsquo;s wealth all went to enrich these wicked flatterers;
+      he could do noble and praiseworthy actions; and when a servant of his once
+      loved the daughter of a rich Athenian, but could not hope to obtain her by
+      reason that in wealth and rank the maid was so far above him, Lord Timon
+      freely bestowed upon his servant three Athenian talents, to make his
+      fortune equal with the dowry which the father of the young maid demanded
+      of him who should be her husband. But for the most part, knaves and
+      parasites had the command of his fortune, false friends whom he did not
+      know to be such, but, because they flocked around his person, he thought
+      they must needs love him; and because they smiled and flattered him, he
+      thought surely that his conduct was approved by all the wise and good. And
+      when be was feasting in the midst of all these flatterers and mock
+      friends, when they were eating him up and draining his fortunes dry with
+      large draughts of richest wines drunk to his health and prosperity, be
+      could not perceive the difference of a friend from a flatterer, but to his
+      deluded eyes (made proud with the sight) it seemed a precious comfort to
+      have so many like brothers commanding one another&rsquo;s fortunes (though
+      it was his own fortune which paid all the costs), and with joy they would
+      run over at the spectacle of such, as it appeared to him, truly festive
+      and fraternal meeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But while he thus outwent the very heart of kindness, and poured out his
+      bounty, as if Plutus, the god of gold, had been but his steward; while
+      thus he proceeded without care or stop, so senseless of expense that he
+      would neither inquire how he could maintain it nor cease his wild flow of
+      riot&mdash;his riches, which were not infinite, must needs melt away
+      before a prodigality which knew no limits. But who should tell him so? His
+      flatterers? They had an interest in shutting his eyes. In vain did his
+      honest steward Flavius try to represent to him his condition, laying his
+      accounts before him, begging of him, praying of him, with an importunity
+      that on any other occasion would have been unmannerly in a servant,
+      beseeching him with tears to look into the state of his affairs. Timon
+      would still put him off, and turn the discourse to something else; for
+      nothing is so deaf to remonstrance as riches turned to poverty, nothing is
+      so unwilling to believe its situation, nothing so incredulous to its own
+      true state, and hard to give credit to a reverse. Often had this good
+      steward, this honest creature, when all the rooms of Timon&rsquo;s great
+      house had been choked up with riotous feeders at his master&rsquo;s cost,
+      when the floors have wept with drunken spilling of wine, and every
+      apartment has blazed with lights and resounded with music and feasting,
+      often had he retired by himself to some solitary spot, and wept faster
+      than the wine ran from the wasteful casks within, to see the mad bounty of
+      his lord, and to think, when the means were gone which brought him praises
+      from all sorts of people, how quickly the breath would be gone of which
+      the praise was made; praises won in feasting would be lost in fasting, and
+      at one cloud of winter-showers these flies would disappear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But now the time was come that Timon could shut his ears no longer to the
+      representations of this faithful steward. Money must be had; and when he
+      ordered Flavius to sell some of his land for that purpose, Flavius
+      informed him, what he had in vain endeavored at several times before to
+      make him listen to, that most of his land was already sold or forfeited,
+      and that all he possessed at present was not enough to pay the one-half of
+      what he owed. Struck with wonder at this presentation, Timon hastily
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lands extend from Athens to Lacedoemon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my good lord,&rdquo; said Flavius, &ldquo;the world is but a
+      world, and has bounds. Were it all yours to give in a breath, how quickly
+      were it gone!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Timon consoled himself that no villainous bounty had yet come from him,
+      that if he had given his wealth away unwisely, it had not been bestowed to
+      feed his vices, but to cherish his friends; and he bade the kind-hearted
+      steward (who was weeping) to take comfort in the assurance that his master
+      could never lack means while he had so many noble friends; and this
+      infatuated lord persuaded himself that he had nothing to do but to send
+      and borrow, to use every man&rsquo;s fortune (that had ever tasted his
+      bounty) in this extremity, as freely as his own. Then with a cheerful
+      look, as if confident of the trial, he severally despatched messengers to
+      Lord Lucius, to Lords Lucullus and Sempronius, men upon whom he had
+      lavished his gifts in past times without measure or moderation; and to
+      Ventidius, whom he had lately released out of prison by paying his debts,
+      and who, by the death of his father, was now come into the possession of
+      an ample fortune and well enabled to requite Timon&rsquo;s courtesy; to
+      request of Ventidius the return of those five talents which he had paid
+      for him, and of each of those noble lords the loan of fifty talents;
+      nothing doubting that their gratitude would supply his wants (if he needed
+      it) to the amount of five hundred times fifty talents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucullus was the first applied to. This mean lord had been dreaming
+      overnight of a silver bason and cup, and when Timon&rsquo;s servant was
+      announced his sordid mind suggested to him that this was surely a making
+      out of his dream, and that Timon had sent him such a present. But when he
+      understood the truth of the matter, and that Timon wanted money, the
+      quality of his faint and watery friendship showed itself, for with many
+      protestations he vowed to the servant that he had long foreseen the ruin
+      of his master&rsquo;s affairs, and many a time had he come to dinner to
+      tell him of it, and had come again to supper to try to persuade him to
+      spend less, but he would take no counsel nor warning by his coming. And
+      true it was that he had been a constant attender (as he said) at Timon&rsquo;s
+      feasts, as he had in greater things tasted his bounty; but that he ever
+      came with that intent, or gave good counsel or reproof to Timon, was a
+      base, unworthy lie, which he suitably followed up with meanly offering the
+      servant a bribe to go home to his master and tell him that be had not
+      found Lucullus at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As little success had the messenger who was sent to Lord Lucius. This
+      lying lord, who was full of Timon&rsquo;s meat and enriched almost to
+      bursting with Timon&rsquo;s costly presents, when he found the wind
+      changed, and the fountain of so much bounty suddenly stopped, at first
+      could hardly believe it; but on its being confirmed he affected great
+      regret that he should not have it in his power to serve Lord Timon, for,
+      unfortunately (which was a base falsehood), he had made a great purchase
+      the day before, which had quite disfurnished him of the means at present,
+      the more beast he, he called himself, to put it out of his power to serve
+      so good a friend; and he counted it one of his greatest afflictions that
+      his ability should fail him to pleasure such an honorable gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who can call any man friend that dips in the same dish with him? Just of
+      this metal is every flatterer. In the recollection of everybody Timon had
+      been a father to this Lucius, had kept up his credit with his purse; Timon&rsquo;s
+      money had gone to pay the wages of his servants, to pay the hire of the
+      laborers who had sweat to build the fine houses which Lucius&rsquo;s pride
+      had made necessary to him. Yet&mdash;-oh, the monster which man makes
+      himself when he proves ungrateful!&mdash;this Lucius now denied to Timon a
+      sum which, in respect of what Timon had bestowed on him, was less than
+      charitable men afford to beggars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sempronius, and every one of these mercenary lords to whom Timon applied
+      in their turn, returned the same evasive answer or direct denial; even
+      Ventidius, the redeemed and now rich Ventidius, refused to assist him with
+      the loan of those five talents which Timon had not lent but generously
+      given him in his distress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was Timon as much avoided in his poverty as he had been courted and
+      resorted to in his riches. Now the same tongues which had been loudest in
+      his praises, extolling him as bountiful, liberal, and open-handed, were
+      not ashamed to censure that very bounty as folly, that liberality as
+      profuseness, though it had shown itself folly in nothing so truly as in
+      the selection of such unworthy creatures as themselves for its objects.
+      Now was Timon&rsquo;s princely mansion forsaken and become a shunned and
+      hated place, a place for men to pass by, not a place, as formerly, where
+      every passenger must stop and taste of his wine and good cheer; now,
+      instead of being thronged with feasting and tumultuous guests, it was
+      beset with impatient and clamorous creditors, usurers, extortioners,
+      fierce and intolerable in their demands, pleading bonds, interest,
+      mortgages; iron-hearted men that would take no denial nor putting off,
+      that Timon&rsquo;s house was now his jail, which he could not pass, nor go
+      in nor out for them; one demanding his due of fifty talents, another
+      bringing in a bill of five thousand crowns, which, if he would tell out
+      his blood by drops and pay them so, he had not enough in his body to
+      discharge, drop by drop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this desperate and irremediable state (as it seemed) of his affairs,
+      the eyes of all men were suddenly surprised at a new and incredible luster
+      which this setting sun put forth. Once more Lord Timon proclaimed a feast,
+      to which he invited his accustomed guests&mdash;lords, ladies, all that
+      was great or fashionable in Athens. Lord Lucius and Lucullus came,
+      Ventidius, Sempronius, and the rest. Who more sorry now than these fawning
+      wretches, when they found (as they thought) that Lord Timon&rsquo;s
+      poverty was all pretense and had been only put on to make trial of their
+      loves, to think that they should not have seen through the artifice at the
+      time and have had the cheap credit of obliging his lordship? Yet who more
+      glad to find the fountain of that noble bounty which they had thought
+      dried up, still fresh and running? They came dissembling, protesting,
+      expressing deepest sorrow and shame, that when his lordship sent to them
+      they should have been so unfortunate as to want the present means to
+      oblige so honorable a friend. But Timon begged them not to give such
+      trifles a thought, for he had altogether forgotten it. And these base,
+      fawning lords, though they had denied him money in his adversity, yet
+      could not refuse their presence at this new blaze of his returning
+      prosperity. For the swallow follows not summer more willingly than men of
+      these dispositions follow the good fortunes of the great, nor more
+      willingly leaves winter than these shrink from the first appearance of a
+      reverse. Such summer birds are men. But now with music and state the
+      banquet of smoking dishes was served up; and when the guests had a little
+      done admiring whence the bankrupt Timon could find means to furnish so
+      costly a feast, some doubting whether the scene which they saw was real,
+      as scarce trusting their own eyes, at a signal given the dishes were
+      uncovered and Timon&rsquo;s drift appeared. Instead of those varieties and
+      far-fetched dainties which they expected, that Timon&rsquo;s epicurean
+      table in past times had so liberally presented, now appeared under the
+      covers of these dishes a preparation more suitable to Timon&rsquo;s
+      poverty&mdash;nothing but a little smoke and lukewarm water, fit feast for
+      this knot of mouth-friends, whose professions were indeed smoke, and their
+      hearts lukewarm and slippery as the water with which Timon welcomed his
+      astonished guests, bidding them, &ldquo;Uncover, dogs, and lap;&rdquo;
+      and, before they could recover their surprise, sprinkling it in their
+      faces, that they might have enough, and throwing dishes and all after
+      them, who now ran huddling out, lords, ladies, with their caps snatched up
+      in haste, a splendid confusion, Timon pursuing them, still calling them
+      what they were, &ldquo;smooth smiling parasites, destroyers under the mask
+      of courtesy, affable wolves, meek bears, fools of fortune, feast-friends,
+      time-flies.&rdquo; They, crowding out to avoid him, left the house more
+      willingly than they had entered it; some losing their gowns and caps, and
+      some their jewels in the hurry, all glad to escape out of the presence of
+      such a mad lord, and from the ridicule of his mock banquet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the last feast which ever Timon made, and in it he took farewell
+      of Athens and the society of men; for, after that, he betook himself to
+      the woods, turning his back upon the hated city and upon all mankind,
+      wishing the walls of that detestable city might sink, and the houses fall
+      upon their owners, wishing all plagues which infest humanity&mdash;war,
+      outrage, poverty, diseases&mdash;might fasten upon its inhabitants,
+      praying the just gods to confound all Athenians, both young and old, high
+      and low; so wishing, he went to the woods, where he said he should find
+      the unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. He stripped himself naked,
+      that he might retain no fashion of a man, and dug a cave to live in, and
+      lived solitary in the manner of a beast, eating the wild roots and
+      drinking water, flying from the face of his kind, and choosing rather to
+      herd with wild beasts, as more harmless and friendly than man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What a change from Lord Timon the rich, Lord Timon the delight of mankind,
+      to Timon the naked, Timon the man-hater! Where were his flatterers now?
+      Where were his attendants and retinue? Would the bleak air, that
+      boisterous servitor, be his chamberlain, to put his shirt on warm? Would
+      those stiff trees that had outlived the eagle turn young and airy pages to
+      him, to skip on his errands when he bade them? Would the cool brook, when
+      it was iced with winter, administer to him his warm broths and caudles
+      when sick of an overnight&rsquo;s surfeit? Or would the creatures that
+      lived in those wild woods come and lick his hand and flatter him?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here on a day, when he was digging for roots, his poor sustenance, his
+      spade struck against something heavy, which proved to be gold, a great
+      heap which some miser had probably buried in a time of alarm, thinking to
+      have come again and taken it from its prison, but died before the
+      opportunity had arrived, without making any man privy to the concealment;
+      so it lay, doing neither good nor harm, in the bowels of the earth, its
+      mother, as if it had never come thence, till the accidental striking of
+      Timon&rsquo;s spade against it once more brought it to light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was a mass of treasure which, if Timon had retained his old mind, was
+      enough to have purchased him friends and flatterers again; but Timon was
+      sick of the false world and the sight of gold was poisonous to his eyes;
+      and he would have restored it to the earth, but that, thinking of the
+      infinite calamities which by means of gold happen to mankind, how the
+      lucre of it causes robberies, oppression, injustice, briberies, violence,
+      and murder, among men, he had a pleasure in imagining (such a rooted
+      hatred did he bear to his species) that out of this heap, which in digging
+      he had discovered, might arise some mischief to plague mankind. And some
+      soldiers passing through the woods near to his cave at that instant, which
+      proved to be a part of the troops of the Athenian captain Alcibiades, who,
+      upon some disgust taken against the senators of Athens (the Athenians were
+      ever noted to be a thankless and ungrateful people, giving disgust to
+      their generals and best friends), was marching at the head of the same
+      triumphant army which he had formerly headed in their defense, to war
+      against them. Timon, who liked their business well, bestowed upon their
+      captain the gold to pay his soldiers, requiring no other service from him
+      than that he should with his conquering army lay Athens level with the
+      ground, and burn, slay, kill all her inhabitants; not sparing the old men
+      for their white beards, for (he said) they were usurers, nor the young
+      children for their seeming innocent smiles, for those (he said) would
+      live, if they grew up, to be traitors; but to steel his eyes and ears
+      against any sights or sounds that might awaken compassion; and not to let
+      the cries of virgins, babes, or mothers hinder him from making one
+      universal massacre of the city, but to confound them all in his conquest;
+      and when he had conquered, he prayed that the gods would confound him
+      also, the conqueror. So thoroughly did Timon hate Athens, Athenians, and
+      all mankind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he lived in this forlorn state, leading a life more brutal than
+      human, he was suddenly surprised one day with the appearance of a man
+      standing in an admiring posture at the door of his cave. It was Flavius,
+      the honest steward, whom love and zealous affection to his master had led
+      to seek him out at his wretched dwelling and to offer his services; and
+      the first sight of his master, the once noble Timon, in that abject
+      condition, naked as he was born, living in the manner of a beast among
+      beasts, looking like his own sad ruins and a monument of decay, so
+      affected this good servant that he stood speechless, wrapped up in horror
+      and confounded. And when he found utterance at last to his words, they
+      were so choked with tears that Timon had much ado to know him again, or to
+      make out who it was that had come (so contrary to the experience he had
+      had of mankind) to offer him service in extremity. And being in the form
+      and shape of a man, he suspected him for a traitor, and his tears for
+      false; but the good servant by so many tokens confirmed the truth of his
+      fidelity, and made it clear that nothing but love and zealous duty to his
+      once dear master had brought him there, that Timon was forced to confess
+      that the world contained one honest man; yet, being in the shape and form
+      of a man, be could not look upon his man&rsquo;s face without abhorrence,
+      or hear words uttered from his man&rsquo;s lips without loathing; and this
+      singly honest man was forced to depart, because he was a man, and because,
+      with a heart more gentle and compassionate than is usual to man, he bore
+      man&rsquo;s detested form and outward feature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But greater visitants than a poor steward were about to interrupt the
+      savage quiet of Timon&rsquo;s solitude. For now the day was come when the
+      ungrateful lords of Athens sorely repented the injustice which they had
+      done to the noble Timon. For Alcibiades, like an incensed wild boar, was
+      raging at the walls of their city, and with his hot siege threatened to
+      lay fair Athens in the dust. And now the memory of Lord Timon&rsquo;s
+      former prowess and military conduct came fresh into their forgetful minds,
+      for Timon had been their general in past times, and a valiant and expert
+      soldier, who alone of all the Athenians was deemed able to cope with a
+      besieging army such as then threatened them, or to drive back the furious
+      approaches of Alcibiades.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A deputation of the senators was chosen in this emergency to wait upon
+      Timon. To him they come in their extremity, to whom, when he was in
+      extremity, they had shown but small regard; as if they presumed upon his
+      gratitude whom they had disobliged, and had derived a claim to his
+      courtesy from their own most discourteous and unpiteous treatment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now they earnestly beseech him, implore him with tears, to return and save
+      that city from which their ingratitude had so lately driven him; now they
+      offer him riches, power, dignities,, satisfaction for past injuries, and
+      public honors, and the public love; their persons, lives, and fortunes to
+      be at his disposal, if he will but come back and save them. But Timon the
+      naked, Timon the man-hater, was no longer Lord Timon, the lord of bounty,
+      the flower of valor, their defense in war, their ornament in peace. If
+      Alcibiades killed his countrymen, Timon cared not. If he sacked fair
+      Athens, and slew her old men and her infants, Timon would rejoice. So he
+      told them; and that there was not a knife in the unruly camp which he did
+      not prize above the reverendest throat in Athens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was all the answer he vouchsafed to the weeping, disappointed
+      senators; only at parting he bade them commend him to his countrymen, and
+      tell them that to ease them of their griefs and anxieties, and to prevent
+      the consequences of fierce Alcibiades&rsquo;s wrath, there was yet a way
+      left, which he would teach them, for he had yet so much affection left for
+      his dear countrymen as to be willing to do them a kindness before his
+      death. These words a little revived the senators, who hoped that his
+      kindness for their city was returning. Then Timon told them that he had a
+      tree, which grew near his cave, which he should shortly have occasion to
+      cut down, and he invited all his friends in Athens, high or low , of
+      whatsoever degree, who wished to shun affliction, to come and take a taste
+      of his tree before he cut it down; meaning that they might come and hang
+      themselves on it and escape affliction that way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this was the last courtesy, of all his noble bounties, which Timon
+      showed to mankind, and this the last sight of him which his countrymen
+      had, for not many days after, a poor soldier, passing by the sea-beach
+      which was at a little distance from the woods which Timon frequented,
+      found a tomb on the verge of the sea, with an inscription upon it
+      purporting that it was the grave of Timon the man-hater, who &ldquo;While
+      he lived, did hate all living men, and, dying, wished a plague might
+      consume all caitiffs left!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether he finished his life by violence, or whether mere distaste of life
+      and the loathing he had for mankind brought Timon to his conclusion, was
+      not clear, yet all men admired the fitness of his epitaph and the
+      consistency of his end, dying, as he had lived, a hater of mankind. And
+      some there were who fancied a conceit in the very choice which he had made
+      of the sea-beach for his place of burial, where the vast sea might weep
+      forever upon his grave, as in contempt of the transient and shallow tears
+      of hypocritical and deceitful mankind.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap17"></a>ROMEO AND JULIET</h2>
+    <p>
+      The two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the Montagues.
+      There had been an old quarrel between these families, which was grown to
+      such a height, and so deadly was the enmity between them, that it extended
+      to the remotest kindred, to the followers and retainers of both sides, in
+      so much that a servant of the house of Montague could not meet a servant
+      of the house of Capulet, nor a Capulet encounter with a Montague by
+      chance, but fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued; and frequent were
+      the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the happy quiet
+      of Verona&rsquo;s streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies and many
+      noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of Verona were
+      present, and all comers were made welcome if they were not of the house of
+      Montague. At this feast of Capulets, Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to
+      the old Lord Montague, was present; and though it was dangerous for a
+      Montague to be seen in this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo,
+      persuaded the young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask,
+      that he might see his Rosaline, and, seeing her, compare her with some
+      choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his swan a
+      crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio&rsquo;s words; nevertheless, for
+      the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go. For Romeo was a sincere and
+      passionate lover, and one that lost his sleep for love and fled society to
+      be alone, thinking on Rosaline, who disdained him and never requited his
+      love with the least show of courtesy or affection; and Benvolio wished to
+      cure his friend of this love by showing him diversity of ladies and
+      company. To this feast of Capulets, then, young Romeo, with Benvolio and
+      their friend Mercutio, went masked. Old Capulet bid them welcome and told
+      them that ladies who had their toes unplagued with corns would dance with
+      them. And the old man was light-hearted and merry, and said that he had
+      worn a mask when he was young and could have told a whispering tale in a
+      fair lady&rsquo;s ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly
+      struck with the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to
+      him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show by night
+      like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor; beauty too rich for use, too dear
+      for earth! like a snowy dove trooping with crows (he said), so richly did
+      her beauty and perfections shine above the ladies her companions. While he
+      uttered these praises he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord
+      Capulet, who knew him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of
+      a fiery and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should
+      come under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at their
+      solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and would have struck
+      young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord Capulet, would not suffer
+      him to do any injury at that time, both out of respect to his guests and
+      because Romeo had borne himself like a gentleman and all tongues in Verona
+      bragged of him to be a virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to
+      be patient against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile
+      Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady stood; and
+      under favor of his masking habit, which might seem to excuse in part the
+      liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to take her by the hand,
+      calling it a shrine, which if he profaned by touching it, he was a
+      blushing pilgrim and would kiss it for atonement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good pilgrim,&rdquo; answered the lady, &ldquo;your devotion shows
+      by far too mannerly and too courtly. Saints have hands which pilgrims may
+      touch but kiss not.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have not saints lips, and pilgrims, too?&rdquo; said Romeo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said the lady, &ldquo;lips which they must use in
+      prayer.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then, my dear saint,&rdquo; said Romeo, &ldquo;hear my prayer,
+      and grant it, lest I despair.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In such like allusions and loving conceits they were engaged when the lady
+      was called away to her mother. And Romeo, inquiring who her mother was,
+      discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty he was so much struck with
+      was young Juliet, daughter and heir to the Lord Capulet, the great enemy
+      of the Montagues; and that he had unknowingly engaged his heart to his
+      foe. This troubled him, but it could not dissuade him from loving. As
+      little rest had Juliet when she found that the gentle man that she had
+      been talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly smit
+      with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo which he had
+      conceived for her; and a prodigious birth of love it seemed to her, that
+      she must love her enemy and that her affections should settle there, where
+      family considerations should induce her chiefly to hate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It being midnight, Romeo with his companions departed; but they soon
+      missed him, for, unable to stay away from the house where he had left his
+      heart, he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at the back of Juliet&rsquo;s
+      house. Here he had not been long, ruminating on his new love, when Juliet
+      appeared above at a window, through which her exceeding beauty seemed to
+      break like the light of the sun in the east; and the moon, which shone in
+      the orchard with a faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with
+      grief at the superior luster of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek
+      upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that hand, that
+      he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking herself alone,
+      fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah me!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, enraptured to bear her speak, said, softly and unheard by her,
+      &ldquo;Oh, speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being over my
+      head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals fall back to gaze
+      upon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new passion which
+      that night&rsquo;s adventure had given birth to, called upon her lover by
+      name (whom she supposed absent). &ldquo;O Romeo, Romeo!&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, for
+      my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and I no longer will
+      be a Capulet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he was
+      desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her passionate discourse
+      with herself (as she thought), still chiding Romeo for being Romeo and a
+      Montague, and wishing him some other name, or that he would put away that
+      hated name, and for that name which was no part of himself he should take
+      all herself. At this loving word Romeo could no longer refrain, but,
+      taking up the dialogue as if her words had been addressed to him
+      personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call him Love, or by
+      whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer Romeo, if that name
+      was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to hear a man&rsquo;s voice in the
+      garden, did not at first know who it was that by favor of the night and
+      darkness had thus stumbled upon the discovery of her secret; but when he
+      spoke again, though her ears had not yet drunk a hundred words of that
+      tongue&rsquo;s uttering, yet so nice is a lover&rsquo;s hearing that she
+      immediately knew him to be young Romeo, and she expostulated with him on
+      the danger to which he had exposed himself by climbing the orchard walls,
+      for if any of her kinsmen should find him there it would be death to him,
+      being a Montague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alack!&rdquo; said Romeo, &ldquo;there is more peril in your eye
+      than in twenty of their swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I
+      am proof against their enmity. Better my life should be ended by their
+      hate than that hated life should be prolonged to live without your love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How came you into this place,&rdquo; said Juliet, &ldquo;and by
+      whose direction?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love directed me,&rdquo; answered Romeo. &ldquo;I am no pilot, yet
+      &lsquo;wert thou as far apart from me as that vast shore which is washed
+      with the farthest sea, I should venture for such merchandise.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A crimson blush came over Juliet&rsquo;s face, yet unseen by Romeo by
+      reason of the night, when she reflected upon the discovery which she had
+      made, yet not meaning to make it, of her love to Romeo. She would fain
+      have recalled her words, but that was impossible; fain would she have
+      stood upon form, and have kept her lover at a distance, as the custom of
+      discreet ladies is, to frown and be perverse and give their suitors harsh
+      denials at first; to stand off, and affect a coyness or indifference where
+      they most love, that their lovers may not think them too lightly or too
+      easily won; for the difficulty of attainment increases the value of the
+      object. But there was no room in her case for denials, or puttings off, or
+      any of the customary arts of delay and protracted courtship. Romeo had
+      heard from her own tongue, when she did not dream that he was near her, a
+      confession of her love. So with an honest frankness which the novelty of
+      her situation excused she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard,
+      and, addressing him by the name of FAIR MONTAGUE (love can sweeten a sour
+      name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to levity or an
+      unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it (if it were a fault)
+      upon the accident of the night which had so strangely discovered her
+      thoughts. And she added, that though her behavior to him might not be
+      sufficiently prudent, measured by the custom of her sex, yet that she
+      would prove more true than many whose prudence was dissembling, and their
+      modesty artificial cunning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness that nothing was
+      farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonor to such an
+      honored lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to swear; for although
+      she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that night&rsquo;s contract&mdash;it
+      was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But he being urgent with her to
+      exchange a vow of love with him that night, she said that she already had
+      given him hers before he requested it, meaning, when he overheard her
+      confession; but she would retract what she then bestowed, for the pleasure
+      of giving it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her
+      love as deep. From this loving conference she was called away by her
+      nurse, who slept with her and thought it time for her to be in bed, for it
+      was near to daybreak; but, hastily returning, she said three or four words
+      more to Romeo the purport of which was, that if his love was indeed
+      honorable, and his purpose marriage, she would send a messenger to him
+      to-morrow to appoint a time for their marriage, when she would lay all her
+      fortunes at his feet and follow him as her lord through the world. While
+      they were settling this point Juliet was repeatedly called for by her
+      nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned again, for she
+      seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her as a young girl of her bird,
+      which she will let hop a little from her hand and pluck it back with a
+      silken thread; and Romeo was as loath to part as she, for the sweetest
+      music to lovers is the sound of each other&rsquo;s tongues at night. But
+      at last they parted, wishing mutually sweet sleep and rest for that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day was breaking when they parted, and Romeo, who was too full of
+      thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to allow him to sleep,
+      instead of going home, bent his course to a monastery hard by, to find
+      Friar Lawrence. The good friar was already up at his devotions, but,
+      seeing young Romeo abroad so early, he conjectured rightly that he had not
+      been abed that night, but that some distemper of youthful affection had
+      kept him waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo&rsquo;s
+      wakefulness to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he
+      thought that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo
+      revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance of the
+      friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his eyes and hands in
+      a sort of wonder at the sudden change in Romeo&rsquo;s affections, for he
+      had been privy to all Romeo&rsquo;s love for Rosaline and his many
+      complaints of her disdain; and he said that young men&rsquo;s love lay not
+      truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. But Romeo replying that he
+      himself had often chidden him for doting on Rosaline, who could not love
+      him again, whereas Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the friar
+      assented in some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial
+      alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might happily be the means of
+      making up the long breach between the Capulets and the Montagues, which no
+      one more lamented than this good friar who was a friend to both the
+      families and had often interposed his mediation to make up the quarrel
+      without effect; partly moved by policy, and partly by his fondness for
+      young Romeo, to whom he could deny nothing, the old man consented to join
+      their hands in marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent from a
+      messenger which she had despatched according to promise, did not fail to
+      be early at the cell of Friar Lawrence, where their hands were joined in
+      holy marriage, the good friar praying the heavens to smile upon that act,
+      and in the union of this young Montague and young Capulet, to bury the old
+      strife and long dissensions of their families.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed, impatient
+      for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised to come and meet her
+      in the orchard, where they had met the night before; and the time between
+      seemed as tedious to her as the night before some great festival seems to
+      an impatient child that has got new finery which it may not put on till
+      the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same day, about noon, Romeo&rsquo;s friends, Benvolio and Mercutio,
+      walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a party of the Capulets
+      with the impetuous Tybalt at their head. This was the same angry Tybalt
+      who would have fought with Romeo at old Lord Capulet&rsquo;s feast. He,
+      seeing Mercutio, accused him bluntly of associating with Romeo, a
+      Montague. Mercutio, who had as much fire and youthful blood in him as
+      Tybalt, replied to this accusation with some sharpness; and in spite of
+      all Benvolio could say to moderate their wrath a quarrel was beginning
+      when, Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from
+      Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of villain.
+      Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all men, because he was
+      the kinsman of Juliet and much beloved by her; besides, this young
+      Montague had never thoroughly entered into the family quarrel, being by
+      nature wise and gentle, and the name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady&rsquo;s
+      name, was now rather a charm to allay resentment than a watchword to
+      excite fury. So he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by
+      the name of GOOD CAPULET, as if he, though a Montague, had some secret
+      pleasure in uttering that name; but Tybalt, who hated all Montagues as he
+      hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his weapon; and Mercutio, who
+      knew not of Romeo&rsquo;s secret motive for desiring peace with Tybalt,
+      but looked upon his present forbearance as a sort of calm dishonorable
+      submission, with many disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution
+      of his first quarrel with him; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till
+      Mercutio fell, receiving his death&rsquo;s wound while Romeo and Benvolio
+      were vainly endeavoring to part the combatants. Mercutio being dead, Romeo
+      kept his temper no longer, but returned the scornful appellation of
+      villain which Tybalt had given him, and they fought till Tybalt was slain
+      by Romeo. This deadly broil falling out in the midst of Verona at noonday,
+      the news of it quickly brought a crowd of citizens to the spot and among
+      them the Lords Capulet and Montague, with their wives; and soon after
+      arrived the prince himself, who, being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt
+      had slain, and having had the peace of his government often disturbed by
+      these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came determined to put the law in
+      strictest force against those who should be found to be offenders.
+      Benvolio, who had been eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the
+      prince to relate the origin of it; which he did, keeping as near the truth
+      as he could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part which
+      his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief for the loss of
+      her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her revenge, exhorted the
+      prince to do strict justice upon his murderer, and to,pay no attention to
+      Benvolio&rsquo;s representation, who, being Romeo&rsquo;s friend and a
+      Montague, spoke partially. Thus she pleaded against her new son-in-law,
+      but she knew not yet that he was her son-in-law and Juliet&rsquo;s
+      husband. On the other hand was to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her
+      child&rsquo;s life, and arguing with some justice that Romeo had done
+      nothing worthy of punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was
+      already forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The prince,
+      unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a careful
+      examination of the facts pronounced his sentence, and by that sentence
+      Romeo was banished from Verona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride and now
+      by this decree seemed everlastingly divorced! When the tidings reached
+      her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo, who had slain her dear
+      cousin. She called him a beautiful tyrant, a fiend angelical, a ravenous
+      dove, a lamb with a wolf&rsquo;s nature, a serpent-heart hid with a
+      flowering face, and other, like contradictory names, which denoted the
+      struggles in her mind between her love and her resentment. But in the end
+      love got the mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo
+      had slain her cousin turned to drops of joy that her husband lived whom
+      Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they were altogether
+      of grief for Romeo&rsquo;s banishment. That word was more terrible to her
+      than the death of many Tybalts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, after the fray, had taken refuge in Friar Lawrence&rsquo;s cell,
+      where he was first made acquainted with the prince&rsquo;s sentence, which
+      seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it appeared there was
+      no world out of Verona&rsquo;s walls, no living out of the sight of
+      Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and all beyond was purgatory,
+      torture, hell. The good friar would have applied the consolation of
+      philosophy to his griefs; but this frantic young man would hear of none,
+      but like a madman he tore his hair and threw himself all along upon the
+      ground, as he said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly
+      state he was roused by a message from his dear lady which a little revived
+      him; and then the friar took the advantage to expostulate with him on the
+      unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain Tybalt, but would he
+      also slay himself, slay his dear lady, who lived but in his life? The
+      noble form of man, he said, was but a shape of wax when it wanted the
+      courage which should keep it firm. The law had been lenient to him that
+      instead of death, which he had incurred, had pronounced by the prince&rsquo;s
+      mouth only banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain
+      him-there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive and (beyond
+      all hope) had become his dear wife; therein he was most happy. All these
+      blessings, as the friar made them out to be, did Romeo put from him like a
+      sullen misbehaved wench. And the friar bade him beware, for such as
+      despaired (he said) died miserable. Then when Romeo was a little calmed he
+      counseled him that he should go that night and secretly take his leave of
+      Juliet, and thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should
+      sojourn till the friar found fit occasion to publish his marriage, which
+      might be a joyful means of reconciling their families; and then he did not
+      doubt but the prince would be moved to pardon him, and he would return
+      with twenty times more joy than he went forth with grief. Romeo was
+      convinced by these wise counsels of the friar, and took his leave to go
+      and seek his lady, proposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak
+      pursue his journey alone to Mantua; to which place the good friar promised
+      to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him with the state of
+      affairs at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret admission to
+      her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard her confession of love
+      the night before. That had been a night of unmixed joy and rapture; but
+      the pleasures of this night and the delight which these lovers took in
+      each other&rsquo;s society were sadly allayed with the prospect of parting
+      and the fatal adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to
+      come too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark she
+      would have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which sings by
+      night; but it was too truly the lark which sang, and a discordant and
+      unpleasing note it seemed to her; and the streaks of day in the east too
+      certainly pointed out that it was time for these lovers to part. Romeo
+      took his leave of his dear wife with a heavy heart, promising to write to
+      her from Mantua every hour in the day; and when he had descended from her
+      chamber window, as he stood below her on the ground, in that sad
+      foreboding state of mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one
+      dead in the bottom of a tomb. Romeo&rsquo;s mind misgave him in like
+      manner. But now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him
+      to be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was but the beginning of the tragedy of this pair of star- crossed
+      lovers. Romeo had not been gone many days before the old Lord Capulet
+      proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had chosen for her, not
+      dreaming that she was married already, was Count Paris, a gallant, young,
+      and noble gentleman, no unworthy suitor to the young Juliet if she had
+      never seen Romeo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father&rsquo;s offer.
+      She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent death of Tybalt,
+      which had left her spirits too weak to meet a husband with any face of
+      joy, and how indecorous it would show for the family of the Capulets to be
+      celebrating a nuptial feast when his funeral solemnities were hardly over.
+      She pleaded every reason against the match but the true one, namely, that
+      she was married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses, and
+      in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the following
+      Thursday she should be married to Paris. And having found her a husband,
+      rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest maid in Verona might joyfully
+      accept, he could not bear that out of an affected coyness, as he construed
+      her denial, she should oppose obstacles to her own good fortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this extremity Juliet applied to the friendly friar, always a counselor
+      in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to undertake a
+      desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go into the grave alive
+      rather than marry Paris, her own dear husband living, he directed her to
+      go home, and appear merry, and give her consent to marry Paris, according
+      to her father&rsquo;s desire, and on the next night, which was the night
+      before the marriage, to drink off the contents of a vial which he then
+      gave her, the effect of which would be that for two-and-forty hours after
+      drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless, and when the bridegroom
+      came to fetch her in the morning he would find her to appearance dead;
+      that then she would be borne, as the manner in that country was, uncovered
+      on a bier, to be buried in the family vault; that if she could put off
+      womanish fear, and consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours
+      after swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would be
+      sure to awake, as from a dream; and before she should awake he would let
+      her husband know their drift, and he should come in the night and bear her
+      thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of marrying Paris, gave young Juliet
+      strength to undertake this horrible adventure; and she took the vial of
+      the friar, promising to observe his directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Going from the monastery, she met the young Count Paris, and, modestly
+      dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was joyful news to the
+      Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put youth into the old man; and
+      Juliet, who had displeased him exceedingly by her refusal of the count,
+      was his darling again, now she promised to be obedient. All things in the
+      house were in a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was
+      spared to prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before
+      witnessed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many
+      misgivings lest the friar, to avoid the blame which might be imputed to
+      him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison; but then he was
+      always known for a holy man. Then lest she should awake before the time
+      that Romeo was to come for her; whether the terror of the place, a vault
+      full of dead Capulets&rsquo; bones, and where Tybalt, all bloody, lay
+      festering in his shroud, would not be enough to drive her distracted.
+      Again she thought of all the stories she had heard of spirits haunting the
+      places where their bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo and
+      her aversion for Paris returned, and she desperately swallowed the draught
+      and became insensible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken his bride,
+      instead of a living Juliet her chamber presented the dreary spectacle of a
+      lifeless corse. What death to his hopes! What confusion then reigned
+      through the whole house! Poor Paris lamenting his bride, whom most
+      detestable death had beguiled him of, had divorced from him even before
+      their hands were joined. But still more piteous it was to hear the
+      mournings of the old Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one
+      poor loving child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death had snatched her
+      from their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of
+      seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and advantageous
+      match. Now all things that were ordained for the festival were turned from
+      their properties to do the office of a black funeral. The wedding cheer
+      served for a sad burial feast, the bridal hymns were changed for sullen
+      dirges, the sprightly instruments to melancholy.bells, and the flowers
+      that should have been strewed in the bride&rsquo;s path now served but to
+      strew her corse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was
+      needed to bury her, and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment the
+      cheerful hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers of the dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the dismal
+      story of his Juliet&rsquo;s death to Romeo, at Mantua, before the
+      messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Lawrence to apprise him
+      that these were mock funerals only, and but the shadow and representation
+      of death, and that his dear lady lay in the tomb but for a short while,
+      expecting when Romeo would come to release her from that dreary mansion.
+      Just before, Romeo had been unusually joyful and light-hearted. He had
+      dreamed in the night that he was dead (a strange dream, that gave a dead
+      man leave to think) and that his lady came and found him dead, and
+      breathed such life with kisses in his lips that he revived and was an
+      emperor! And now that a messenger came from Verona, he thought surely it
+      was to confirm some good news which his dreams had presaged. But when the
+      contrary to this flattering vision appeared, and that it was his lady who
+      was dead in truth, whom he could not revive by any kisses, he ordered
+      horses to be got ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona and
+      to see his lady in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the
+      thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary, whose shop
+      in Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly appearance of the
+      man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show in his show of empty boxes
+      ranged on dirty shelves, and other tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had
+      said at the time (perhaps having some misgivings that his own disastrous
+      life might haply meet with a conclusion so desperate):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is
+      death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These words of his now came into his mind and he sought out the
+      apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him gold,
+      which his poverty could not resist, sold him a poison which, if he
+      swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of twenty men, would
+      quickly despatch him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his dear lady
+      in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight, to swallow the
+      poison and be buried by her side. He reached Verona at midnight, and found
+      the churchyard in the midst of which was situated the ancient tomb of the
+      Capulets. He had provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching-iron, and
+      was proceeding to break open the monument when he was interrupted by a
+      voice, which by the name of VILE MONTAGUE bade him desist from his
+      unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come to the tomb
+      of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night to strew flowers and to weep
+      over the grave of her that should have been his bride. He knew not what an
+      interest Romeo had in the dead, but, knowing him to be a Montague and (as
+      he supposed) a sworn foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come
+      by night to do some villainous shame to the dead bodies; therefore in an
+      angry tone he bade him desist; and as a criminal, condemned by the laws of
+      Verona to die if he were found within the walls of the city, he would have
+      apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to leave him, and warned him by the
+      fate of Tybalt, who lay buried there, not to provoke his anger or draw
+      down another sin upon his head by forcing him to kill him. But the count
+      in scorn refused his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which,
+      Romeo resisting, they fought, and Paris fell. When Romeo, by the help of a
+      light, came to see who it was that he had slain, that it was Paris, who
+      (he learned in his way from Mantua) should have married Juliet, he took
+      the dead youth by the hand, as one whom misfortune had made a companion,
+      and said that he would bury him in a triumphal grave, meaning in Juliet&rsquo;s
+      grave, which he now opened. And there lay his lady, as one whom death had
+      no power upon to change a feature or complexion, in her matchless beauty;
+      or as if death were amorous, and the lean, abhorred monster kept her there
+      for his delight; for she lay yet fresh and blooming, as she had fallen to
+      sleep when she swallowed that benumbing potion; and near her lay Tybalt in
+      his bloody shroud, whom Romeo seeing, begged pardon of his lifeless corse,
+      and for Juliet&rsquo;s sake called him COUSIN, and said that he was about
+      to do him a favor by putting his enemy to death. Here Romeo took his last
+      leave of his lady&rsquo;s lips, kissing them; and here he shook the burden
+      of his cross stars from his weary body, swallowing that poison which the
+      apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, not like that
+      dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the effect of which was now
+      nearly expiring, and she about to awake to complain that Romeo had not
+      kept his time, or that he had come too soon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For now the hour was arrived at which the friar had promised that she
+      should awake; and he, having learned that his letters which he had sent to
+      Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the messenger, had never reached
+      Romeo, came himself, provided with a pickax and lantern, to deliver the
+      lady from her confinement; but he was surprised to find a light already
+      burning in the Capulets&rsquo; monument, and to see swords and blood near
+      it, and Romeo and Paris lying breathless by the monument,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he could entertain a conjecture, to imagine how these fatal
+      accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance, and, seeing the
+      friar near her, she remembered the place where she was, and the occasion
+      of her being there, and asked for Romeo, but the friar, hearing a noise,
+      bade her come out of that place of death and of unnatural sleep, for a
+      greater power than they could contradict had thwarted their intents; and,
+      being frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled. But when Juliet
+      saw the cup closed in her true love&rsquo;s hands, she guessed that poison
+      had been the cause of his end, and she would have swallowed the dregs if
+      any had been left, and she kissed his still warm lips to try if any poison
+      yet did hang upon them; then hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she
+      quickly unsheathed a dagger which she wore, and, stabbing herself, died by
+      her true Romeo&rsquo;s side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The watch by this time had come up to the place. A page belonging to Count
+      Paris, who had witnessed the fight between his master and Romeo, had given
+      the alarm, which had spread among the citizens, who went up and down the
+      streets of Verona confusedly exclaiming, &ldquo;A Paris! a Romeo! a
+      Juliet!&rdquo; as the rumor had imperfectly reached them, till the uproar
+      brought Lord Montague and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the prince,
+      to inquire into the causes of the disturbance. The friar had been
+      apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard, trembling,
+      sighing, and weeping in a suspicious manner. A great multitude being
+      assembled at the Capulets&rsquo; monument, the friar was demanded by the
+      prince to deliver what he knew of these strange and disastrous accidents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there, in the presence of the old Lords Montague and Capulet, he
+      faithfully related the story of their children&rsquo;s fatal love, the
+      part he took in promoting their marriage, in the hope in that union to end
+      the long quarrels between their families; how Romeo, there dead, was
+      husband to Juliet, and Juliet, there dead, was Romeo&rsquo;s faithful
+      wife; how, before he could find a fit opportunity to divulge their
+      marriage, another match was projected for Juliet, who, to avoid the crime
+      of a second marriage, swallowed the sleeping-draught (as he advised), and
+      all thought her dead; how meantime he wrote to Romeo to come and take her
+      thence when the force of the potion should cease, and by what unfortunate
+      miscarriage of the messenger the letters never reached Romeo. Further than
+      this the friar could not follow the story, nor knew more than that, coming
+      himself to deliver Juliet from that place of death, he found the Count
+      Paris and Romeo slain. The remainder of the transactions was supplied by
+      the narration of the page who had seen Paris and Romeo fight, and by the
+      servant who came with Romeo from Verona, to whom this faithful lover had
+      given letters to be delivered to his father in the event of his death,
+      which made good the friar&rsquo;s words, confessing his marriage with
+      Juliet, imploring the forgiveness of his parents, acknowledging the buying
+      of the poison of the poor apothecary and his intent in coming to the
+      monument to die and lie with Juliet. All these circumstances agreed
+      together to clear the friar from any hand he could be supposed to have in
+      these complicated slaughters, further than as the unintended consequences
+      of his own well-meant, yet too artificial and subtle contrivances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the prince, turning to these old lords, Montague and Capulet, rebuked
+      them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed them what a
+      scourge Heaven had laid upon such offenses, that it had found means even
+      through the love of their children to punish their unnatural hate. And
+      these old rivals, no longer enemies, agreed to bury their long strife in
+      their children&rsquo;s graves; and Lord Capulet requested Lord Montague to
+      give him his hand, calling him by the name of brother, as if in
+      acknowledgment of the union of their families by the marriage of the young
+      Capulet and Montague; and saying that Lord Montague&rsquo;s hand (in token
+      of reconcilement) was all he demanded for his daughter&rsquo;s jointure.
+      But Lord Montague said he would give him more, for he would raise her a
+      statue of pure gold that, while Verona kept its name, no figure should be
+      so esteemed for its richness and workmanship as that of the true and
+      faithful Juliet. And Lord Capulet in return said that he would raise
+      another statue to Romeo. So did these poor old lords, when it was too
+      late, strive to outgo each other in mutual courtesies; while so deadly had
+      been their rage and enmity in past times that nothing but the fearful
+      overthrow of their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and
+      dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the noble
+      families.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap18"></a>HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK</h2>
+    <p>
+      Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, becoming a widow by the sudden death of King
+      Hamlet, in less than two months after his death married his brother
+      Claudius, which was noted by all people at the tim for a strange act of
+      indiscretion, or unfeelingness, or worse; for this Claudius did no way
+      resemble her late husband in the qualities of his person or his mind, but
+      was as contemptible in outward appearance as he was base and unworthy in
+      disposition; and suspicions did not fail to arise in the minds of some
+      that he had privately made away with his brother, the late king, with the
+      view of marrying his widow and ascending the throne of Denmark, to the
+      exclusion of young Hamlet, the son of the buried king and lawful successor
+      to the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But upon no one did this unadvised action of the queen make such
+      impression as upon this young prince, who loved and venerated the memory
+      of his dead father almost to idolatry, and, being of a nice sense of honor
+      and a most exquisite practiser of propriety himself, did sorely take to
+      heart this unworthy conduct of his mother Gertrude; in so much that,
+      between grief for his father&rsquo;s death and shame for his mother&rsquo;s
+      marriage, this young prince was overclouded with a deep melancholy, and
+      lost all his mirth and all his good looks; all his customary pleasure in
+      books forsook him, his princely exercises and sports, proper to his youth,
+      were no longer acceptable; he grew weary of the world, which seemed to him
+      an unweeded garden, where all the wholesome flowers were choked up and
+      nothing but weeds could thrive. Not that the prospect of exclusion from
+      the throne, his lawful inheritance, weighed so much upon his spirits,
+      though that to a young and high-minded prince was a bitter wound and a
+      sore indignity; but what so galled him and took away all his cheerful
+      spirits was that his mother had shown herself so forgetful to his father&rsquo;s
+      memory, and such a father! who had been to her so loving and so gentle a
+      husband! and then she always appeared as loving and obedient a wife to
+      him, and would hang upon him as if her affection grew to him. And now
+      within two months, or, as it seemed to young Hamlet, less than two months,
+      she had married again, married his uncle, her dear husband&rsquo;s
+      brother, in itself a highly improper and unlawful marriage, from the
+      nearness of relationship, but made much more so by the indecent haste with
+      which it was concluded and the unkingly character of the man whom she had
+      chosen to be the partner of her throne and bed. This it was which more
+      than the loss of ten kingdoms dashed the spirits and brought a cloud over
+      the mind of this honorable young prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In vain was all that his mother Gertrude or the king could do to contrive
+      to divert him; he still appeared in court in a suit of deep black, as
+      mourning for the king his father&rsquo;s death, which mode of dress he had
+      never laid aside, not even in compliment to his mother upon the day she
+      was married, nor could he be brought to join in any of the festivities or
+      rejoicings of that (as appeared to him) disgraceful day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What mostly troubled him was an uncertainty about the manner of his father&rsquo;s
+      death. It was given out by Claudius that a serpent had stung him; but
+      young Hamlet had shrewd suspicions that Claudius himself was the serpent;
+      in plain English, that he had murdered him for his crown, and that the
+      serpent who stung his father did now sit on the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How far he was right in this conjecture and what he ought to think of his
+      mother, how far she was privy to this murder and whether by her consent or
+      knowledge, or without, it came to pass, were the doubts which continually
+      harassed and distracted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A rumor had reached the ear of young Hamlet that an apparition, exactly
+      resembling the dead king his father, had been seen by the soldiers upon
+      watch, on the platform before the palace at midnight, for two or three
+      nights successively. The figure came constantly clad in the same suit of
+      armor, from head to foot, which the dead king was known to have worn. And
+      they who saw it (Hamlet&rsquo;s bosom friend Horatio was one) agreed in
+      their testimony as to the time and manner of its appearance that it came
+      just as the clock struck twelve; that it looked pale, with a face more of
+      sorrow than of anger; that its beard was grisly, and the color a SABLE
+      SILVERED, as they had seen it in his lifetime; that it made no answer when
+      they spoke to it; yet once they thought it lifted up its head and
+      addressed itself to motion, as if it were about to speak; but in that
+      moment the morning cock crew and it shrank in haste away, and vanished out
+      of their sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young prince, strangely amazed at their relation, which was too
+      consistent and agreeing with itself to disbelieve, concluded that it was
+      his father&rsquo;s ghost which they had seen, and determined to take his
+      watch with the soldiers that night, that he might have a chance of seeing
+      it; for he reasoned with himself that such an appearance did not come for
+      nothing, but that the ghost had something to impart, and though it had
+      been silent hitherto, yet it would speak to him. And he waited with
+      impatience for the coming of night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When night came he took his stand with Horatio, and Marcellus, one of the
+      guard, upon the platform, where this apparition was accustomed to walk;
+      and it being a cold night, and the air unusually raw and nipping, Hamlet
+      and Horatio and their companion fell into some talk about the coldness of
+      the night, which was suddenly broken off by Horatio announcing that the
+      ghost was coming.
+    </p>
+
+<p>
+At the sight of his father&rsquo;s spirit Hamlet was struck with a sudden
+surprise and fear.&rsquo; He at first called upon the angels and heavenly
+ministers to defend them, for he knew not whether it were a good spirit or bad,
+whether it came for good or evil; but he gradually assumed more courage; and
+his father (as it seemed to him) looked upon him so piteously, and as it were
+desiring to have conversation with him, and did in all respects appear so like
+himself as he was when he lived, that Hamlet could not help addressing him. He
+called him by his name, &ldquo;Hamlet, King, Father!&rdquo; and conjured him
+that he would tell the reason why he had left his grave, where they had seen
+him quietly bestowed, to come again and visit the earth and the moonlight; and
+besought him that he would let them know if there was anything which they could
+do to give peace to his spirit. And the ghost beckoned to Hamlet, that he
+should go with him to some more removed place where they might be alone; and
+Horatio and Marcellus would have dissuaded the young prince from following it,
+for they feared lest it should be some evil spirit who would tempt him to the
+neighboring sea or to the top of some dreadful cliff, and there put on some
+horrible shape which might deprive the prince of his reason. But their counsels
+and entreaties could not alter Hamlet&rsquo;s determination, who cared too
+little about life to fear the losing of it; and as to his soul, he said, what
+could the spirit do to that, being a thing immortal as itself? And he felt as
+hardy as a lion, and, bursting from them, who did all they could to hold him,
+he followed whithersoever the spirit led him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when they were alone together, the spirit broke silence and told him that
+he was the ghost of Hamlet, his father, who had been cruelly murdered, and he
+told the manner of it; that it was done by his own brother Claudius,
+Hamlet&rsquo;s uncle, as Hamlet had already but too much suspected, for the
+hope of succeeding to his bed and crown. That as he was sleeping in his garden,
+his custom always in the afternoon, his treasonous brother stole upon him in
+his sleep and poured the juice of poisonous henbane into his ears, which has
+such an antipathy to the life of man that, swift as quicksilver, it courses
+through all the veins of the body, baking up the blood and spreading a
+crust-like leprosy all over the skin. Thus sleeping, by a brother&rsquo;s hand
+he was cut off at once from his crown, his queen, and his life; and he adjured
+Hamlet, if he did ever his dear father love, that he would revenge his foul
+murder. And the ghost lamented to his son that his mother should so fall off
+from virtue as to prove false to the wedded love of her first husband and to
+marry his murderer; but he cautioned Hamlet, howsoever he proceeded in his
+revenge against his wicked uncle, by no means to act any violence against the
+person of his mother, but to leave her to Heaven, and to the stings and thorns
+of conscience. And Hamlet promised to observe the ghost&rsquo;s direction in
+all things, and the ghost vanished.
+</p>
+
+    <p>
+      And when Hamlet was left alone he took up a solemn resolution that all he
+      had in his memory, all that he had ever learned by books or observation,
+      should be instantly forgotten by him, and nothing live in his brain but
+      the memory of what the ghost had told him and enjoined him to do. And
+      Hamlet related the particulars of the conversation which had passed to
+      none but his dear friend Horatio; and he enjoined both to him and
+      Marcellus the strictest secrecy as to what they had seen that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The terror which the sight of the ghost had left upon the senses of
+      Hamlet, he being weak and dispirited before, almost unhinged his mind and
+      drove him beside his reason. And he, fearing that it would continue to
+      have this effect, which might subject him to observation and set his uncle
+      upon his guard, if he suspected that he was meditating anything against
+      him, or that Hamlet really knew more of his father&rsquo;s death than he
+      professed, took up a strange resolution, from that time to counterfeit as
+      if he were really and truly mad; thinking that he would be less an object
+      of suspicion when his uncle should believe him incapable of any serious
+      project, and that his real perturbation of mind would be best covered and
+      pass concealed under a disguise of pretended lunacy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From this time Hamlet affected a certain wildness and strangeness in his
+      apparel, his speech, and behavior, and did so excellently counterfeit the
+      madman that the king and queen were both deceived, and not thinking his
+      grief for his father&rsquo;s death a sufficient cause to produce such a
+      distemper, for they knew not of the appearance of the ghost, they
+      concluded that his malady was love and they thought they had found out the
+      object.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Hamlet fell into the melancholy way which has been related he had
+      dearly loved a fair maid called Ophelia, the daughter of Polonius, the
+      king&rsquo;s chief counselor in affairs of state. He had sent her letters
+      and rings, and made many tenders of his affection to her, and importuned
+      her with love in honorable fashion; and she had given belief to his vows
+      and importunities. But the melancholy which he fell into latterly had made
+      him neglect her, and from the time he conceived the project of
+      counterfeiting madness he affected to treat her with unkindness and a sort
+      of rudeness; but she, good lady, rather than reproach him with being false
+      to her, persuaded herself that it was nothing but the disease in his mind,
+      and no settled unkindness, which had made him less observant of her than
+      formerly; and she compared the faculties of his once noble mind and
+      excellent understanding, impaired as they were with the deep melancholy
+      that oppressed him, to sweet bells which in themselves are capable of most
+      exquisite music, but when jangled out of tune, or rudely handled, produce
+      only a harsh and unpleasing sound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though the rough business which Hamlet had in hand, the revenging of his
+      father&rsquo;s death upon his murderer, did not suit with the playful
+      state of courtship, or admit of the society of so idle a passion as love
+      now seemed to him, yet it could not hinder but that soft thoughts of his
+      Ophelia would come between, and in one of these moments, when he thought
+      that his treatment of this gentle lady had been unreasonably harsh, he
+      wrote her a letter full of wild starts of passion, and in extravagant
+      terms, such as agreed with his supposed madness, but mixed with some
+      gentle touches of affection, which could not but show to this honored lady
+      that a deep love for her yet lay at the bottom of his heart. He bade her
+      to doubt the stars were fire, and to doubt that the sun did move, to doubt
+      truth to be a liar, but never to doubt that he loved; with more of such
+      extravagant phrases. This letter Ophelia dutifully showed to her father,
+      and the old man thought himself bound to communicate it to the king and
+      queen, who from that time supposed that the true cause of Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      madness was love. And the queen wished that the good beauties of Ophelia
+      might be the happy cause of his wildness, for so she hoped that her
+      virtues might happily restore him to his accustomed way again, to both
+      their honors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Hamlet&rsquo;s malady lay deeper than she supposed, or than could be
+      so cured. His father&rsquo;s ghost, which he had seen, still haunted his
+      imagination, and the sacred injunction to revenge his murder gave him no
+      rest till it was accomplished. Every hour of delay seemed to him a sin and
+      a violation of his father&rsquo;s commands. Yet how to compass the death
+      of the king, surrounded as he constantly was with his guards, was no easy
+      matter. Or if it had been, the presence of the queen, Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      mother, who was generally with the king, was a restraint upon his purpose,
+      which he could not break through. Besides, the very circumstance that the
+      usurper was his mother&rsquo;s husband, filled him with some remorse and
+      still blunted the edge of his purpose. The mere act of putting a
+      fellow-creature to death was in itself odious and terrible to a
+      disposition naturally so gentle as Hamlet&rsquo;s was. His very
+      melancholy, and the dejection of spirits he had so long been ill, produced
+      an irresoluteness and wavering of purpose which kept him from proceeding
+      to extremities. Moreover, he could not help having some scruples upon his
+      mind, whether the spirit which he had seen was indeed his father, or
+      whether it might not be the devil, who he had heard has power to take any
+      form he pleases, and who might have assumed his father&rsquo;s shape only
+      to take advantage of his weakness and his melancholy, to drive him to the
+      doing of so desperate an act as murder. And he determined that he would
+      have more certain grounds to go upon than a vision, or apparition, which
+      might be a delusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was in this irresolute mind there came to the court certain
+      players, in whom Hamlet formerly used to take delight, and particularly to
+      hear one of them speak a tragical speech, describing the death of old
+      Priam, King of Troy, with the grief of Hecuba his queen. Hamlet welcomed
+      his old friends, the players, and remembering how that speech had formerly
+      given him pleasure, requested the player to repeat it; which he did in so
+      lively a manner, setting forth the cruel murder of the feeble old king,
+      with the destruction of his people and city by fire, and the mad grief of
+      the old queen, running barefoot up and down the palace, with a poor clout
+      upon that head where a crown had been, and with nothing but a blanket upon
+      her loins, snatched up in haste, where she had worn a royal robe; that not
+      only it drew tears from all that stood by, who thought they saw the real
+      scene, so lively was it represented, but even the player himself delivered
+      it with a broken voice and real tears. This put Hamlet upon thinking, if
+      that player could so work himself up to passion by a mere fictitious
+      speech, to weep for one that he had never seen, for Hecuba, that had been
+      dead so many hundred years, how dull was he, who having a real motive and
+      cue for passion, a real king and a dear father murdered, was yet so little
+      moved that his revenge all this while had seemed to have slept in dull and
+      muddy forgetfulness! and while he meditated on actors and acting, and the
+      powerful effects which a good play, represented to the life, has upon the
+      spectator, he remembered the instance of some murderer, who, seeing a
+      murder on the stage, was by the mere force of the scene and resemblance of
+      circumstances so affected that on the spot he confessed the crime which he
+      had committed. And he determined that these players should play something
+      like the murder of his father before his uncle, and he would watch
+      narrowly what effect it might have upon him, and from his looks he would
+      be able to gather with more certainty if he were the murderer or not. To
+      this effect he ordered a play to be prepared, to the representation of
+      which he invited the king and queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The story of the play was of a murder done in Vienna upon a duke. The duke&rsquo;s
+      name was Gonzago, his wife&rsquo;s Baptista. The play showed how one
+      Lucianus, a near relation to the duke, poisoned him in his garden for his
+      estate, and how the murderer in a short time after got the love of Gonzago&rsquo;s
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the representation of this play, the king, who did not know the trap
+      which was laid for him, was present, with his queen and the whole court;
+      Hamlet sitting attentively near him to observe his looks. The play began
+      with a conversation between Gonzago and his wife, in which the lady made
+      many protestations of love, and of never marrying a second husband if she
+      should outlive Gonzago, wishing she might be accursed if she ever took a
+      second husband, and adding that no woman did so but those wicked women who
+      kill their first husbands. Hamlet observed the king his uncle change color
+      at this expression, and that it was as bad as wormwood both to him and to
+      the queen. But when Lucianus, according to the story, came to poison
+      Gonzago sleeping in the garden, the strong resemblance which it bore to
+      his own wicked act upon the late king, his brother, whom he had poisoned
+      in his garden, so struck upon the conscience of this usurper that he was
+      unable to sit out the rest of the play, but on a sudden calling for lights
+      to his chamber, and affecting or partly feeling a sudden sickness, he
+      abruptly left the theater. The king being departed, the play was given
+      over. Now Hamlet had seen enough to be satisfied that the words of the
+      ghost were true and no illusion; and in a fit of gaiety, like that which
+      comes over a man who suddenly has some great doubt or scruple resolved, he
+      swore to Horatio that he would take the ghost&rsquo;s word for a thousand
+      pounds. But before he could make up his resolution as to what measures of
+      revenge he should take, now he was certainly informed that his uncle was
+      his father&rsquo;s murderer, he was sent for by the queen his mother, to a
+      private conference in her closet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was by desire of the king that the queen sent for Hamlet, that she
+      might signify to her son how much his late behavior had displeased them
+      both, and the king, wishing to know all that passed at that conference,
+      and thinking that the too partial report of a mother might let slip some
+      part of Hamlet&rsquo;s words, which it might much import the king to know,
+      Polonius, the old counselor of state, was ordered to plant himself behind
+      the hangings in the queen&rsquo;s closet, where he might, unseen, hear all
+      that passed. This artifice was particularly adapted to the disposition of
+      Polonius, who was a man grown old in crooked maxims and policies of state,
+      and delighted to get at the knowledge of matters in an indirect and
+      cunning way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hamlet being come to his mother, she began to tax him in the roundest way
+      with his actions and behavior, and she told him that he had given great
+      offense to HIS FATHER, meaning the king, his uncle, whom, because he had
+      married her, she called Hamlet&rsquo;s father. Hamlet, sorely indignant
+      that she should give so dear and honored a name as father seemed to him to
+      a wretch who was indeed no better than the murderer of his true father,
+      with some sharpness replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, YOU have much offended MY FATHER.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen said that was but an idle answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As good as the question deserved,&rdquo; said Hamlet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen asked him if he had forgotten who it was he was speaking to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; replied Hamlet, &ldquo;I wish I could forget. You are
+      the queen, your husband&rsquo;s brother&rsquo;s wife; and you are my
+      mother. I wish you were not what you are.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, then,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;if you show me so little
+      respect, I will set those to you that can speak,&rdquo; and was going to
+      send the king or Polonius to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Hamlet would not let her go, now he had her alone, till he had tried
+      if his words could not bring her to some sense of her wicked life; and,
+      taking her by the wrist, he held her fast, and made her sit down. She,
+      affrighted at his earnest manner, and fearful lest in his lunacy he should
+      do her a mischief, cried out; and a voice was heard from behind the
+      hangings, &ldquo;Help, help&rsquo; the queen!&rdquo; which Hamlet hearing,
+      and verily thinking that it was the king himself there concealed, he drew
+      his sword and stabbed at the place where the voice came from, as he would
+      have stabbed a rat that ran there, till, the voice ceasing, he concluded
+      the person to be dead. But when he dragged forth the body it was not the
+      king, but Polonius, the old, officious counselor, that had planted himself
+      as a spy behind the hangings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, me!&rdquo; exclaimed the queen, &ldquo;what a rash and bloody
+      deed have you done!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A bloody deed, mother,&rdquo; replied Hamlet, &ldquo;but not so bad
+      as yours, who killed a king, and married his brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hamlet had gone too far to leave off here. He was now in the humor to
+      speak plainly to his mother, and he pursued it. And though the faults of
+      parents are to be tenderly treated by their children, yet in the case of
+      great crimes the son may have leave to speak even to his own mother with
+      some harshness, so as that harshness is meant for her good and to turn her
+      from her wicked ways, and not done for the purpose of upbraiding. And now
+      this virtuous prince did in moving terms represent to the queen the
+      heinousness of her offense in being so forgetful of the dead king, his
+      father, as in so short a space of time to marry with his brother and
+      reputed murderer. Such an act as, after the vows which she had sworn to
+      her first husband, was enough to make all vows of women suspected and all
+      virtue to be accounted hypocrisy, wedding contracts to be less than
+      gamesters&rsquo; oaths, and religion to be a mockery and a mere form of
+      words. He said she had done such a deed that the heavens blushed at it,
+      and the earth was sick of her because of it. And he showed her two
+      pictures, the one of the late king, her first husband, and the other of
+      the present king, her second husband, and he bade her mark the difference;
+      what a grace was on the brow of his father, how like a god he looked! the
+      curls of Apollo, the forehead of Jupiter, the eye of Mars, and a posture
+      like to Mercury newly alighted on some heaven-kissing hill! this man, he
+      said, HAD BEEN her husband. And then be showed her whom she had got in his
+      stead; how like a blight or a mildew he looked, for so he had blasted his
+      wholesome brother. And the queen was sore ashamed that he should so turn
+      her eyes inward upon her soul, which she now saw so black and deformed.
+      And he asked her how she could continue to live with this man, and be a
+      wife to him, who had murdered her first husband and got the crown by as
+      false means as a thief&mdash;and just as he spoke the ghost of his father,
+      such as he was in his lifetime and such as he had lately seen it, entered
+      the room, and Hamlet, in great terror, asked what it would have; and the
+      ghost said that it came to remind him of the revenge he had promised,
+      which Hamlet seemed to have forgot; and the ghost bade him speak to his
+      mother, for the grief and terror she was in would else kill her. It then
+      vanished, and was seen by none but Hamlet, neither could he by pointing to
+      where it stood, or by any description, make his mother perceive it, who
+      was terribly frightened all this while to hear him conversing, as it
+      seemed to her, with nothing; and she imputed it to the disorder of his
+      mind. But Hamlet begged her not to flatter her wicked soul in such a
+      manner as to think that it was his madness, and not her own offenses,
+      which had brought his father&rsquo;s spirit again on the earth. And he
+      bade her feel his pulse, how temperately it beat, not like a madman&rsquo;s.
+      And he begged of her, with tears, to confess herself to Heaven for what
+      was past, and for the future to avoid the company of the king and be no
+      more as a wife to him; and when she should show herself a mother to him,
+      by respecting his father&rsquo;s memory, he would ask a blessing of her as
+      a son. And she promising to observe his directions, the conference ended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Hamlet was at leisure to consider who it was that in his
+      unfortunate rashness he had killed; and when he came to see that it was
+      Polonius, the father of the Lady Ophelia whom he so dearly loved, he drew
+      apart the dead body, and, his spirits being now a little quieter, he wept
+      for what he had done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The unfortunate death of Polonius gave the king a pretense for sending
+      Hamlet out of the kingdom. He would willingly have put him to death,
+      fearing him as dangerous; but he dreaded the people, who loved Hamlet, and
+      the queen, who, with all her faults, doted upon the prince, her son. So
+      this subtle king, under pretense of providing for Hamlet&rsquo;s safety,
+      that he might not be called to account for Polonius&rsquo;s death, caused
+      him to be conveyed on board a ship bound for England, under the care of
+      two courtiers, by whom he despatched letters to the English court, which
+      in that time was in subjection and paid tribute to Denmark, requiring, for
+      special reasons there pretended, that Hamlet should be put to death as
+      soon as he landed on English ground. Hamlet, suspecting some treachery, in
+      the nighttime secretly got at the letters, and, skilfully erasing his own
+      name, he in the stead of it put in the names of those two courtiers, who
+      had the charge of him, to be put to death; then sealing up the letters, he
+      put them into their place again. Soon after the ship was attacked by
+      pirates, and a sea-fight commenced, in the course of which Hamlet,
+      desirous to show his valor, with sword in hand singly boarded the enemy&rsquo;s
+      vessel; while his own ship, in a cowardly manner, bore away; and leaving
+      him to his fate, the two courtiers made the best of their way to England,
+      charged with those letters the sense of which Hamlet had altered to their
+      own deserved destruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pirates who had the prince in their power showed themselves gentle
+      enemies, and, knowing whom they had got prisoner, in the hope that the
+      prince might do them a good turn at court in recompense for any favor they
+      might show him, they set Hamlet on shore at the nearest port in Denmark.
+      From that place Hamlet wrote to the king, acquainting him with the strange
+      chance which had brought him back to his own country and saying that on
+      the next day he should present himself before his Majesty. When he got
+      home a sad spectacle offered itself the first thing to his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the funeral of the young and beautiful Ophelia, his once dear
+      mistress. The wits of this young lady had begun to turn ever since her
+      poor father&rsquo;s death. That he should die a violent death, and by the
+      hands of the prince whom she loved, so affected this tender young maid
+      that in a little time she grew perfectly distracted, and would go about
+      giving flowers away to the ladies of the court, and saying that they were
+      for her father&rsquo;s burial, singing songs about love and about death,
+      and sometimes such as had no meaning at all, as if she had no memory of
+      what happened to her. There was a willow which grew slanting over a brook,
+      and reflected its leaves on the stream. To this brook she came one day
+      when she was unwatched, with garlands she had been making, mixed up of
+      daisies and nettles, flowers and weeds together, and clambering up to bang
+      her garland upon the boughs of the willow, a bough broke and precipitated
+      this fair young maid, garland, and all that she had gathered, into the
+      water, where her clothes bore her up for a while, during which she chanted
+      scraps of old tunes, like one insensible to her own distress, or as if she
+      were a creature natural to that element; but long it was not before her
+      garments, heavy with the wet, pulled her in from her melodious singing to
+      a muddy and miserable death. It was the funeral of this fair maid which
+      her brother Laertes was celebrating, the king and queen and whole court
+      being present, when Hamlet arrived. He knew not what all this show
+      imported, but stood on one side, not inclining to interrupt the ceremony.
+      He saw the flowers strewed upon her grave, as the custom was in maiden
+      burials, which the queen herself threw in; and as she threw them she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bride bed, sweet
+      maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have been my Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he heard her brother wish that violets might spring from her grave;
+      and he saw him leap into the grave all frantic with grief, and bid the
+      attendants pile mountains of earth upon him, that he might be buried with
+      her. And Hamlet&rsquo;s love for this fair maid came back to him, and he
+      could not bear that a brother should show so much transport of grief, for
+      he thought that he loved Ophelia better than forty thousand brothers. Then
+      discovering himself, he leaped into the grave where Laertes was, all as
+      frantic or more frantic than he, and Laertes, knowing him to be Hamlet,
+      who had been the cause of his father&rsquo;s and his sister&rsquo;s death,
+      grappled him by the throat as an enemy, till the attendants parted them;
+      and Hamlet, after the funeral, excused his hasty act in throwing himself
+      into the grave as if to brave Laertes; but he said he could not bear that
+      any one should seem to outgo him in grief for the death of the fair
+      Ophelia. And for the time these two noble youths seemed reconciled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But out of the grief and anger of Laertes for the death of his father and
+      Ophelia the king, Hamlet&rsquo;s wicked uncle, contrived destruction for
+      Hamlet. He set on Laertes, under cover of peace and reconciliation, to
+      challenge Hamlet to a friendly trial of skill at fencing, which Hamlet
+      accepting, a day was appointed to try the match. At this match all the
+      court was present, and Laertes, by direction of the king, prepared a
+      poisoned weapon. Upon this match great wagers were laid by the courtiers,
+      as both Hamlet and Laertes were known to excel at this sword play; and
+      Hamlet, taking up the foils, chose one, not at all suspecting the
+      treachery of Laertes, or being careful to examine Laertes&rsquo;s weapon,
+      who, instead of a foil or blunted sword, which the laws of fencing
+      require, made use of one with a point, and poisoned. At first Laertes did
+      but play with Hamlet, and suffered him to gain some advantages, which the
+      dissembling king magnified and extolled beyond measure, drinking to Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      success and wagering rich bets upon the issue. But after a few pauses
+      Laertes, growing warm, made a deadly thrust at Hamlet with his poisoned
+      weapon, and gave him a mortal blow. Hamlet, incensed, but not knowing,the
+      whole of the treachery, in the scuffle exchanged his own innocent weapon
+      for Laertes&rsquo;s deadly one, and with a thrust of Laertes&rsquo;s own
+      sword repaid Laertes home, who was thus justly caught in his own
+      treachery. In this instant the queen shrieked out that she was poisoned.
+      She had inadvertently drunk out of a bowl which the king had prepared for
+      Hamlet, in case that, being warm in fencing, he should call for drink;
+      into this the treacherous king had infused a deadly poison, to make sure
+      of Hamlet, if Laertes had failed. He had forgotten to warn the queen of
+      the bowl, which she drank of, and immediately died, exclaiming with her
+      last breath that she was poisoned. Hamlet, suspecting some treachery,
+      ordered the doors to be shut while he sought it out. Laertes told him to
+      seek no farther, for he was the traitor; and feeling his life go away with
+      the wound which Hamlet had given him, he made confession of the treachery
+      he had used and how he had fallen a victim to it: and he told Hamlet of
+      the envenomed point, and said that Hamlet had not half an hour to live,
+      for no medicine could cure him; and begging forgiveness of Hamlet, he
+      died, with his last words accusing the king of being the contriver of the
+      mischief. When Hamlet saw his end draw near, there being yet some venom
+      left upon the sword, he suddenly turned upon his false uncle and thrust
+      the point of it to his heart, fulfilling the promise which he had made to
+      his father&rsquo;s spirit, whose injunction was now accomplished and his
+      foul murder revenged upon the murderer. Then Hamlet, feeling his breath
+      fail and life departing, turned to his dear friend Horatio, who had been
+      spectator of this fatal tragedy; and with his dying breath requested him
+      that he would live to tell his story to the world (for Horatio had made a
+      motion as if he would slay himself to accompany the prince in death), and
+      Horatio promised that he would make a true report as one that was privy to
+      all the circumstances. And, thus satisfied, the noble heart of Hamlet
+      cracked; and Horatio and the bystanders with many tears commended the
+      spirit of this sweet prince to the guardianship of angels. For Hamlet was
+      a loving and a gentle prince and greatly beloved for his many noble and
+      princelike qualities; and if he had lived, would no doubt have proved a
+      most royal and complete king to Denmark.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap19"></a>OTHELLO</h2>
+    <p>
+      Brabantio, the rich senator of Venice, had a fair daughter, the gentle
+      Desdemona. She was sought to by divers suitors, both on account of her
+      many virtuous qualities and for her rich expectations. But among the
+      suitors of her own clime and complexion she saw none whom she could
+      affect, for this noble lady, who regarded the mind more than the features
+      of men, with a singularity rather to be admired than imitated had chosen
+      for the object of her affections a Moor, a black, whom her father loved
+      and often invited to his house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither is Desdemona to be altogether condemned for the unsuitableness of
+      the person whom she selected for her lover. Bating that Othello was black,
+      the noble Moor wanted nothing which might recommend him to the affections
+      of the greatest lady. He was a soldier, and a brave one; and by his
+      conduct in bloody wars against the Turks had risen to the rank of general
+      in the Venetian service, and was esteemed and trusted by the state.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had been a traveler, and Desdemona (as is the manner of ladies) loved
+      to hear him tell the story of his adventures, which he would run through
+      from his earliest recollection; the battles, sieges, and encounters which
+      he had passed through; the perils he had been exposed to by land and by
+      water; his hair-breadth escapes, when he had entered a breach or marched
+      up to the mouth of a cannon; and how he had been taken prisoner by the
+      insolent enemy, and sold to slavery; how he demeaned himself in that
+      state, and how he escaped: all these accounts, added to the narration of
+      the strange things he had seen in foreign countries, the vast wilderness
+      and romantic caverns, the quarries, the rocks and mountains whose heads
+      are in the clouds; of the savage nations, the cannibals who are
+      man-eaters, and a race of people in Africa whose heads do grow beneath
+      their shoulders. These travelers&rsquo; stories would so enchain the
+      attention of Desdemona that if she were called off at any time by
+      household affairs she would despatch with all haste that business, and
+      return, and with a greedy ear devour Othello&rsquo;s discourse. And once
+      he took advantage of a pliant hour and drew from her a prayer that he
+      would tell her the whole story of his life at large, of which she had
+      heard so much, but only by parts. To which he consented, and beguiled her
+      of many a tear when he spoke of some distressful stroke which his youth
+      had suffered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His story being done, she gave him for his pains a world of sighs. She
+      swore a pretty oath that it was all passing strange, and pitiful, wondrous
+      pitiful. She wished (she said) she had not heard it, yet she wished that
+      Heaven had made her such a man; and then she thanked him, and told him, if
+      he had a friend who loved her, he had only to teach him how to tell his
+      story and that would woo her. Upon this hint, delivered not with more
+      frankness than modesty, accompanied with certain bewitching prettiness and
+      blushes, which Othello could not but understand, he spoke more openly of
+      his love, and in this golden opportunity gained the consent of the
+      generous Lady Desdemona privately to marry him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither Othello&rsquo;s color nor his fortune was such that it could be
+      hoped Brabantio would accept him for a son-in-law. He had left his
+      daughter free; but he did expect that, as the manner of noble Venetian
+      ladies was, she would choose erelong a husband of senatorial rank or
+      expectations; but in this he was deceived. Desdemona loved the Moor,
+      though he was black, and devoted her heart and fortunes to his valiant
+      parts and qualities. So was her heart subdued to an implicit devotion to
+      the man she had selected for a husband that his very color, which to all
+      but this discerning lady would have proved an insurmountable objection,
+      was by her esteemed above all the white skins and clear complexions of the
+      young Venetian nobility, her suitors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Their marriage, which, though privately carried, could not long be kept a
+      secret, came to the ears of the old man, Brabantio, who appeared in a
+      solemn council of the senate as an accuser of the Moor Othello, who by
+      spells and witchcraft (he maintained) had seduced the affections of the
+      fair Desdemona to marry him, without the consent of her father, and
+      against the obligations of hospitality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture of time it happened that the state of Venice had
+      immediate need of the services of Othello, news having arrived that the
+      Turks with mighty preparation had fitted out a fleet, which was bending
+      its course to the island of Cyprus, with intent to regain that strong post
+      from the Venetians, who then held it; in this emergency the state turned
+      its eyes upon Othello, who alone was deemed adequate to conduct the
+      defense of Cyprus against the Turks. So that Othello, now summoned before
+      the senate, stood in their presence at once as a candidate for a great
+      state employment and as a culprit charged with offenses which by the laws
+      of Venice were made capital.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The age and senatorial character of old Brabantio commanded a most patient
+      hearing from that grave assembly; but the incensed father conducted his
+      accusation with so much intemperance, producing likelihoods and
+      allegations for proofs, that, when Othello was called upon for his
+      defense, he had only to relate a plain tale of the course of his love;
+      which he did with such an artless eloquence, recounting the whole story of
+      his wooing as we have related it above, and delivered his speech with so
+      noble a plainness (the evidence of truth) that the duke, who sat as chief
+      judge, could not help confessing that a tale so told would have won his
+      daughter, too, and the spells and conjurations which Othello had used in
+      his courtship plainly appeared to have been no more than the honest arts
+      of men in love, and the only witchcraft which he had used the faculty of
+      telling a soft tale to win a lady&rsquo;s ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This statement of Othello was confirmed by the testimony of the Lady
+      Desdemona herself, who appeared in court and, professing a duty to her
+      father for life and education, challenged leave of him to profess a yet
+      higher duty to her lord and husband, even so much as her mother had shown
+      in preferring him (Brabantio) above HER father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old senator, unable to maintain his plea, called the Moor to him with
+      many expressions of sorrow, and, as an act of necessity, bestowed upon him
+      his daughter, whom, if he had been free to withhold her (he told him), he
+      would with all his heart have kept from him; adding that he was glad at
+      soul that he had no other child, for this behavior of Desdemona would have
+      taught him to be a tyrant and hang clogs on them for her desertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This difficulty being got over, Othello, to whom custom had rendered the
+      hardships of a military life as natural as food and rest are to other men,
+      readily undertook the management of the wars in Cyprus; and Desdemona,
+      preferring the honor of her lord (though with danger) before the
+      indulgence of those idle delights in which new-married people usually
+      waste their time, cheerfully consented to his going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner were Othello and his lady landed in Cyprus than news arrived
+      that a desperate tempest had dispersed the Turkish fleet, and thus the
+      island was secure from any immediate apprehension of an attack. But the
+      war which Othello was to suffer was now beginning; and the enemies which
+      malice stirred up against his innocent lady proved in their nature more
+      deadly than strangers or infidels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Among all the general&rsquo;s friends no one possessed the confidence of
+      Othello more entirely than Cassio. Michael Cassio was a young soldier, a
+      Florentine, gay, amorous, and of pleasing address, favorite qualities with
+      women; he was handsome and eloquent, and exactly such a person as might
+      alarm the jealousy of a man advanced in years (as Othello in some measure
+      was) who had married a young and beautiful wife; but Othello was as free
+      from jealousy as he was noble, and as incapable of suspecting as of doing
+      a base action. He had employed this Cassio in his love affair with
+      Desdemona, and Cassio had been a sort of go-between in his suit; for
+      Othello, fearing that himself had not those soft parts of conversation
+      which please ladies, and finding these qualities in his friend, would
+      often depute Cassio to go (as he phrased it) a-courting for him, such
+      innocent simplicity being rather an honor than a blemish to the character
+      of the valiant Moor. So that no wonder if, next to Othello himself (but at
+      far distance, as beseems a virtuous wife), the gentle Desdemona loved and
+      trusted Cassio. Nor had the marriage of this couple made any difference in
+      their behavior to Michael Cassio. He frequented their house, and his free
+      and rattling talk was no unpleasing variety to Othello, who was himself of
+      a more serious temper; for such tempers are observed often to delight in
+      their contraries, as a relief from the oppressive excess of their own; and
+      Desdemona and Cassio would talk and laugh together, as in the days when he
+      went a-courting for his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello had lately promoted Cassio to be the lieutenant, a place of trust,
+      and nearest to the general&rsquo;s person. This promotion gave great
+      offense to Iago, an older officer who thought he had a better claim than
+      Cassio, and would often ridicule Cassio as a fellow fit only for the
+      company of ladies and one that knew no more of the art of war or how to
+      set an army in array for battle than a girl. Iago hated Cassio, and he
+      hated Othello as well for favoring Cassio as for an unjust suspicion,
+      which he had lightly taken up against Othello, that the Moor was too fond
+      of Iago&rsquo;s wife Emilia. From these imaginary provocations the
+      plotting mind of Iago conceived a horrid scheme of revenge, which should
+      involve Cassio, the Moor, and Desdemona in one common ruin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iago was artful, and had studied human nature deeply, and he knew that of
+      all the torments which afflict the mind of man (and far beyond bodily
+      torture) the pains of jealousy were the most intolerable and had the
+      sorest sting. If he could succeed in making Othello jealous of Cassio he
+      thought it would be an exquisite plot of revenge and might end in the
+      death of Cassio or Othello, or both; he cared not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The arrival of the general and his lady in Cyprus, meeting with news of
+      the dispersion of the enemy&rsquo;s fleet, made a sort of holiday in the
+      island. Everybody gave himself up to feasting and making merry. Wine
+      flowed in abundance, and cups went round to the health of the black
+      Othello and his lady the fair Desdemona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge from
+      Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that no brawl might
+      arise to fright the inhabitants or disgust them with the new-landed
+      forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid plans of mischief. Under color
+      of loyalty and love to the general, he enticed Cassio to make rather too
+      free with the bottle (a great fault in an officer upon guard). Cassio for
+      a time resisted, but he could not long hold out against the honest freedom
+      which Iago knew how to put on, but kept swallowing glass after glass (as
+      Iago still plied him with drink and encouraging songs), and Cassio&rsquo;s
+      tongue ran over in praise of the Lady Desdemona, whom he again and again
+      toasted, affirming that she was a most exquisite lady. Until at last the
+      enemy which he put into his mouth stole away his brains; and upon some
+      provocation given him by a fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn,
+      and Montano, a worthy officer, who interfered to appease the dispute, was
+      wounded in the scuffle. The riot now began to be general, and Iago, who
+      had set on foot the mischief, was foremost in spreading the alarm, causing
+      the castle bell to be rung (as if some dangerous mutiny instead of a
+      slight drunken quarrel had arisen). The alarm-bell ringing awakened
+      Othello, who, dressing in a hurry and coming to the scene of action,
+      questioned Cassio of the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the wine having a little
+      gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and Iago, pretending a great
+      reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were, forced into it by Othello,
+      who insisted to know the truth, gave an account of the whole matter
+      (leaving out his own share in it, which Cassio was too far gone to
+      remember) in such a manner as, while he seemed to make Cassio&rsquo;s
+      offense less, did indeed make it appear greater than it was. The result
+      was that Othello, who was a strict observer of discipline, was compelled
+      to take away Cassio&rsquo;s place of lieutenant from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus did Iago&rsquo;s first artifice succeed completely; he had now
+      undermined his hated rival and thrust him,out of his place; but a further
+      use was hereafter to be made of the adventure of this disastrous night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio, whom this misfortune had entirely sobered, now lamented to his
+      seeming friend Iago that he should have been such a fool as to transform
+      himself into a beast. He was undone, for how could he ask the general for
+      his place again? He would tell him he was a drunkard. He despised himself.
+      Iago, affecting to make light of it, said that he, or any man living,
+      might be drunk upon occasion; it remained now to make the best of a bad
+      bargain. The general&rsquo;s wife was now the general, and could do
+      anything with Othello; that he were best to apply to the Lady Desdemona to
+      mediate for him with her lord; that she was of a frank, obliging
+      disposition and would readily undertake a good office of this sort and set
+      Cassio right again in the general&rsquo;s favor; and then this crack in
+      their love would be made stronger than ever. A good advice of Iago, if it
+      had not been given for wicked purposes, which will after appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio did as Iago advised him, and made application to the Lady
+      Desdemona, who was easy to be won over in any honest suit; and she
+      promised Cassio that she should be his solicitor with her lord, and rather
+      die than give up his cause. This she immediately set about in so earnest
+      and pretty a manner that Othello, who was mortally offended with Cassio,
+      could not put her off. When he pleaded delay, and that it was too soon to
+      pardon such an offender, she would not be beat back, but insisted that it
+      should be the next night, or the morning after, or the next morning to
+      that at farthest. Then she showed how penitent and humbled poor Cassio
+      was, and that his offense did not deserve so sharp a check. And when
+      Othello still hung back:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! my lord,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;that I should have so much
+      to do to plead for Cassio, Michael Cassio, that came a-courting for you,
+      and oftentimes, when I have spoken in dispraise of you has taken your
+      part! I count this but a little thing to ask of you. When I mean to try
+      your love indeed I shall ask a weighty matter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello could deny nothing to such a pleader, and only requesting that
+      Desdemona would leave the time to him, promised to receive Michael Cassio
+      again in favor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened that Othello and Iago had entered into the room where
+      Desdemona was, just as Cassio, who had been imploring her intercession,
+      was departing at the opposite door; and Iago, who was full of art, said in
+      a low voice, as if to himself, &ldquo;I like not that.&rdquo; Othello took
+      no great notice of what he said; indeed, the conference which immediately
+      took place with his lady put it out of his head; but he remembered it
+      afterward. For when Desdemona was gone, Iago, as if for mere satisfaction
+      of his thought, questioned Othello whether Michael Cassio, when Othello
+      was courting his lady, knew of his love. To this the general answering in
+      the affirmative, and adding, that he had gone between them very often
+      during the courtship, Iago knitted his brow, as if he had got fresh light
+      on some terrible matter, and cried, &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; This brought
+      into Othello&rsquo;s mind the words which Iago had let fall upon entering
+      the room and seeing Cassio with Desdemona; and he began to think there was
+      some meaning in all this, for he deemed Iago to be a just man, and full of
+      love and honesty, and what in a false knave would be tricks in him seemed
+      to be the natural workings of an honest mind, big with something too great
+      for utterance. And Othello prayed Iago to speak what he knew and to give
+      his worst thoughts words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what,&rdquo; said Iago, &ldquo;if some thoughts very vile
+      should have intruded into my breast, as where is the palace into which
+      foul things do not enter?&rdquo; Then Iago went on to say, what a pity it
+      were if any trouble should arise to Othello out of his imperfect
+      observations; that it would not be for Othello&rsquo;s peace to know his
+      thoughts; that people&rsquo;s good names were not to be taken away for
+      slight suspicions; and when Othello&rsquo;s curiosity was raised almost to
+      distraction with these hints and scattered words, Iago, as if in earnest
+      care for Othello&rsquo;s peace of mind, besought him to beware of
+      jealousy. With such art did this villain raise suspicions in the unguarded
+      Othello, by the very caution which he pretended to give him against
+      suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;that my wife is fair, loves
+      company and feasting, is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
+      but where virtue is, these qualities are virtuous. I must have proof
+      before I think her dishonest.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Iago, as if glad that Othello was slow to believe ill of his lady,
+      frankly declared that he had no proof, but begged Othello to see her
+      behavior well, when Cassio was by; not to be jealous nor too secure
+      neither, for that he (Iago) knew the dispositions of the Italian ladies,
+      his country-women, better than Othello could do; and that in Venice the
+      wives let Heaven see many pranks they dared not show their husbands. Then
+      he artfully insinuated that Desdemona deceived her father in marrying with
+      Othello, and carried it so closely that the poor old man thought that
+      witchcraft had been used. Othello was much moved with this argument, which
+      brought the matter home to him, for if she had deceived her father why
+      might she not deceive her husband?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iago begged pardon for having moved him; but Othello, assuming an
+      indifference, while he was really shaken with inward grief at Iago&rsquo;s
+      words, begged him to go on, which Iago did with many apologies, as if
+      unwilling to produce anything against Cassio, whom he called his friend.
+      He then came strongly to the point and reminded Othello how Desdemona had
+      refused many suitable matches of her own clime and complexion, and had
+      married him, a Moor, which showed unnatural in her and proved her to have
+      a headstrong will; and when her better judgment returned, how probable it
+      was she should fall upon comparing Othello with the fine forms and clear
+      white complexions of the young Italians her countrymen. He concluded with
+      advising Othello to put off his reconcilement with Cassio a little longer,
+      and in the mean while to note with what earnestness Desdemona should
+      intercede in his behalf; for that much would be seen in that. So
+      mischievously did this artful villain lay his plots to turn the gentle
+      qualities of this innocent lady into her destruction, and make a net for
+      her out of her own goodness to entrap her, first setting Cassio on to
+      entreat her mediation, and then out of that very mediation contriving
+      stratagems for her ruin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The conference ended with Iago&rsquo;s begging Othello to account his wife
+      innocent until he had more decisive proof; and Othello promised to be
+      patient; but from that moment the deceived Othello never tasted content of
+      mind. Poppy, nor the juice of mandragora, nor all the sleeping potions in
+      the world, could ever again restore to him that sweet rest which he had
+      enjoyed but yesterday. His occupation sickened upon him. He no longer took
+      delight in arms. His heart, that used to be roused at the sight of troops
+      and banners and battle array, and would stir and leap at the sound of a
+      drum or a trumpet or a neighing war-horse, seemed to have lost all that
+      pride and ambition which are a soldier&rsquo;s virtue; and his military
+      ardor and all his old joys forsook him. Sometimes he thought his wife
+      honest, and at times he thought her not so; sometimes he thought Iago
+      just, and at times he thought him not so; then he would wish that he had
+      never known of it; he was not the worse for her loving Cassio, so long as
+      he knew it not. Torn to pieces with these distracting thoughts, he once
+      laid hold on Iago&rsquo;s throat and demanded proof of Desdemona&rsquo;s
+      guilt, or threatened instant death for his having belied her. Iago,
+      feigning indignation that his honesty should be taken for a vice, asked
+      Othello if he had not sometimes seen a handkerchief spotted with
+      strawberries in his wife&rsquo;s hand. Othello answered that he had given
+      her such a one, and that it was his first gift.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That same handkerchief,&rdquo; said Iago, &ldquo;did I see Michael
+      Cassio this day wipe his face with.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it be as you say,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;I will not rest
+      till a wide revenge swallow them up; and first, for a token of your
+      fidelity, I expect that Cassio shall be put to death within three days;
+      and for that fair devil [meaning his lady] I will withdraw and devise some
+      swift means of death for her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trifles light as air are to the jealous proofs as strong as holy writ. A
+      handkerchief of his wife&rsquo;s seen in Cassio&rsquo;s hand was motive
+      enough to the deluded Othello to pass sentence of death upon them both,
+      without once inquiring how Cassio came by it. Desdemona had never given
+      such a present to Cassio, nor would this constant lady have wronged her
+      lord with doing so naughty a thing as giving his presents to another man;
+      both Cassio and, Desdemona were innocent of any offense against Othello;
+      but the wicked Iago, whose spirits never slept in contrivance of villainy,
+      had made his wife (a good, but a weak woman) steal this handkerchief from
+      Desdemona, under pretense of getting the work copied, but in reality to
+      drop it in Cassio&rsquo;s way, where he might find it, and give a handle
+      to Iago&rsquo;s suggestion that it was Desdemona&rsquo;s present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello, soon after meeting his wife, pretended that he had a headache (as
+      he might indeed with truth), and desired her to lend him her handkerchief
+      to hold to his temples. She did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not this,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;but that handkerchief I gave
+      you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona had it not about her (for indeed it was stolen, as we have
+      related).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;this is a fault indeed. That
+      handkerchief an Egyptian woman gave to my mother; the woman was a witch
+      and could read people&rsquo;s thoughts. She told my mother while she kept
+      it it would make her amiable and my father would love her; but if she lost
+      it or gave it away, my father&rsquo;s fancy would turn and he would loathe
+      her as much as he had loved her. She, dying, gave it to me, and bade me,
+      if I ever married, to give it to my wife. I did so. Take heed of it. Make
+      it a darling as precious as your eye.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible?&rdquo; said the frighted lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis true,&rdquo; continued Othello; &ldquo;it is a magical
+      handkerchief; a sibyl that had lived in the world two hundred years, in a
+      fit of prophetic fury worked it; the silkworms that furnished the silk
+      were hallowed, and it was dyed in a mummy of maidens&rsquo; hearts
+      conserved.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona, hearing the wondrous virtues of the handkerchief, was ready to
+      die with fear, for she plainly perceived she had lost it, and with it, she
+      feared, the affections of her husband. Then Othello started and looked as
+      if he were going to do some rash thing, and still he demanded the
+      handkerchief, which when she could not produce, she tried to divert her
+      husband from too serious thoughts, and cheerfully told him she saw all his
+      talk about the handkerchief was only to put her off from her suit about
+      Michael Cassio, whom she went on to praise (as Iago had foretold), till
+      Othello in perfect distraction burst out of the room, and then Desdemona,
+      though unwillingly, began to suspect that her lord was jealous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What cause she could have ministered to him she knew not, and then she
+      accused herself for accusing the noble Othello, and thought, to be sure,
+      that some untoward news from Venice or some state troubles had puddled his
+      spirits and made his temper not so sweet as formerly. And she said,
+      &ldquo;Men are not gods, and we must not look for that observance from
+      them when they are married which they show us on the bridal day.&rdquo;
+      And she beshrewed herself for so unkindly judging of his unkindness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Othello and Desdemona met, and he accused her more plainly of being
+      unfaithful and of loving another man, but he did not name whom. And
+      Othello wept, and Desdemona said, &ldquo;Alas! the heavy day! why do you
+      weep?&rdquo; And Othello told her he could have borne all sorts of evils
+      with fortitude&mdash;poverty, and disease, and disgrace&mdash;but her
+      infidelity had broken his heart. And he called her a weed that looked so
+      fair and smelled so sweet that the sense ached at it; and wished she had
+      never been born. And when he had left her this innocent lady was so
+      stupefied with wonder at her lord&rsquo;s untrue suspicion of her that a
+      weightlike sleep came over her, and she only desired her attendant to make
+      her bed and to lay her wedding-sheets upon it, saying that when people
+      teach their babes they do it by gentle means and easy tasks, and Othello
+      might have chid her so; for in good faith she was but a child when she was
+      chidden. And this was all the complaint which this gentle lady made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona being retired to bed, expecting her lord would follow her, soon
+      fell into a slumber, the effect of her troubled spirits, when Othello
+      entered the chamber, full of the black purpose which he had meditated, of
+      putting his lady to death. But when he saw her asleep he thought he would
+      not shed her blood, nor scar that white skin of hers, more white than
+      alabaster. But he was resolved she should die, else (as he said) she would
+      live to betray, more men as she had done him. Then he kissed her for the
+      last time (as he said), and that kiss was so sweet that he must needs kiss
+      her again; and he wept, but he said they were cruel tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona was awakened with his kisses, and she looked upon Othello, and
+      she saw him gnaw his under lip and roll his eyes, and she knew he was
+      always fatal when he looked so; and he bade her prepare for death and to
+      say her prayers, for he would not kill her soul. And this innocent wife,
+      as she lay at his mercy, begged for compassion and to know her fault, and
+      then he named Cassio, and the handkerchief which (he said) she had given
+      him; and as the guiltless lady was proceeding to clear herself he suddenly
+      would hear no more, but, covering her up in the bedclothes, stifled her
+      till she died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this instant of time was brought into the house Cassio, wounded and
+      bleeding, whom Iago had set one of his creatures on to assassinate; but
+      the fellow not succeeding in his attempt to kill Cassio (whom he wounded,
+      but not mortally), and being him- self killed by Iago to prevent
+      discovery, in his pockets were found certain letters, which made the guilt
+      of Iago, and the innocence of Cassio, clear beyond all doubt; and Cassio
+      now came to beg pardon of Othello, and to ask wherein he had offended him,
+      that he had employed Iago to murder him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This discovery was as a thunderstroke to Othello, who now plainly saw that
+      he was no better than a murderer, and that his wife (poor innocent lady)
+      had been ever faithful to him; the extreme anguish of which discovery
+      making life insupportable, he fell upon his sword, and throwing himself
+      upon the body of his dear injured lady, expired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These rash acts raised much passion of horror and amazement in the
+      bystanders, for Othello had borne a fair reputation, and till he was
+      wrought upon by the arts of a villain, which his own noble nature never
+      gave him leave to suspect, he was a loving and a doting husband. He had
+      loved not wisely, but too well; and his manly eyes (when be learned his
+      mistake), though not used to weep on every small occasion, dropped tears
+      as fast as the Arabian trees their gum. And when he was dead all his
+      former merits and his valiant acts were remembered. Nothing now remained
+      for his successor but to put the utmost censure of the law in force
+      against Iago, who was executed with strict tortures; and to send word to
+      the state of Venice of the lamentable death of their renowned general.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap20"></a>PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Pericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his dominions, to
+      avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the wicked emperor of
+      Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects and city of Tyre, in revenge
+      for a discovery which the prince had made of a shocking deed which the
+      emperor had done in secret; as commonly it proves dangerous to pry into
+      the hidden crimes of great ones. Leaving the government of his people in
+      the hands of his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail
+      from Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who was
+      mighty, should be appeased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first place which the prince directed his course to was Tarsus, and
+      hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time suffering under a severe
+      famine, he took with him a store of provisions for its relief. On his
+      arrival he found the city reduced to the utmost distress; and, he coming
+      like a messenger from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the
+      governor of Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks. Pericles had not
+      been here many days before letters came from his faithful minister,
+      warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for Antiochus
+      knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched for that purpose
+      sought his life. Upon receipt of these letters Pericles put out to sea
+      again, amid the blessings and prayers of a whole people who had been fed
+      by his bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful storm, and
+      every man on board perished except Pericles, who was cast by the sea waves
+      naked on an unknown shore, where he had not wandered long before he met
+      with some poor fishermen, who invited him to their homes, giving him
+      clothes and provisions. The fishermen told Pericles the name of their
+      country was Pentapolis, and that their king was Simonides, commonly called
+      the good Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.
+      From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young daughter,
+      and that the following day was her birthday, when a grand tournament was
+      to be held at court, many princes and knights being come from all parts to
+      try their skill in arms for the love of Thaisa, this fair princess. While
+      the prince was listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss
+      of his good armor, which disabled him from making one among these valiant
+      knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of armor that he had
+      taken out of the sea with his fishing-net, which proved to be the very
+      armor he had lost. When Pericles beheld his own armor he said: &ldquo;Thanks,
+      Fortune; after all my crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This
+      armor was bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have
+      so loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me, and the
+      rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm, hath given it
+      back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have my father&rsquo;s gift
+      again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father&rsquo;s armor, repaired to
+      the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at the
+      tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and valiant
+      princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of Thaisa&rsquo;s
+      love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments for the love of
+      kings&rsquo; daughters, if one proved sole victor over all the rest, it
+      was usual for the great lady for whose sake these deeds of valor were
+      undertaken to bestow all her respect upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did
+      not depart from this custom, for she presently dismissed all the princes
+      and knights whom Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her
+      especial favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as
+      king of that day&rsquo;s happiness; and Pericles became a most passionate
+      lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment he beheld her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble qualities of
+      Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished gentleman and well learned in
+      all excellent arts, that though he knew not the rank of this royal
+      stranger (for Pericles for fear of Antiochus gave out that he was a
+      private gentleman of Tyre), yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the
+      valiant unknown for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter&rsquo;s
+      affections were firmly fixed upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he received
+      intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that his subjects of
+      Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened to revolt and talked of
+      placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne. This news came from Helicanus
+      himself, who, being a loyal subject to his royal master, would not accept
+      of the high dignity offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their
+      intentions, that he might return home and resume his lawful right. It was
+      matter of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his son-in-law
+      (the obscure knight) was the renowned Prince of Tyre; yet again he
+      regretted that he was not the private gentleman he supposed him to be,
+      seeing that he must now part both with his admired son-in-law and his
+      beloved daughter, whom he feared to trust to the perils of the sea,
+      because Thaisa was with child; and Pericles himself wished her to remain
+      with her father till after her confinement; but the poor lady so earnestly
+      desired to go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she
+      would reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long before they
+      reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so terrified Thaisa
+      that she was taken ill, and in a short space of time her nurse, Lychorida,
+      came to Pericles with a little child in her arms, to tell the prince the
+      sad tidings that his wife died the moment her little babe was born. She
+      held the babe toward its father, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of
+      your dead queen.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he heard his
+      wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then
+      snatch those gifts away?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience, good sir,&rdquo; said Lychorida, &ldquo;here is all that
+      is left alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child&rsquo;s
+      sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this precious
+      charge.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the little
+      babe: &ldquo;Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous birth had
+      never babe! May your condition be mild and gentle, for you have had the
+      rudest welcome that ever prince&rsquo;s child did meet with! May that
+      which follows be happy, for you have had as chiding a nativity as fire,
+      air, water, earth, and heaven could make to herald you from the womb! Even
+      at the first, your loss,&rdquo; meaning in the death of her mother,
+      &ldquo;is more than all the joys, which you shall find upon this earth to
+      which you are come a new visitor, shall be able to recompense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors having a
+      superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship the storm would
+      never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that his queen should be
+      thrown overboard; and they said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What courage, sir? God save you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Courage enough,&rdquo; said the sorrowing prince. &ldquo;I do not
+      fear the storm; it has done to me its worst; yet for the love of this poor
+      infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the sailors, &ldquo;your queen must overboard. The
+      sea works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till the
+      ship be cleared of the dead.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition was, yet he
+      patiently submitted, saying: &ldquo;As you think meet. Then she must
+      overboard, most wretched queen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear wife, and
+      as he looked on his Thaisa he said: &ldquo;A terrible childbed hast thou
+      had, my dear; no light, no fire; the unfriendly elements forget thee
+      utterly, nor have I time to bring thee hallowed to thy grave, but must
+      cast thee scarcely coffined into the sea, where for a monument upon thy
+      bones the humming waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple
+      shells. O Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket
+      and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin. Lay the babe
+      upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida, while I say a
+      priestly farewell to my Thaisa.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They brought Pericles a large chest, in which (wrapped in a satin shroud)
+      he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed over her, and
+      beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written paper telling who she was
+      and praying if haply any one should find the chest which contained the
+      body of his wife they would give her burial; and then with his own hands
+      he cast the chest into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered
+      the sailors to make for Tarsus. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;the
+      babe cannot hold out till we come to Tyre. At Tarsus I will leave it at
+      careful nursing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea, and
+      while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy gentleman of Ephesus
+      and a most skilful physician, was standing by the seaside, his servants
+      brought to him a chest, which they said the sea waves had thrown on the
+      land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw,&rdquo; said one of them, &ldquo;so huge a billow as
+      cast it on our shore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and when it was
+      opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and lovely lady; and the
+      sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of jewels made him conclude it was
+      some great person who was thus strangely entombed. Searching farther, he
+      discovered a paper, from which he learned that the corpse which lay as
+      dead before him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre;
+      and much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more pitying
+      the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said: &ldquo;If you are
+      living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks with woe.&rdquo; Then,
+      observing attentively Thaisa&rsquo;s face, he saw how fresh and unlike
+      death her looks were, and he said, &ldquo;They were too hasty that threw
+      you into the sea&rdquo;; for he did not believe her to be dead. He ordered
+      a fire to be made, and proper cordials to be brought, and soft music to be
+      played, which might help to calm her amazed spirits if she should revive;
+      and he said to those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw,
+      &ldquo;O, I pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she
+      has not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow into
+      life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this fair creature
+      will live to make us weep to hear her fate.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had fallen
+      into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her to be dead; and
+      now by the care of this kind gentleman she once more revived to light and
+      life; and, opening her eyes, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen her; and
+      when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the sight he showed her
+      the paper written by her husband, and the jewels; and she looked on the
+      paper and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my lord&rsquo;s writing. That I was shipped at sea I well
+      remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy gods I
+      cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never shall see again, I
+      will put on a vestal livery and never more have joy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; said Cerimon, &ldquo;if you purpose as you speak, the
+      temple of Diana is not far distant from hence; there you may abide as a
+      vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there attend you.&rdquo;
+      This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa; and when she was
+      perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the temple of Diana, where she
+      became a vestal or priestess of that goddess, and passed her days in
+      sorrowing for her husband&rsquo;s supposed loss, and in the most devout
+      exercises of those times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina, because she was
+      born at sea) to Tarsus, intending to leave her with Cleon, the governor of
+      that city, and his wife Dionysia, thinking, for the good he had done to
+      them at the time of their famine, they would be kind to his little
+      motherless daughter. When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great
+      loss which had befallen him he said, &ldquo;Oh, your sweet queen, that it
+      had pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed my
+      eyes with the sight of her!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles replied: &ldquo;We must obey the powers above us. Should I rage
+      and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end must be as it
+      is. My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your charity with her. I
+      leave her the infant of your care, beseeching you to give her princely
+      training.&rdquo; And then turning to Cleon&rsquo;s wife, Dionysia, he
+      said, &ldquo;Good madam, make me blessed in your tare in bringing up my
+      child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she answered, &ldquo;I have a child myself who shall not be more dear
+      to my respect than yours, my lord.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cleon made the like promise, saying: &ldquo;Your noble services,
+      Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn (for which in
+      their prayers they daily remember you) must in your child be thought on.
+      If I should neglect your child, my whole people that were by you relieved
+      would force me to my duty; but if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge
+      it on me and mine to the end of generation.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully attended
+      to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife Dionysia, and with
+      her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went away the little Marina knew
+      not her loss, but Lychorida wept sadly at parting with her royal master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no tears, Lychorida,&rdquo; said Pericles; &ldquo;no tears;
+      look to your little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in the quiet
+      possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom he thought dead,
+      remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina, whom this hapless mother had
+      never seen, was brought up by Cleon in a manner suitable to her high
+      birth. He gave her the most careful education, so that by the time Marina
+      attained the age of fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not
+      more studied in the learning of those times than was Marina. She sang like
+      one immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was so
+      skilful that she seemed to compose nature&rsquo;s own shapes in birds,
+      fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more like to each
+      other than they were to Marina&rsquo;s silken flowers. But when she had
+      gained from education all these graces which made her the general wonder,
+      Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her mortal enemy from jealousy, by
+      reason that her own daughter, from the slowness of her mind, was not able
+      to attain to that perfection wherein Marina excelled; and finding that all
+      praise was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same age
+      and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though not with the
+      same success, was in comparison disregarded, she formed a project to
+      remove Marina out of the way, vainly imagining that her untoward daughter
+      would be more respected when Marina was no more seen. To encompass this
+      she employed a man to murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design,
+      when Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died. Dionysia was
+      discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder when the
+      young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida. Leonine, the man she
+      employed to do this bad deed, though he was a very wicked man, could
+      hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so had Marina won all hearts to love
+      her. He said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a goodly creature!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fitter then the gods should have her,&rdquo; replied her
+      merciless enemy. &ldquo;Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse
+      Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied, &ldquo;I am resolved.&rdquo; And
+      so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed to an
+      untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of flowers in her hand,
+      which she said she would daily strew over the grave of good Lychorida. The
+      purple violet and the marigold should as a carpet hang upon her grave,
+      while summer days did last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas for met&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;poor unhappy maid, born in a
+      tempest, when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+      hurrying me from my friends.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now, Marina,&rdquo; said the dissembling Dionysia, &ldquo;do
+      you weep alone? How does it chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+      sorrow for Lychorida; you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is quite changed
+      with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your flowers&mdash;the sea air
+      will spoil them&mdash;and walk with Leonine; the air is fine, and will
+      enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm and walk with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, madam,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;I pray you let me not deprive
+      you of your servant&rdquo;; for Leonine was one of Dionysia&rsquo;s
+      attendants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo; said this artful woman, who wished for a
+      pretense to leave her alone with Leonine, &ldquo;I love the prince, your
+      father, and I love you. We every day expect your father here; and when he
+      comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of beauty we
+      reported you, he will think we have taken no care of you. Go, I pray you,
+      walk, and be cheerful once again. Be careful of that excellent complexion
+      which stole the hearts of old and young.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marina, being thus importuned, said, &ldquo;Well, I will go, but yet I
+      have no desire to it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine, &ldquo;Remember what I have
+      said!&rdquo; shocking words, for their meaning was that he should remember
+      to kill Marina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said, &ldquo;Is the wind
+      westerly that blows?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Southwest,&rdquo; replied Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was born the wind was north,&rdquo; said she; and then the
+      storm and tempest and all her father&rsquo;s sorrows, and her mother&rsquo;s
+      death, came full into her mind, and she said, &ldquo;My father, as
+      Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD SEAMEN, to the
+      sailors, galling his princely hands with the ropes, and, clasping to the
+      masts, he endured a sea that almost split the deck.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was this?&rdquo; said Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was born,&rdquo; replied Marina. &ldquo;Never were wind and
+      waves more violent.&rdquo; And then she described the storm, the action of
+      the sailors, the boatswain&rsquo;s whistle, and the loud call of the
+      master, which,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;trebled the confusion of the ship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her hapless birth
+      that these things seemed ever present to her imagination. But here Leonine
+      interrupted her with desiring her to say her prayers. &ldquo;What mean
+      you?&rdquo; said Marina, who began to fear, she knew not why.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it,&rdquo; said
+      Leonine; &ldquo;but be not tedious; the gods are quick of ear and I am
+      sworn to do my work in haste.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you kill me?&rdquo; said Marina. &ldquo;Alas! why?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To satisfy my lady,&rdquo; replied Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why would she have me killed?&rdquo; said Marina. &ldquo;Now, as I
+      can remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word nor
+      did any ill turn to any living creature. Believe me now, I never killed a
+      mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod upon a worm once against my will, but I wept
+      for it. How have I offended?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The murderer replied, &ldquo;My commission is not to reason on the deed,
+      but to do it.&rdquo; And he was just going to kill her when certain
+      pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing Marina, bore her
+      off as a prize to their ship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene and sold
+      her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition, Marina soon
+      became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene for her beauty and her
+      virtues, and the person to whom she was sold became rich by the money she
+      earned for him. She taught music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the
+      money she got by her scholars she gave to her master and mistress; and the
+      fame of her learning and her great industry came to the knowledge of
+      Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and Lysimachus
+      went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see this paragon of
+      excellence whom all the city praised so highly. Her conversation delighted
+      Lysimachus beyond measure, for, though he had heard much of this admired
+      maiden, he did not expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and
+      so good, as he perceived Marina to be; and he left her, saying he hoped
+      she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and that if
+      ever she heard from him again it should be for her good. Lysimachus
+      thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine breeding, and excellent
+      qualities, as well as for beauty and all outward graces, that he wished to
+      marry her, and, notwithstanding her humble situation, he hoped to find
+      that her birth was noble; but whenever when they asked her parentage she
+      would sit still and weep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told her he
+      had killed Marina; and that wicked woman gave out that she was dead, and
+      made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a stately monument; and
+      shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his loyal minister Helicanus, made
+      a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on purpose to see his daughter, intending to
+      take her home with him. And he never having beheld her since he left her
+      an infant in the care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince
+      rejoice at the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen! But
+      when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they had
+      erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched father endured,
+      and, not being able to bear the sight of that country where his last hope
+      and only memory of his dear Thaisa was entombed, he took ship and hastily
+      departed from Tarsus. From the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy
+      melancholy seized him. He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to
+      everything around him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by Mitylene,
+      where Marina dwelt; the governor of which place, Lysimachus, observing
+      this royal vessel from the shore, and desirous of knowing who was on
+      board, went in a barge to the side of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity.
+      Helicanus received him very courteously and told him that the ship came
+      from Tyre, and that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince.
+      &ldquo;A man sir,&rdquo; said Helicanus, &ldquo;who has not spoken to any
+      one these three months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his
+      grief; it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper,
+      but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he beheld
+      Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he said to him:
+      &ldquo;Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you! Hail, royal sir!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor did he
+      appear to perceive any stranger approached. And then Lysimachus bethought
+      him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply with her sweet tongue she
+      might win some answer from the silent prince; and with the consent of
+      Helicanus he sent for Marina, and when she entered the ship in which her
+      own father sat motionless with grief, they welcomed her on board as if
+      they had known she was their princess; and they cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a gallant lady.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble
+      birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed in a
+      wife.&rdquo; And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the lowly
+      seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find her, calling
+      her FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL MARINA, telling her a great prince on board that
+      ship had fallen into a sad and mournful silence; and, as if Marina had the
+      power of conferring health and felicity, he begged she would undertake to
+      cure the royal stranger of his melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;I will use my utmost skill in his
+      recovery, provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth, ashamed to tell
+      that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first began to speak to
+      Pericles of the wayward changes in her own fate, telling him from what a
+      high estate herself had fallen. As if she had known it was her royal
+      father she stood before, all the words she spoke were of her own sorrows;
+      but her reason for so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the
+      attention of the unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to
+      match their own. The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince;
+      he lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless; and
+      Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to his amazed
+      sight the features of his dead queen. The long silent prince was once more
+      heard to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dearest wife,&rdquo; said the awakened Pericles, &ldquo;was like
+      this maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen&rsquo;s
+      square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as
+      silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like. Where do you live, young maid?
+      Report your parentage. I think you said you had been tossed from wrong to
+      injury, and that you thought your griefs would equal mine, if both were
+      opened.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some such thing I said,&rdquo; replied Marina, &ldquo;and said no
+      more than what my thoughts did warrant me as likely.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me your story,&rdquo; answered Pericles. &ldquo;If I find you
+      have known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your sorrows
+      like a man and I have suffered like a girl; yet you do look like Patience
+      gazing on kings&rsquo; graves and smiling extremely out of act. How lost
+      you your name, my most kind virgin? Recount your story, I beseech you.
+      Come, sit by me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for he knew
+      it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself for his own child
+      to signify SEA-BORN.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am mocked,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and you are sent hither by
+      some incensed god to make the world laugh at me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience, good sir,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;or I must cease
+      here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Na@,&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;I will be patient. You little
+      know how you do startle me, to call yourself Marina.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The name,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;was given me by one that had
+      some power, my father and a king.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, a king&rsquo;s daughter!&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;and
+      called Marina! But are you flesh and blood? Are you no fairy? Speak on.
+      Where were you born, and wherefore called Marina?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She replied: &ldquo;I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My
+      mother was the daughter of a king; she died the minute I was born, as my
+      good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping. The king, my father, left
+      me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon sought to murder me. A crew of
+      pirates came and rescued me and brought me here to Mitylene. But, good
+      sir, why do you weep? It may be you think me an impostor. But indeed, sir,
+      I am the daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and doubtful
+      if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants, who rejoiced at
+      the sound of their beloved king&rsquo;s voice; and he said to Helicanus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain,
+      lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores of my
+      mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,
+      and found at sea again. O Helicanus, down on your knees, thank the holy
+      gods! This is Marina. Now blessings on thee, my child! Give me fresh
+      garments, mine own Helicanus! She is not dead at Tarsus as she should have
+      been by the savage Dionysia. She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel
+      to her and call her your very Princess. Who is this?&rdquo; (observing
+      Lysimachus for the first time).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Helicanus, &ldquo;it is the governor of Mitylene,
+      who, hearing of your melancholy, came to see you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I embrace you, sir,&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;Give me my robes!
+      I am well with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl! But hark, what music is
+      that?&rdquo;&mdash;for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own
+      delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, I hear none,&rdquo; replied Helicanus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None?&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;Why, it is the music of the
+      spheres.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the sudden
+      joy had unsettled the prince&rsquo;s understanding, and he said, &ldquo;It
+      is not good to cross him; let him have his way.&rdquo; And then they told
+      him they heard the music; and he now complaining of a drowsy slumber
+      coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest on a couch, and, placing
+      a pillow under his head, he, quite overpowered with excess of joy, sank
+      into a sound sleep, and Marina watched in silence by the couch of her
+      sleeping parent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve to go to
+      Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the Ephesians, appeared
+      to him and commanded him to go to her temple at Ephesus, and there before
+      her altar to declare the story of his life and misfortunes; and by her
+      silver bow she swore that if he performed her injunction he should meet
+      with some rare felicity. When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he
+      told his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the
+      goddess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh himself with
+      such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene, which courteous offer
+      Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with him for the space of a day or
+      two. During which time we may well suppose what feastings, what
+      rejoicings, what costly shows and entertainments the governor made in
+      Mitylene to greet the royal father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure
+      fortunes he had so respected. Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus&rsquo;s
+      suit, when he understood how he had honored his child in the days of her
+      low estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his proposals;
+      only he made it a condition, before he gave his consent, that they should
+      visit with him the shrine of the Ephesian Diana; to whose temple they
+      shortly after all three undertook a voyage; and, the goddess herself
+      filling their sails with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived
+      in safety at Ephesus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles with his
+      train entered the temple, the good Cerimon (now grown very aged), who had
+      restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to life; and Thaisa, now a
+      priestess of the temple, was standing before the altar; and though the
+      many years he had passed in sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles,
+      Thaisa thought she knew her husband&rsquo;s features, and when he
+      approached the altar and began to speak, she remembered his voice, and
+      listened to his words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were
+      the words that Pericles spoke before the altar:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hail, Diana! to perform thy just commands I here confess myself the
+      Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis wedded the
+      fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought forth a maid-child
+      called Marina. She at Tarsus was nursed with Dionysia, who at fourteen
+      years thought to kill her, but her better stars brought her to Mitylene,
+      by whose shores as I sailed her good fortunes brought this maid on board,
+      where by her most clear remembrance she made herself known to be my
+      daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised in her,
+      cried out, &ldquo;You are, you are, O royal Pericles&rdquo; and fainted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What means this woman?&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;She dies!
+      Gentlemen, help.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Cerimon, &ldquo;if you have told Diana&rsquo;s
+      altar true, this is your wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reverend gentleman, no,&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;I threw her
+      overboard with these very arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this lady was
+      thrown upon the Ephesian shore; how, opening the coffin, he found therein
+      rich jewels and a paper; how, happily, he recovered her and placed her
+      here in Diana&rsquo;s temple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said: &ldquo;O my lord, are
+      you not Pericles? Like him you speak, like him you are. Did you not name a
+      tempest, a birth, and death?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He, astonished, said, &ldquo;The voice of dead Thaisa!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Thaisa am I,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;supposed dead and
+      drowned.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O true Diana!&rdquo; exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout
+      astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said Thaisa, &ldquo;I know you better. Such a ring
+      as I see on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears
+      parted from him at Pentapolis.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough, you gods!&rdquo; cried Pericles. &ldquo;Your present
+      kindness makes my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a
+      second time within these arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Marina said, &ldquo;My heart leaps to be gone into my mother&rsquo;s
+      bosom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying, &ldquo;Look who
+      kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and called Marina
+      because she was yielded there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blessed and my own!&rdquo; said Thaisa. And while she hung in
+      rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer
+      oblations nightly to thee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa, solemnly
+      affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the well-deserving
+      Lysimachus in marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous example
+      of virtue assailed by calamity (through the sufferance of Heaven, to teach
+      patience and constancy to men), under the same guidance becoming finally
+      successful and triumphing over chance and change. In Helicanus we have
+      beheld a notable pattern of truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he
+      might have succeeded to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful
+      owner to his possession than to become great by another&rsquo;s wrong. In
+      the worthy Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how
+      goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon mankind
+      approaches to the nature of the gods. It only remains to be told that
+      Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end proportionable to her
+      deserts. The inhabitants of Tarsus, when her cruel attempt upon Marina was
+      known, rising in a body to revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and
+      setting fire to the palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their
+      whole household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder,
+      though but intentional and never carried into act, should be punished in a
+      way befitting its enormity.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1286 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1286 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1286)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales From Shakespeare, by Charles Lamb and Mary Lamb
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Tales From Shakespeare
+
+Author: Charles Lamb and Mary Lamb
+
+Release Date: April, 1998 [eBook #1286]
+[Most recently updated: May 22, 2022]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Dianne Bean and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE ***
+
+
+
+
+TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE
+
+By Charles And Mary Lamb
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     PREFACE
+     THE TEMPEST
+     A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’s DREAM
+     THE WINTER’S TALE
+     MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+     AS YOU LIKE IT
+     THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+     THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+     CYMBELINE
+     KING LEAR
+     MACBETH
+     ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+     TAMING OF THE SHREW
+     COMEDY OF ERRORS
+     MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+     TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+     TIMON OF ATHENS
+     ROMEO AND JULIET
+     HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+     OTHELLO
+     PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader
+as an introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose
+his words are used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in;
+and in whatever has been added to give them the regular form of a
+connected story, diligent care has been taken to select such
+words as might least interrupt the effect of the beautiful
+English tongue in which he wrote: therefore, words introduced
+into our language since his time have been as far as possible
+avoided.
+
+In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the
+young readers will perceive, when they come to see the source
+from which these stories are derived, that Shakespeare’s own
+words, with little alteration, recur very frequently in the
+narrative as well as in the dialogue; but in those made from the
+Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever able to turn
+his words into the narrative form: therefore it is feared that,
+in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young
+people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this
+fault, if it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to
+give as much of Shakespeare’s own words as possible: and if the
+“He said” and “She said,” the question and the reply, should
+sometimes seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it,
+because it was the only way in which could be given to them a few
+hints and little foretastes of the great pleasure which awaits
+them in their elder years, when they come to the rich treasures
+from which these small and valueless coins are extracted;
+pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps
+of Shakespeare’s matchless image. Faint and imperfect images they
+must be called, because the beauty of his language is too
+frequently destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his
+excellent words into words far less expressive of his true sense,
+to make it read something like prose; and even in some few
+places, where his blank verse is given unaltered, as hoping from
+its simple plainness to cheat the young readers into the belief
+that they are reading prose, yet still his language being
+transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it
+must want much of its native beauty.
+
+It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very
+young children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have
+constantly kept this in mind; but the subjects of most of them
+made this a very difficult task. It was no easy matter to give
+the histories of men and women in terms familiar to the
+apprehension of a very young mind. For young ladies, too, it has
+been the intention chiefly to write; because boys being generally
+permitted the use of their fathers’ libraries at a much earlier
+age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of
+Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look
+into this manly book; and, therefore, instead of recommending
+these Tales to the perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them
+so much better in the originals, their kind assistance is rather
+requested in explaining to their sisters such parts as are
+hardest for them to understand: and when they have helped them to
+get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will read to them
+(carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister’s ear)
+some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in
+the very words of the scene from which it is taken; and it is
+hoped they will find that the beautiful extracts, the select
+passages, they may choose to give their sisters in this way will
+be much better relished and understood from their having some
+notion of the general story from one of these imperfect
+abridgments;--which if they be fortunately so done as to prove
+delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse
+effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little
+older, that they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length
+(such a wish will be neither peevish nor irrational). When time
+and leave of judicious friends shall put them into their hands,
+they will discover in such of them as are here abridged (not to
+mention almost as many more, which are left untouched) many
+surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their infinite
+variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a
+world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women,
+the humor of which it was feared would be lost if it were
+attempted to reduce the length of them.
+
+What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and
+much more it is the writers’ wish that the true Plays of
+Shakespeare may prove to them in older years--enrichers of the
+fancy, strengtheners of virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish
+and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of all sweet and honorable
+thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity, generosity,
+humanity: for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages are
+full.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEMPEST
+
+
+There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of
+which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter
+Miranda, a very beautiful young lady. She came to this island so
+young that she had no memory of having seen any other human face
+than her father’s.
+
+They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided
+into several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study;
+there he kept his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study
+at that time much affected by all learned men: and the knowledge
+of this art he found very useful to him; for being thrown by a
+strange chance upon this island, which had been enchanted by a
+witch called Sycorax, who died there a short time before his
+arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released many good
+spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large trees,
+because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These
+gentle spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero.
+Of these Ariel was the chief.
+
+The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his
+nature, except that he took rather too much pleasure in
+tormenting an ugly monster called Caliban, for be owed him a
+grudge because he was the son of his old enemy Sycorax. This
+Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a strange misshapen thing,
+far less human in form than an ape: he took him home to his cell,
+and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have been very kind
+to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from his
+mother, Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful:
+therefore he was employed like a slave, to fetch wood and do the
+most laborious offices; and Ariel had the charge of compelling
+him to these services.
+
+When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was
+invisible to all eyes but Prospero’s) would come slyly and pinch
+him, and sometimes tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel,
+in the likeness of an ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly
+changing his shape, in the likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie
+tumbling in Caliban’s way, who feared the hedgehog’s sharp quills
+would prick his bare feet. With a variety of such-like vexatious
+tricks Ariel would often torment him, whenever Caliban neglected
+the work which Prospero commanded him to do.
+
+Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero
+could by their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea.
+By his orders they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which,
+and struggling with the wild sea-waves that every
+moment,threatened to swallow it up, he showed his daughter a fine
+large ship, which he told her was full of living beings like
+themselves. “O my dear father,” said she, “if by your art you
+have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on their sad distress.
+See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls! they will
+all perish. If I had power I would sink the sea beneath the
+earth, rather than the good ship should be destroyed, with all
+the precious souls within her.”
+
+“Be not amazed, daughter Miranda,” said Prospero; “there. is no
+harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall
+receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my
+dear child. You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from,
+and you know no more of me, but that I am your father and live in
+this poor cave. Can you remember a time before you came to this
+cell? I think you cannot, for you were not then three years of
+age.”
+
+“Certainly I can, sir,” replied Miranda.
+
+“By what?” asked Prospero; “by any other house or person? Tell me
+what you can remember, my child.”
+
+Miranda said: “It seems to me like the recollection of a dream.
+But had I not once four or five women who attended upon me?”
+ Prospero answered: “You had, and more. How is it that this still
+lives in your mind? Do you remember how you came here?” “No,
+sir,” said Miranda, “I remember nothing more.”
+
+“Twelve years ago, Miranda,” continued Prospero, “I was Duke of
+Milan, and you were a princess, and my only heir. had a younger
+brother, whose name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything;
+and as I was fond of retirement and deep study I commonly left
+the management of my state affairs to your uncle, my false
+brother (for so indeed he proved). 1, neglecting all worldly
+ends, buried among my books, did dedicate whole time to the
+bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio, being thus in
+possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed.
+The opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my
+subjects awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive
+me of my dukedom; this he soon effected with the aid of the King
+of Naples, a powerful prince, who was my enemy.”
+
+“Wherefore,” said Miranda, “did they not that hour destroy us?”
+
+“My child,” answered her father, “they durst not, so dear was the
+love that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a ship,
+and when we were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a
+small boat, without either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left
+us, as he thought, to perish. But a kind lord of my court, one
+Gonzalo, who loved me, had privately placed in the boat water,
+provisions, apparel, and some books which I prize above my
+dukedom.”
+
+“O my father,” said Miranda, “what a trouble must I have been to
+you then!”
+
+“No, my love,”’ said Prospero, “you were a little cherub that did
+preserve me.Your innocent smiles made me bear up against my
+misfortunes. Our food lasted till we landed on this desert
+island, since when my chief delight has been in teaching you,
+Miranda, and well have you profited by my instructions.”
+
+“Heaven thank you, my dear father,” said Miranda. “Now pray tell
+me, sir, your reason for raising this sea-storm?”
+
+“Know then,” said her father, “"that by means of this storm, my
+enemies, the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast ashore
+upon this island.”
+
+Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his
+magic wand, and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just
+then presented himself before his master., to give an account of
+the tempest, and how he had disposed of the ship’s company, and
+though the spirits were always invisible to Miranda, Prospero did
+not choose she should hear him holding converse (as would seem to
+her) with the empty air.
+
+“Well, my brave spirit,” said Prospero to Ariel, “how have you
+performed your task?”
+
+Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors
+of the mariners, and how the king’s son, Ferdinand, was the first
+who leaped into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear
+son swallowed up by the waves and lost. “But he is safe,” said
+Ariel, “in a corner of the isle, sitting with his arms folded,
+sadly lamenting the loss of the king, his father, whom he
+concludes drowned. Not a hair of his head is injured, and his
+princely garments, though drenched in the sea-waves, look fresher
+than before.”
+
+“That’s my delicate Ariel,” said Prospero. “Bring him hither: my
+daughter must see this young prince. Where is the king, and my
+brother?”
+
+“I left them,” answered Ariel, “searching for Ferdinand, whom
+they have little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish.
+Of the ship’s crew not one is missing; though each one thinks
+himself the only one saved; and the ship, though invisible to
+them, is safe in the harbor.”
+
+“Ariel,” said Prospero, “thy charge is faithfully performed; but
+there is more work yet.”
+
+“Is there more work?” said Ariel. “Let me remind you, master, you
+have promised me my liberty. I pray, remember, , I have done you
+worthy service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you
+without grudge or grumbling.”
+
+“How now!” said Prospero. “You do not recollect what a torment I
+freed you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who
+with age and envy was almost bent double? Where was she born?
+Speak; tell me.”
+
+“Sir, in Algiers,” said Ariel.
+
+“Oh, was she so?” said Prospero. “I must recount what you have
+been, which I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax,
+for her witchcrafts, too terrible to enter human hearing, was
+banished from Algiers, and here left by the sailors-; and because
+you were a spirit too delicate to execute her wicked commands,
+she shut you up in a tree, where I found you howling. This
+torment, remember, I did free you from.”
+
+“Pardon me, dear master,” said Ariel, ashamed to seem ungrateful;
+“I will obey your commands.”
+
+“Do so,” said Prospero, “and I will set you free.” He then gave
+orders what further he would have him do; and away went Ariel,
+first to where he had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting
+on the grass in the same melancholy posture.
+
+“Oh, my young gentleman,” said Ariel, when he saw him, ‘I will
+soon move you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda
+to have a sight of your pretty person. Come. sir,, follow me.” He
+then began singing:
+
+  “Full fathom five thy father lies;
+      Of his bones are coral made;
+  Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+      Nothing of him that doth fade,
+  But doth suffer a sea-change
+  Into something rich and strange.
+  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
+  Hark! now I hear them--Ding-dong, bell.”
+
+This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from
+the stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement
+the sound of Ariel’s voice, till it led him to Prospero and
+Miranda, who were sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now
+Miranda had never seen a man before, except her own father.
+
+“Miranda,” said Prospero, “tell me what you are looking at
+yonder.”
+
+“Oh, father,” said Miranda, in a strange surprise, “surely that
+is a spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a
+beautiful creature. Is it not a spirit?”
+
+“No, girl,” answered her father; “it eats, and sleeps, and has
+senses such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship.
+He is somewhat altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome
+person. He has lost his companions, and is wandering about to
+find them.”
+
+Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like
+her father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful
+young prince; and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this
+desert place, and from the strange sounds he had heard, expecting
+nothing but wonders, thought be was upon an enchanted island, and
+that Miranda was the goddess of the place, and as such he began
+to address her.
+
+She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid and
+was going to give him an account of herself, when Prospero
+interrupted her. He was well pleased to find they admired each
+other, for he plainly perceived they had (as we say) fallen in
+love at first sight: but to try Ferdinand’s constancy, he
+resolved to throw some difficulties in their way: therefore,
+advancing forward, be addressed the prince with a stern air,
+telling him, he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him
+who was the lord of it. “Follow me,” said be. “I will tie your
+neck and feet together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish,
+withered roots, and husks of acorns shall be your food.”
+
+“No,” said Ferdinand, “I will resist such entertainment till I
+see a more powerful enemy,” and drew his sword; but Prospero,
+waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where he stood, so
+that he had no power to move.
+
+Miranda hung upon her father, saying: “Why are you so ungentle?
+Have pity, I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever
+saw, and to me he seems a true one.”
+
+“Silence!” said the father. “One word more will make me chide
+you, girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are
+no more such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell
+you, foolish girl, most men as far excel this as he does
+Calliban.” This he said to prove his daughter’s constancy; and
+she replied:
+
+“My affections are most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier
+man.”
+
+“Come on, young man,” said Prospero to the prince; “you have no
+power to disobey -me.”
+
+“I have not indeed,” answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that it was by
+magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was astonished to
+kind himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero: looking back on
+Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went after Prospero
+into the cave: “My spirits are all bound up as if I were in a dream; but
+this man’s threats, and the weakness which I feel, would seem light to
+me if from my prison I might once a day behold this fair maid.”
+
+Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell: he soon
+brought out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking
+care to let his daughter know the hard labour he had imposed on him, and
+then pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both.
+
+Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood.
+Kings’ sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after
+found her lover almost dying with fatigue. “Alas!” said she, “do not
+work so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three
+hours; pray rest yourself.”
+
+“O my dear lady,” said Ferdinand, “I dare not. I must finish my task
+before I take my rest.”
+
+“If you will sit down,” said Miranda, “I will carry your logs the
+while.” But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to. Instead of a help
+Miranda became a hindrance, for they began a long conversation, so that
+the business of log-carrying went on very slowly.
+
+Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his
+love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing
+by them invisible, to overhear what they said.
+
+Ferdinand inquired her name, which she told, saying it was against her
+father’s express command she did so.
+
+Prospero only smiled at this first instance of his daughter’s
+disobedience, for having by his magic art caused his daughter to fall in
+love so suddenly, he was not angry that she showed her love by
+forgetting to obey his commands. And he listened well pleased to a long
+speech of Ferdinand’s, in which he professed to love her above all the
+ladies he ever saw.
+
+In answer to his praises of her beauty, which he said exceeded all the
+women in the world, she replied: “I do not remember the face of any
+woman, nor have I seen any more men than you, my good friend, and my
+dear father. How features are abroad, I know not: but, believe me, sir,
+I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can my
+imagination form any shape but yours that I could like. But, sir, I fear
+I talk to you too freely, and my father’s precepts I forget.”
+
+At this Prospero smiled, and nodded his head, as much as to say: “This
+goes on exactly as I could wish; my girl will be queen of Naples.”
+
+And then Ferdinand, in another fine long speech (for young princes speak
+in courtly phrases), told the innocent Miranda he was heir to the crown
+of Naples, and that she should be his queen.
+
+“Ah! sir,” said she, “I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of. I will
+answer you in plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if you will marry
+me.”
+
+Prospero prevented Ferdinand’s thanks by appearing visible before them.
+
+“Fear nothing, my child,” said he; “I have overheard, and approve of all
+you have said. And, Ferdinand, if I have too severely used you, I will
+make you rich amends, by giving you my daughter. All your vexations were
+but trials of your love, and you have nobly stood the test. Then as my
+gift, which your true love has worthily purchased, take my daughter, and
+do not smile that I boast she is above all praise.” He then, telling
+them that he had business which required his presence, desired they
+would sit down and talk together till he returned; and this command
+Miranda seemed not at all disposed to disobey.
+
+When Prospero left them, he called his spirit Ariel, who quickly
+appeared before him, eager to relate what he had done with Prospero’s
+brother and the king of Naples. Ariel said he had left them almost out
+of their senses with fear, at the strange things he had caused them to
+see and hear. When fatigued with wandering about, and famished for want
+of food, he had suddenly set before them a delicious banquet, and then,
+just as,they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the
+shape of a harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast vanished
+away. Then, to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy spoke to them,
+reminding them of their cruelty in driving Prospero from his dukedom,
+and leaving him and his infant daughter to perish in the sea, saying,
+that for this cause these terrors were suffered to afflict them.
+
+The King of Naples, and Antonio the false brother, repented the
+injustice they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he
+was certain their penitence was sincere, and that he, though a
+spirit, could not but pity them.
+
+“Then bring them hither, Ariel,” said Prospero: “if you, who are
+but a spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a
+human being like themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them
+quickly, my dainty Ariel.”
+
+Ariel soon returned with the king, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in
+their train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he
+played in the air to draw them on to his master’s presence. This
+Gonzalo was the same who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly
+with books and provisions, when his wicked brother left him, as
+he thought, to perish in an open boat in the sea.
+
+Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses that they did not
+know Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old
+Gonzalo, calling him the preserver of his life; and then his
+brother and the king knew that he was the injured Prospero.
+
+Antonio, with tears and sad words of sorrow and true repentance,
+implored his brother’s forgiveness, and the king expressed his
+sincere remorse for having assisted Antonio to depose his
+brother: and Prospero forgave them; and, upon their engaging to
+restore his dukedom, he said to the King of Naples, “I have a
+gift in store for you, too”; and, opening a door, showed him his
+son Ferdinand playing at chess with Miranda.
+
+Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this
+unexpected meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in
+the storm.
+
+“Oh wonder!” said Miranda, “what noble creatures these are! It
+must surely be a brave world that has such people in it.”
+
+The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty
+and excellent graces of the young Miranda as his son had been.
+“Who is this maid?” said he; “she seems the goddess that has
+parted us, and brought us thus together.”
+
+“No, sir,” answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his father had
+fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first saw
+Miranda, “she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is
+mine; I chose her when I could not ask you, my father, for your
+consent, not thinking you were alive. She is the daughter this
+Prospero, who is the famous Duke of Milan, of whose renown I have
+heard so much, but never saw him till now: of him I have received
+a new life: he has made himself to me a second father, giving me
+this dear lady.”
+
+“Then I must be her father,” said the king; “but, oh, how oddly
+will it sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness.”
+
+“No more of that,” said Prospero: “let us not remember our
+troubles past, since they so happily have ended.” And then
+Prospero embraced his brother, and again assured him of his
+forgiveness; and said that a wise overruling Providence had
+permitted that he should be driven from his poor dukedom of
+Milan, that his daughter might inherit the crown of Naples, for
+that by their meeting in this desert island it had happened that
+the king’s son had loved Miranda.
+
+These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his
+brother, so filled Antonio with shame and remorse that be wept
+and was unable to speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see
+this joyful reconciliation, and prayed for blessings on the young
+couple.
+
+Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor,
+and the sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter
+would accompany them home the next morning. “In the mean time,”
+ says he, “partake of such refreshments as my poor cave affords;
+and for your evening’s entertainment I will relate the history of
+my life from my first landing in this desert island.” He then
+called for Caliban to prepare some food, and set the cave in
+order; and the company were astonished at the uncouth form and
+savage appearance of this ugly monster, who (Prospero said) was
+the only attendant he had to wait upon him.
+
+Before Prospero left the island he dismissed Ariel from service,
+to the great joy of that lively little spirit, who, though he had
+been a faithful servant to his master, was always longing to
+enjoy his free liberty, to wander uncontrolled in the air, like a
+wild bird, under green trees, among pleasant fruits, and
+sweet-smelling flowers.
+
+“My quaint Ariel,” said Prospero to the little sprite when he
+made him free, “I shall miss you; yet you shall have your
+freedom.”
+
+“Thank you, my dear master,” said Ariel; “but give me leave to
+attend your ship home with prosperous gales, before you bid
+farewell to the assistance of your faithful spirit; and then,
+master, when I am free, how merrily I shall live!” Here Ariel
+sang this pretty song:
+
+  “Where the bee sucks, there suck !;
+  In a cowslip’s bell I lie:
+  There I crouch when owls do cry.
+  On the bat’s back I do fly
+  After summer merrily.
+  Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+  Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.”
+
+Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and
+wand, for he was resolved never more to make use of the magic
+art. And having thus overcome his enemies, and being reconciled
+to his brother and the King of Naples, nothing now remained to
+complete his happiness but to revisit his native land, to take
+possession of his dukedom, and to witness the happy nuptials of
+his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the king said should be
+instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to
+Naples. At which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel
+they, after a pleasant voyage, soon arrived.
+
+
+
+
+A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM
+
+
+There was a law in the city of Athens  which gave to its citizens
+the power of  compelling their daughters to marry whomsoever they
+pleased; for upon a daughter’s refusing to marry the man her
+father had chosen to be her husband, the father was empowered by
+this law to cause her to be put to death; but as fathers do not
+often desire the death of their own daughters, even though they
+do happen to prove a little refractory, this law was seldom or
+never put in execution, though perhaps the young ladies of that
+city were not unfrequently threatened by their parents with the
+terrors of it.
+
+There was one instance, however, of an old man, whose name was
+Egeus, who actually did come before Theseus (at that time the
+reigning Duke of Athens), to complain that his daughter whom he
+had commanded to marry Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian
+family, refused to obey him, because she loved another young
+Athenian, named Lysander. Egeus demanded justice of Theseus, and
+desired that this cruel law might be put in force against his
+daughter.
+
+Hermia pleaded in excuse for her disobedience that Demetrius had
+formerly professed love for her dear friend Helena, and that
+Helena loved Demetrius to distraction; but this honorable reason,
+which Hermia gave for not obeying her father’s command, moved not
+the stern Egeus.
+
+Theseus, though a great and merciful prince, had no power to
+alter the laws of his country; therefore he could only give
+Hermia four days to consider of it: and at the end of that time,
+if she still refused to marry Demetrius, she was to be put to
+death.
+
+When Hermia was dismissed from the presence of the duke, she went
+to her lover Lysander and told him the peril she was in, and that
+she must either give him up and marry Demetrius or lose her life
+in four days.
+
+Lysander was in great affliction at hearing these evil tidings;
+but, recollecting that be had an aunt who lived at some distance
+from Athens, and that at the place where she lived the cruel law
+could not be put in force against Hermia (this law not extending
+beyond the boundaries of the city), he proposed to Hermia that
+she should steal out of her father’s house that night, and go
+with him to his aunt’s house, where he would marry her. “I will
+meet you,” said Lysander, “in the wood a few miles without the
+city; in that delightful wood where we have so often walked with
+Helena in the pleasant month of May.”
+
+To this proposal Hermia joyfully agreed; and she told no one of
+her intended flight but her friend Helena. Helena (as maidens
+will do foolish things for love) very ungenerously resolved to go
+and tell this to Demetrius, though she could hope no benefit from
+betraying her friend’s secret but the poor pleasure of following
+her faithless lover to the wood; for she well knew that Demetrius
+would go thither in pursuit of Hermia.
+
+The wood in which Lysander and Hermia proposed to meet was the
+favorite haunt of those little beings known by the name of
+“fairies.”
+
+Oberon the king, and Titania the queen of the fairies, with all
+their tiny train of followers, in this wood held their midnight
+revels.
+
+Between this little king and queen of sprites there happened, at
+this time, a sad disagreement; they never met by moonlight in the
+shady walk of this pleasant wood but they were quarreling, till
+all their fairy elves would creep into acorn-cups and hide
+themselves for fear.
+
+The cause of this unhappy disagreement was Titania’s refusing
+give Oberon a little changeling boy, whose mother had been
+Titania’s friend; and upon her death the fairy queen stole the
+child from its nurse and brought him up in the woods.
+
+The night on which the lovers were to meet in this wood, as
+Titania was walking with some of her maids of honor, she met
+Oberon attended by his train of fairy courtiers.
+
+“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,” said the fairy king.
+
+The queen replied: “What, jealous Oberon, is it you? Fairies,
+skip hence; I have forsworn his company.”
+
+“Tarry, rash fairy,” said Oberon. “Am I not thy lord? Why does
+Titania cross her Oberon? Give me your little changeling boy to
+be my page.”
+
+“Set your heart at rest,” answered the queen; “your whole fairy
+kingdom buys not the boy of me.” She then left her lord in great
+anger.
+
+“Well, go your way,” said Oberon; “before the morning dawns I
+will torment you for this injury.”
+
+Oberon then sent for Puck, his chief favorite and privy
+counselor.
+
+Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow) was a
+shrewd and knavish sprite, that used to play comical pranks in
+the neighboring villages; sometimes getting into the dairies and
+skimming the milk, sometimes plunging his light and airy form
+into the butter-churn, and while he was dancing his fantastic
+shape in the churn, in vain the dairymaid would labor to change
+her cream into butter. Nor had the village swains any better
+success; whenever Puck chose to play his freaks in the brewing
+copper, the ale was sure to be spoiled. When a few good neighbors
+were met to drink some comfortable ale together, Puck would jump
+into the bowl of ale in the likeness of a roasted crab, and when
+some old goody was going to drink he would bob against her lips,
+and spill the ale over her withered chin; and presently after,
+when the same old dame was gravely seating herself to tell her
+neighbors a sad and melancholy story, Puck would slip her
+three-legged stool from under her, and down toppled the poor old
+woman, and then the old gossips would hold their sides and laugh
+at her, and swear they never wasted a merrier hour.
+
+“Come hither, Puck,” said Oberon to this little merry wanderer of
+the night; “fetch me the flower which maids call ‘Love in,
+Idleness’; the juice of that little purple flower laid on the
+eyelids of those who sleep will make them, when they awake, dote
+on the first thing they see. Some of the juice of that flower I
+will drop on the eyelids of my Titania when she is asleep; and
+the first thing she looks upon when she opens her eyes she will
+fall in love with, even though it be a lion or a bear, a meddling
+monkey or a busy ape; and before I will take this charm from off
+her sight, which I can do with another charm I know of, I will
+make her give me that boy to be my page.”
+
+Puck, who loved mischief to his heart, was highly diverted with
+this intended frolic of his master, and ran to seek the flower;
+and while Oberon was waiting the return of Puck he observed
+Demetrius and Helena enter the wood: he overheard Demetrius
+reproaching Helena for following him, and after many unkind words
+on his part, and gentle expostulations from Helena, reminding him
+of his former love and professions of true faith to her, he left
+her (as he said) to the mercy of the wild beasts, and she ran
+after him as swiftly as she could.
+
+The fairy king, who was always friendly to true lovers, felt
+great compassion for Helena; and perhaps, as Lysander said they
+used to walk by moonlight in this pleasant wood, Oberon might
+have seen Helena in those happy times when she was beloved by
+Demetrius. However that might be, when Puck returned with the
+little purple flower, Oberon said to his favorite: “Take a part
+of this flower; there has been a sweet Athenian lady here, who is
+in love with a disdainful youth; if you find him sleeping, drop
+some of the love-juice in his eyes, but contrive to do it when
+she is near him, that the first thing he sees when he awakes may
+be this despised lady. You will know the man ]by the Athenian
+garments which be wears.”
+
+Puck promised to manage this matter very dexterously: and then
+Oberon went, unperceived by Titania, to her bower, where she was
+preparing to go to rest. Her fairy bower was a bank, where grew
+wild thyme, cowslips, and sweet violets, under a canopy of
+woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine. There Titania always slept
+some part of the night; her coverlet the enameled skin of a
+snake, which, though a small mantle, was wide enough to wrap a
+fairy in.
+
+He found Titania giving orders to her fairies, how they were to
+employ themselves while she slept. “Some of you,” said her
+Majesty, “must kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, and some wage
+war with the bats for their leathern wings, to make my small
+elves coats; and some of you keep watch that the clamorous owl,
+that nightly boots, come not near me: but first sing me to
+sleep.” Then they began to sing this song:
+
+  “You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
+    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+  Newts and blind-worms do no wrong;
+    Come not near our fairy queen:
+
+  “Philomel, with melody,
+  Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+  Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
+  Come our lovely lady nigh;
+  So, good night, with lullaby.”
+
+When the fairies had sung their queen asleep with this pretty
+lullaby, they left her to perform the important services she had
+enjoined them. Oberon then softly drew near his Titania and
+dropped some of the love-juice on her eyelids, saying:
+
+  “What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+   Do it for thy true-love take.”
+
+But to return to Hermia, who made her escape out of her father’s
+house that night, to avoid the death she was doomed to for
+refusing to marry Demetrius. When she entered the wood, she found
+her dear Lysander waiting for her, to conduct her to his aunt’s
+house; but before they had passed half through the wood Hermia
+was so much fatigued that Lysander, who was very careful of this
+dear lady, who had proved her affection for him even by hazarding
+her life for his sake, persuaded her to rest till morning on a
+bank of soft moss, and, lying down himself on the ground at some
+little distance, they soon fell fast asleep. Here they were found
+by Puck, who, seeing a handsome young man asleep, and perceiving
+that his clothes were made in the Athenian fashion, and that a
+pretty lady was sleeping near him, concluded that this must be
+the Athenian maid and her disdainful lover whom Oberon had sent
+him to seek; and he naturally enough conjectured that, as they
+were alone together, she must be the first thing he would see
+when he awoke; so, without more ado, he proceeded to pour some of
+the juice of the little purple flower into his eyes. But it so
+fell out that Helena came that way, and, instead of Hermia, was
+the first object Lysander beheld when he opened his eyes; and
+strange to relate, so powerful was the love-charm, all his love
+for Hermia vanished away and Lysander fell in love with Helena.
+
+Had he first seen Hermia when he awoke, the blunder Puck
+committed would have been of no consequence, for he could not
+love that faithful lady too well; but for poor Lysander to be
+forced by a fairy love-charm to forget his own true Hernia, and
+to run after another lady, and leave Hermia asleep quite alone in
+a wood at midnight, was a sad chance indeed.
+
+Thus this misfortune happened. Helena, as has been before
+related, endeavored to keep pace with Demetrius when he ran away
+so rudely from her; but she could not continue this unequal race
+long, men being always better runners in a long race than ladies.
+Helena soon lost sight of Demetrius; and as she was wandering
+about, dejected and forlorn, she arrived at the place where
+Lysander was sleeping. “Ah!” said she, “this is Lysander lying on
+the ground. Is he dead or asleep?” Then, gently touching him, she
+said, “Good sir, if you are alive, awake.” Upon this Lysander
+opened his eyes, and, the love-charm beginning to work,
+immediately addressed her in terms of extravagant love and
+admiration, telling her she as much excelled Hermia in beauty as
+a dove does a raven, and that be would run through fire for her
+sweet sake; and many more such lover-like speeches. Helena,
+knowing Lysander was her friend Hermia’s lover, and that he was
+solemnly engaged to marry her, was in the utmost rage when she
+heard herself addressed in this manner; for she thought (as well
+she might) that Lysander was making a jest of her. “Oh!” said
+she, “why was I born to be mocked and scorned by every one? Is it
+not enough, is it not enough, young man, that I can never get a
+sweet look or a kind word from Demetrius; but you, sir, must
+pretend in this disdainful manner to court me? I thought,
+Lysander, you were a lord of more true gentleness.” Saying these
+words in great anger, she ran away; and Lysander followed her,
+quite forgetful of his own Hermia, who was still asleep.
+
+When Hermia awoke she was in a sad fright at finding herself
+alone. She wandered about the wood, not knowing what was become
+of Lysander, or which way to go to seek for him. In the mean time
+Demetrius, not being able to find Hermia and his rival Lysander,
+and fatigued with his fruitless search, was observed by Oberon
+fast asleep. Oberon had learned by some questions he had asked of
+Puck that he had applied the lovecharm to the wrong person’s
+eyes; and now, having found the person first intended, he touched
+the eyelids of the sleeping Demetrius with the love-juice, and he
+instantly awoke; and the first thing he saw being Helena, he, as
+Lysander had done before, began to address love-speeches to her;
+and just at that moment Lysander, followed by Hermia (for through
+Puck’s unlucky mistake it was now become Hermia’s turn to run
+after her lover), made his appearance; and then Lysander and
+Demetrius, both speaking together, made love to Helena, they
+being each one under the influence of the same potent charm.
+
+The astonished Helena thought that Demetrius, Lysander, and her
+once dear friend Hermia were all in a plot together to make a
+jest of her.
+
+Hermia was as much surprised as Helena; she knew not why Lysander
+and Demetrius, who both before loved her, were now become the
+lovers of Helena, and to Hermia the matter seemed to be no jest.
+
+The ladies, who before bad always been the dearest of friends,
+now fell to high words together.
+
+“Unkind. Hermia,” said Helena, “it is you have set Lysander on
+to vex me with mock praises; and your other lover, Demetrius, who
+used almost to spurn me with his foot, have you not bid him call
+me goddess, nymph, rare, precious, and celestial? He would not
+speak thus to me, whom he hates, if you did not set him on to
+make a jest of me. Unkind Hermia, to join with men in scorning
+your poor friend. Have you forgot our schoolday friendship? How
+often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one cushion, both singing
+one song, with our needles working the same flower, both on the
+same sampler wrought; growing up together in fashion of a double
+cherry, scarcely seeming parted!  Hermia, it is not friendly in
+you, it is not maidenly to join with men in scorning your poor
+friend.”
+
+“I am amazed at your passionate words,” said Hermia: “I scorn you
+not; it seems you scorn me.”
+
+“Aye, do,” returned Helena, “persevere, counterfeit serious
+looks, and make mouths at me when I turn my back; then wink at
+each other, and hold the sweet jest up. If you had any pity,
+grace, or manners, you would not use me thus.”
+
+While Helena and Hermia were speaking these angry words to each
+other, Demetrius and Lysander left them, to fight together in the
+wood for the love of Helena.
+
+When they found the gentlemen had left them, they departed, and
+once more wandered weary in the wood in search of their lovers.
+
+As soon as they were gone the fairy king, who with little Puck
+had been listening to their quarrels, said to him, “This is your
+negligence, Puck; or did you do this wilfully?”
+
+“Believe me, king of shadows,” answered Puck, “it was a mistake.
+Did not you tell me I should know the man by his Athenian
+garments? However, I am not sorry this has happened, for I think
+their jangling makes excellent sport.”
+
+“You heard,” said Oberon, “that Demetrius and Lysander are gone
+to seek a convenient place to fight in. I command you to overhang
+the night with a thick fog, and lead these quarrelsome lovers so
+astray in’ the dark that they shall not be able to find each
+other. Counterfeit each of their voices to the other, and with
+bitter taunts provoke them to follow you, while they think it is
+their rival’s tongue they hear. See you do this, till they are so
+weary they can go no farther; and when you find they are asleep,
+drop the juice of this other flower into Lysander’s eyes, and
+when he awakes he will forget his new love for Helena, and return
+to his old passion for Hermia; and then the two fair ladies may
+each one be happy with the man she loves and they will think all
+that has passed a vexatious dream. About this quickly, Puck, and
+I will go and see what sweet love my Titania has found.”
+
+Titania was still sleeping, and Oberon, seeing a clown near her
+who had lost his way in the wood and was likewise asleep, “This
+fellow,” said he, “shall be my Titania’s true love”; and clapping
+an ass’s head over the clown’s, it seemed to fit him as well as
+if it had grown upon his own shoulders. Though Oberon fixed the
+ass’s head on very gently, it awakened him, and, rising up,
+unconscious of what Oberon had done to him, he went toward the
+bower where the fairy queen slept.
+
+“Ah I what angel is that I see?” said Titania, opening her eyes,
+and the juice of the little purple flower beginning to take
+effect. “Are you as wise as you are beautiful?”
+
+“Why, mistress,” said the foolish clown, “if I have wit enough to
+find the way out of this wood, I have enough to serve my turn.”
+
+“Out of the wood do not desire to go,” said the enamoured queen.
+“I am a spirit of no common rate. I love you. Go with me, and I
+will give you fairies to attend upon you.”
+
+She then called four of her fairies. Their names were
+Peas-blossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed.
+
+“Attend,” said the queen, “upon this sweet gentleman. Hop in his
+walks and gambol in his sight; feed him with grapes and apricots,
+and steal for him the honey-bags from the bees. Come, sit with
+me,” said she to the clown., “and let me play with your amiable
+hairy cheeks, my beautiful ass! and kiss your fair large ears, my
+gentle joy.”
+
+“Where is Peas-blossom?” said the ass-headed clown, not much
+regarding the fairy queen’s courtship, but very proud of his new
+attendants.
+
+“Here, sir,” said little Peas-blossom.
+
+“Scratch my head,” said the clown. “Where is Cobweb?”
+
+“Here, sir,” said Cobweb.
+
+“Good Mr. Cobweb,” said the foolish clown, “kill me the red
+humblebee on the top of that thistle yonder; and, good Mr.
+Cobweb, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in
+the action, Mr. Cobweb, and take care the honey-bag break not; I
+should be sorry to have you overflown with a honey-bag. Where is
+Mustard-seed?”
+
+“Here, sir, “ said Mustard-seed. “What is your will?”
+
+“Nothing,” said the clown, “good Mr. Mustard-seed, but to help
+Mr. Peas-blossom to scratch; I must go to a barber’s, Mr.
+Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.”
+
+“My sweet love,” said the queen, “what will you have to eat? I
+have a venturous fairy shall seek the squirrel’s hoard, and fetch
+you some new nuts.”
+
+“I had rather have a handful of dried peas,”’ said the clown, who
+with his ass’s head had got an ass’s appetite. “But, I pray, let
+none of your people disturb me, for I have a mind to sleep.”
+
+“Sleep, then,” said the queen, “and I will wind you in my arms.
+Oh, how I love you! how I dote upon you!”
+
+When the fairy king saw the clown sleeping in the arms of his
+queen, he advanced within her sight, and reproached her with
+having lavished her favors upon an ass.
+
+This she could not deny, as the clown was then sleeping within
+her arms, with his ass’s head crowned by her with flowers.
+
+When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again demanded the
+changeling boy; which she, ashamed of being discovered by her
+lord with her new favorite, did not dare to refuse him.
+
+Oberon, having thus obtained the little boy he had so long wished
+for to be his page, took pity on the disgraceful situation into
+which, by his merry contrivance, he had brought his Titania, and
+threw some of the juice of the other flower into her eyes; and
+the fairy queen immediately recovered her senses, and wondered at
+her late dotage, saying how she now loathed the sight of the
+strange monster.
+
+Oberon likewise took the ass’s head from off the clown, and left
+him to finish his nap with his own fool’s head upon his
+shoulders.
+
+Oberon and his Titania being now perfectly reconciled, he related
+to her the history of the lovers and their midnight quarrels, and
+she agreed to go with him and see the end of their adventures.
+
+The fairy king and queen found the lovers and their fair ladies,
+at no great distance from one another, sleeping on a grass-plot;
+for Puck, to make amends for his former mistake, had contrived
+with the utmost diligence to bring them all to the same spot,
+unknown to one another; and he bad carefully removed the charm
+from off the eyes of Lysander with the antidote the fairy king
+gave to him.
+
+Hermia first awoke, and, finding her lost Lysander asleep so near
+her, was looking at him and wondering at his strange inconstancy.
+Lysander presently opening his eyes, and seeing his dear Hermia,
+recovered his reason which the fairy charm had before clouded,
+and with his reason his love for Hermia; and they began to talk
+over the adventures of the night, doubting if these things had
+really happened, or if they bad both been dreaming the same
+bewildering dream.
+
+Helena and Demetrius were by this time awake; and a sweet sleep
+having quieted Helena’s disturbed and angry spirits, she listened
+with delight to the professions of love which Demetrius still
+made to her, and which, to her surprise as well as pleasure, she
+began to perceive were sincere.
+
+These fair night-wandering ladies, now no longer rivals, became
+once more true friends; all the unkind words which had passed
+were forgiven, and they calmly consulted together what was best
+to be done in their present situation. It was soon agreed that,
+as Demetrius bad given up his pretensions to Hermia, he should
+endeavor to prevail upon her father to revoke the cruel sentence
+of death which had been passed against her. Demetrius was
+preparing to return to Athens for this friendly purpose, when
+they were surprised with the sight of Egeus, Hermia’s father, who
+came to the wood in pursuit of his runaway daughter.
+
+When Egeus understood that Demetrius would not now marry his
+daughter, he no longer opposed her marriage with Lysander,  but
+gave his consent that they should be wedded on the fourth day
+from that time, being the same day on which Hermia had been
+condemned to lose her life; and on that same day Helena joyfully
+agreed to marry her beloved and now faithful Demetrius.
+
+The fairy king and queen, who were invisible spectators of this
+reconciliation, and now saw the happy ending of the lovers’
+history, brought about through the good offices of Oberon,
+received so much pleasure that these kind spirits resolved to
+celebrate the approaching nuptials with sports and revels
+throughout their fairy kingdom.
+
+And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their
+pranks, as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to
+think that they have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these
+adventures were visions which they saw in their sleep. And I hope
+none of my readers will be so unreasonable as to be offended with
+a pretty, harmless Midsummer Night’s Dream.
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER’S TALE
+
+
+Leontes, King of Sicily, and his queen,  the beautiful and
+virtuous Hermione,  once lived in the greatest harmony together.
+So happy was Leontes in the  love of this excellent lady that he
+had  no wish ungratified, except that he some times desired to
+see again and to present  to his queen his old companion and
+schoolfellow, Polixenes, King of Bohemia. Leontes and Polixenes
+were brought up together from their infancy, but being, by the
+death of their fathers, called to reign over their respective
+kingdoms, they had not met for many years, though they frequently
+interchanged gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
+
+At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came from
+Bohemia to the Sicilian court, to make his friend Leontes a
+visit.
+
+At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to Leontes. He
+recommended the friend of his youth to the queen’s particular
+attention, and seemed in the presence of his dear friend and old
+companion to have his felicity quite completed. They talked over
+old times; their school-days and their youthful pranks were
+remembered, and recounted to Hermione, who always took a cheerful
+part in these conversations.
+
+When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart,
+Hermione, at the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to
+his that Polixenes would prolong his visit.
+
+And now began this good queen’s sorrow; for Polixenes, refusing
+to stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione’s
+gentle and persuasive words to put off his departure for some
+weeks longer. Upon this, although Leontes had so long known the
+integrity and honorable principles of his friend Polixenes, as
+well as the excellent disposition of his virtuous queen, he was
+seized with an ungovernable jealousy. Every attention Hermione
+showed to Polixenes, though by her husband’s particular desire
+and merely to please him, increased the unfortunate king’s
+jealousy; and from being a loving and a true friend, and the best
+and fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage and
+inhuman monster. Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his
+court, and telling him of the suspicion he entertained, he
+commanded him to poison Polixenes.
+
+Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that the jealousy of
+Leontes had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of
+poisoning Polixenes, acquainted him with the king his master’s
+orders, and agreed to escape with him out of the Sicilian
+dominions; and Polixenes, with the assistance of Camillo,
+arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia, where Camillo lived
+from that time in the king’s court and became the chief friend
+and favorite of Polixenes.
+
+The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more;
+he went to the queen’s apartment, where the good lady was sitting
+with her little son Mamillius, who was just beginning to tell one
+of his best stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered
+and, taking the child away, sent Hermione to prison.
+
+Mamillius, though but a very young child, loved his mother
+tenderly; and when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was
+taken from him to be put into a prison, he took it deeply to
+heart and drooped and pined away by slow degrees, losing his
+appetite and his sleep, till it was thought his grief would kill
+him.
+
+The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded
+Cleomenes and Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there
+to inquire of the oracle at the temple of Apollo if his queen had
+been unfaithful to him.
+
+When Hermione had been a short time in prison she was brought to
+bed of a daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from
+the sight of her pretty baby, and she said to it, “My poor little
+prisoner, I am as innocent as you are.”
+
+Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited Paulina, who was
+the wife of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the lady Paulina
+heard her royal mistress was brought to bed she went to the
+prison where Hermione was confined; and she said to Emilia, a
+lady who attended upon Hermione, “I pray you, Emilia, tell the
+good queen, if her Majesty dare trust me with her little babe, I
+will carry it to the king, its father: we do not know how he may
+soften at the sight of his innocent child.”
+
+“Most worthy madam,” replied Emilia, “I will acquaint the queen
+with your noble offer. She was wishing to-day that she had any
+friend who would venture to present the child to the king.”
+
+“And tell her,” said Paulina. “that I will speak boldly to
+Leontes in her defense.”
+
+“May you be forever blessed,” said Emilia, “for your kindness to
+our gracious queen!”
+
+Emilia then went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to
+the care of Paulina, for she had feared that no one would dare
+venture to present the child to its father.
+
+Paulina took the new-born infant and, forcing herself into the
+king’s presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king’s
+anger, endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its
+father’s feet; and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in
+defense of Hermione, and she reproached him severely for his
+inhumanity and implored him to have mercy on his innocent wife
+and child. But Paulina’s spirited remonstrances only aggravated
+Leontes’s displeasure, and he ordered her husband Antigonus to
+take her from his presence.
+
+When Paulina went away she left the little baby at its father’s
+feet, thinking when he was alone with it he would look upon it
+and have pity on its helpless innocence.
+
+The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was she gone than
+the merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina’s husband,
+to take the child and carry it out to sea and leave it upon some
+desert shore to perish.
+
+Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of
+Leontes; for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and
+put out to sea, intending to leave it on the first desert coast
+he could find.
+
+So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of Hermione that he
+would not wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion; whom he had
+sent to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the
+queen was recovered from her lying-in, and from the grief for the
+loss of her precious baby, he had her brought to a public trial
+before all the lords and nobles of his court. And when all the
+great lords, the judges, and all the nobility of the land were
+assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy queen was
+standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their
+judgment, Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly and presented
+to the king the answer of the oracle, sealed up; and Leontes
+commanded the seal to be broken, and the words of the oracle to
+be read aloud, and these were the words:
+
+“Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true
+subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live
+without an heir if that which is lost be not found.”
+
+The king would give no credit to the words of the oracle. He said
+it was a falsehood invented by the queen’s friends, and be
+desired the judge to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while
+Leontes was speaking a man entered and told him that the Prince
+Mamillius, hearing his mother was to be tried for her life,
+struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.
+
+Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear, affectionate
+child, who had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune,
+fainted; and Leontes, pierced to the heart by the news, began to
+feel pity for his unhappy queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the
+ladies who were her attendants, to take her away and use means
+for her recovery. Paulina soon returned and told the king that
+Hermione was dead.
+
+When Leontes heard that the queen was dead he repented of his
+cruelty to her; and now that he thought his ill-usage had broken
+Hermione’s heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought
+the words of the oracle were true, as he knew “if that which was
+lost was not found,” which he concluded was his young daughter,
+he should be without an heir, the young Prince Mamillius being
+dead; and he would give his kingdom now to recover his lost
+daughter. And Leontes gave himself up to remorse and passed many
+years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
+
+The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to
+sea was driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very
+kingdom of the good King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed and
+here he left the little baby.
+
+Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had
+left his daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear
+came out of the woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment
+on him for obeying the wicked order Leontes.
+
+The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione
+had made it very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus
+had pinned a paper to its mantle, and the name of “Perdita”
+ written thereon, and words obscurely intimating its high birth
+and untoward fate.
+
+This poor, deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane
+man, and so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who
+nursed it tenderly. But poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal
+the rich prize be had found; therefore he left that part of the
+country, that no one might know where he got his riches, and with
+part of Perdita’s jewels be bought herds of sheep and became a
+wealthy shepherd. He brought up Perdita as his own child, and she
+knew not she was any other than a shepherd’s daughter.
+
+The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no
+better education than that of a shepherd’s daughter, yet so did
+the natural graces she inherited from her royal mother shine
+forth in her untutored mind that no one, from her behavior, would
+have known she had not been brought up in her father’s court.
+
+Polixenes, the King of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was
+Florizel. As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd’s
+dwelling he saw the old man’s supposed daughter; and the beauty,
+modesty, and queenlike deportment of Perdita caused him instantly
+to fall in love with her. He soon, under the name of Doricles,
+and in the disguise of a private gentleman, became a constant
+visitor at the old shepherd’s house. Florizel’s frequent absences
+from court alarmed Polixenes; and setting people to watch his
+son, he discovered his love for the shepherd’s fair daughter.
+
+Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had
+preserved his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he
+would accompany him to the house of the shepherd, the supposed
+father of Perdita. Polixenes and Camillo, both in disguise,
+arrived at the old shepherd’s dwelling while they were
+celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and though they were
+strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing, every guest being made
+welcome, they were invited to walk in and join in the general
+festivity.
+
+Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were
+spread and fit great preparations were making for the rustic
+feast. Some lads and lasses were dancing on the green before the
+house, while others of the young men were buying ribands, gloves,
+and such toys of a peddler at the door.
+
+While this busy scene was going forward Florizel and Perdita sat
+quietly in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the
+conversation of each other than desirous of engaging in the
+sports and silly amusements of those around them.
+
+The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could
+know him. He therefore advanced near enough to hear the
+conversation. The simple yet elegant manner in which Perdita
+conversed with his son did not a little surprise Polixenes. He
+said to Camillo:
+
+“This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does
+or says but looks like something greater than herself, too noble
+for this place.”
+
+Camillo replied, “Indeed she is the very queen of curds and
+cream.”
+
+“Pray, my good friend,” said the king to the old shepherd, “what
+fair swain is that talking with your daughter?”
+
+“They call him Doricles,” replied the shepherd. “He says he loves
+my daughter; and, to speak truth, there is not a kiss to choose
+which loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her, she
+shall bring him that he little dreams of,” meaning the remainder
+of Perdita’s jewels; which, after he had bought herds of sheep
+with part of them, he had carefully hoarded up for her marriage
+portion.
+
+Polixenes then addressed his son. “How now, young man!” said he.
+“Your heart seems full of something that takes off your mind from
+feasting. When I was young I used to load my love with presents;
+but you have let the peddler go and have bought your lass no
+toy.”
+
+The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king
+his father, replied, “Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the
+gifts which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.”
+ Then turning to Perdita, he said to her, “Oh, hear me, Perdita,
+before this ancient gentleman, who it seems was once himself a
+lover; he shall hear what I profess.” Florizel then called upon
+the old stranger to be a witness to a solemn promise of marriage
+which be made to Perdita, saying to Polixenes, “I pray you, mark
+our contract.”
+
+“Mark your divorce, young sir,” said the king, discovering
+himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract
+himself to this low-born maiden, calling Perdita “shepherd’s
+brat, sheep-hook,” and other disrespectful names, and threatening
+if ever she suffered his son to see her again, he would put her,
+and the old shepherd her father, to a cruel death.
+
+The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to
+follow him with Prince Florizel.
+
+When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was
+roused by Polixenes’s reproaches, said, “Though we are all
+undone, I was not much afraid; and once or twice I was about to
+speak and tell him plainly that the selfsame sun which shines
+upon his palace hides not his face from our cottage, but looks on
+both alike.” Then sorrowfully she said, “But now I am awakened
+from this dream, I will queen it no further. Leave me, sir. I
+will go milk my ewes and weep.”
+
+The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and
+propriety of Perdita’s behavior; and, perceiving that the young
+prince was too deeply in love to give up his mistress at the
+command of his royal father, he thought of a way to befriend the
+lovers and at the same time to execute a favorite scheme he had
+in his mind.
+
+Camillo had long known that Leontes, the King of Sicily, was
+become a true penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored
+friend of King Polixenes, he could not help wishing once more to
+see his late royal master and his native home. He therefore
+proposed to Florizel and Perdita that they should accompany him
+to the Sicilian court, where he would engage Leontes should
+protect them till, through his mediation, they could obtain
+pardon from Polixenes and his consent to their marriage.
+
+To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
+everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to
+go along with them.
+
+The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita’s jewels, her
+baby clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her
+mantle.
+
+After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the
+old shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes,
+who still mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received
+Camillo with great kindness and gave a cordial welcome to Prince
+Florizel. But Perdita, whom Florizel introduced as his princess,
+seemed to engross all Leontes’s attention. Perceiving a
+resemblance between her and his dead queen Hermione, his grief
+broke out afresh, and he said such a lovely creature might his
+own daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed her.
+
+“And then, too,” said he to Florizel, “I lost the society and
+friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more than my
+life once again to look upon.”
+
+When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of
+Perdita, and that he had lost a daughter who was exposed in
+infancy, he fell to comparing the time when he found the little
+Perdita with the manner of its exposure, the jewels and other
+tokens of its high birth; from all which it was impossible for
+him not to conclude that Perdita and the king’s lost daughter
+were the same.
+
+Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were
+present when the old shepherd related to the king the manner in
+which he had found the child, and also the circumstance of
+Antigonus’s death, he having seen the bear seize upon him. He
+showed the rich mantle in which Paulina remembered Hermione had
+wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which she remembered
+Hermione had tied about Perdita’s neck; and he gave up the paper
+which Paulina knew to be the writing of her husband. It could not
+be doubted that Perdita was Leontes’s own daughter. But, oh, the
+noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for her husband’s
+death and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the king’s heir,
+his long-lost daughter being found!  When Leontes heard that
+Perdita was his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that
+Hermione was not living to behold her child made him that he
+could say nothing for a long time but “Oh, thy mother, thy
+mother!”
+
+Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene with saying
+to Leontes that she had a statue newly finished by that rare
+Italian master, Julio Romano, which was such a perfect
+resemblance of the queen that would his Majesty be pleased to go
+to her house and look upon it, be would be almost ready to think
+it was Hermione herself. Thither then they all went; the king,
+anxious to see the semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita longing
+to behold what the mother she never saw did look like.
+
+When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous
+statue, so perfectly did it resemble Hermione that all the king’s
+sorrow was renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power
+to speak or move.
+
+“I like your silence, my liege,” said Paulina; “it the more shows
+your wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?”
+
+At length the king said: “Oh, thus she stood, even with such
+majesty, when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was
+not so aged as this statue looks.”
+
+Paulina replied: “So much the more the carver’s excellence, who
+has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had she been
+living now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently you
+think it moves.”
+
+The king then said: “Do not draw the curtain. Would I were dead!
+See, Carmillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to
+have motion in it.”
+
+“I must draw the curtain, my liege,” said Paulina. “You are so
+transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.”
+
+“Oh, sweet Pauline,” said Leontes, “make me think so twenty years
+together! Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
+fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I
+will kiss her.”
+
+“Good my lord, forbear!” said Paulina. “The ruddiness upon her
+lip is wet; you will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I
+draw the curtain?”
+
+“No, not these twenty years,” said Leontes.
+
+Perdita, who all this time bad been kneeling and beholding in
+silent admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now,
+“And so long could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.”
+
+“Either forbear this transport,” said Paulina to Leontes, “and
+let me draw the curtain or prepare yourself for more amazement. I
+can make the statue move indeed; aye, and descend from off the
+pedestal and take you by the hand. But then you will think, which
+I protest I am not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers.”
+
+“What you can make her do,” said the astonished king, “I am
+content to look upon. What you can make her speak I am content to
+hear; for it is as easy to make her speak as move.”
+
+Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had
+prepared for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of
+all the beholders, the statue came down from off the pedestal and
+threw its arms around Leontes’s neck. The statue then began to
+speak, praying for blessings on her husband and on her child, the
+newly found Perdita.
+
+No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes’s neck and blessed
+her husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed
+Hermione herself, the real, the living queen.
+
+Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione’
+thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress’s
+life; and with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since,
+never choosing Leontes should know she was living till she heard
+Perdita was found; for though she had long forgiven the injuries
+which Leontes had done to herself, she could not pardon his
+cruelty to his infant daughter.
+
+His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found,
+the long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of
+his own happiness.
+
+Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard
+on all sides. Now the delighted parents thanked Prince Florizel
+for loving their lowly seeming daughter; and now they blessed the
+good old shepherd for preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo
+and Paulina rejoice that they had lived to see so good an end of
+all their faithful services.
+
+And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
+unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
+
+When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that
+Camillo had long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he
+should find the fugitives here; and, following them with all
+speed, he happened to just arrive at this the happiest moment of
+Leontes’s life.
+
+Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend
+Leontes the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and
+they once more loved each other with all the warmth of their
+first boyish friendship. And there was no fear that Polixenes
+would now oppose his son’s marriage with Perdita. She was no
+“sheep-hook” now, but the heiress of the crown of Sicily.
+
+Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering
+Hermione rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her
+Leontes and her Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.
+
+
+
+
+MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+There lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were
+Hero and  Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the
+niece, of Leonato, the governor of Messina.
+
+Beatrice was of a lively temper and  loved to divert her cousin
+Hero, who  was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly
+sallies. Whatever was going forward was sure to make matter of
+mirth for the light-hearted Beatrice.
+
+At the time the history of these ladies commences some young men
+of high rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on
+their return from a war that was just ended, in which they bad
+distinguished themselves by their great bravery, came to visit
+Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro, the Prince of Arragon, and
+his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence; and with them
+came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of Padua.
+
+These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable
+governor introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their
+old friends and acquaintance.
+
+Benedick, the moment he entered the room, began a lively
+conversation with Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not
+to be left out of any discourse, interrupted Benedick with
+saying:
+
+“I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody
+marks you.”
+
+Benedick was just such another rattlebrain as Beatrice, yet he
+was not pleased at this free salutation; he thought it did not
+become a well-bred lady to be so flippant with her tongue; and he
+remembered, when he was last at Messina, that Beatrice used to
+select him to make her merry jests upon. And as there is no one
+who so little likes to be made a jest of as those who are apt to
+take the same liberty themselves, so it was with Benedick and
+Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former times but a
+perfect war of raillery was kept up between them, and they always
+parted mutually displeased with each other. Therefore, when
+Beatrice stopped him in the middle of his discourse with telling
+him nobody marked what he was saying, Benedick, affecting not to
+have observed before that she was present, said:
+
+“What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?” And now war
+broke out afresh between them, and a long jangling argument
+ensued, during which Beatrice, although she knew be had so well
+approved his valor in the late war, said that she would eat all
+he had killed there; and observing the prince take delight in
+Benedick’s conversation, she called him “the prince’s jester.”
+ This sarcasm sank deeper into the mind of Benedick than all
+Beatrice had said before. The hint she gave him that he was a
+coward, by saying she would eat all he bad killed, he did not
+regard, knowing himself to be a brave man; but there is nothing
+that great wits so much dread as the imputation of buffoonery,
+because the charge comes sometimes a little too near the truth;
+therefore Benedick perfectly hated Beatrice when she called him
+“the prince’s jester.”
+
+The modest lady Hero was silent before the noble guests; and
+while Claudio was attentively observing the improvement which
+time had made in her beauty, and was contemplating the exquisite
+graces of her fine figure (for she was an admirable young lady),
+the prince was highly amused with listening to the humorous
+dialogue between Benedick and Beatrice; and he said in a whisper
+to Leonato:
+
+“This is a pleasant-spirited young lady. She were an excellent
+wife for Benedick.”
+
+Leonato replied to this suggestion, “O my lord, my lord, if they
+were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad!”
+
+But though Leonato thought they would make a discordant pair, the
+prince did not give up the idea of matching these two keen wits
+together.
+
+When the prince returned with Claudio from the palace he found
+that the marriage he had devised between Benedick and Beatrice
+was not the only one projected in that good company, for Claudio
+spoke in such terms of Hero as made the prince guess at what was
+passing in his heart; and he liked it well, and he said to
+Claudio:
+
+“Do you affect Hero?”
+
+To this question Claudio replied, “O my lord, when I was last at
+Messina I looked upon her with a soldier’s eye, that liked, but
+had no leisure for loving; but now, in this happy time of peace,
+thoughts of war have left their places vacant in my mind, and in
+their room come thronging soft and delicate thoughts, all
+prompting me how fair young Hero is, reminding me that I liked
+her before I went to the wars.”
+
+Claudio’s confession of his love for Hero so wrought upon the
+prince that be lost no time in soliciting the consent of Leonato
+to accept of Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato agreed to this
+proposal, and the prince found no great difficulty in persuading
+the gentle Hero herself to listen to the suit of the noble
+Claudio who was a lord of rare endowments and highly
+accomplished, and Claudio, assisted by his kind prince, soon
+prevailed upon Leonato to fix an early day for the celebration of
+his marriage with Hero.
+
+Claudio was to wait but a few days before he was to be married to
+his fair lady; yet he complained of the interval being tedious,
+as indeed most young men are impatient when they are waiting for
+the accomplishment of any event they have set their hearts upon.
+The prince, therefore, to make the time seem short to him,
+proposed as a kind of merry pastime that they should invent some
+artful scheme to make Benedick and Beatrice fall in love with
+each other. Claudio entered with great satisfaction into this
+whim of the prince, and Leonato promised them his assistance, and
+even Hero said she would do any modest office to help her cousin
+to a good husband.
+
+The device the prince invented was that the gentlemen should make
+Benedick believe that Beatrice was in love with him, and that
+Hero should make Beatrice believe that Benedick was in love with
+her.
+
+The prince, Leonato, and Claudio began their operations first;
+and watching upon an opportunity when Benedick was quietly seated
+reading in an arbor, the prince and his assistants took their
+station among the trees behind the arbor, so near that Benedick
+could not choose but hear all they said; and after some careless
+talk the prince said:
+
+“Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me the other
+day--that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick? I
+did never think that lady would have loved any man.”
+
+“No, nor I neither, my lord,” answered Leonato. “It is most
+wonderful that she should so dote on Benedick, whom she in all
+outward behavior seemed ever to dislike.”
+
+Claudio confirmed all this with saying that Hero bad told him
+Beatrice was so in love with Benedick that she would certainly
+die of grief if he could not be brought to love her; which
+Leonato and Claudio seemed to agree was impossible, he having
+always been such a railer against all fair ladies, and in
+particular against Beatrice.
+
+The prince affected to harken to all this with great compassion
+for Beatrice, and he said, “It were good that Benedick were told
+of this.”
+
+“To what end?” said Claudio. “He would but make sport of it, and
+torment the poor lady worse.”
+
+“And if he should,” said the prince, “it were a good deed to hang
+him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and exceeding wise
+in everything but in loving Benedick.”
+
+Then the prince motioned to his companions that they should walk
+on and leave Benedick to meditate upon what he had overheard.
+
+Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this
+conversation; and he said to himself, when be heard Beatrice
+loved him: “Is it possible? Sits the wind in that corner?” And
+when they were gone, he began to reason in this manner with
+himself: “This can be no trick! They were very serious, and they
+have the truth from Hero, and seem to pity the lady. Love me!
+Why, it must be requited! I did never think to marry. But when I
+said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live to
+be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so.
+And wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great
+argument of her folly! But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she
+is a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.”
+
+Beatrice now approached him and said, with her usual tartness,
+“Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.”
+
+Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so politely to
+her before, replied, “Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.”
+ And when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left
+him, Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness
+under the uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud: “If I do
+not take pity on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am
+a Jew. I will go get her picture.”
+
+The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for
+him, it was now Hero’s turn to play her part with Beatrice; and
+for this purpose she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two
+gentlewomen who attended upon her, and she said to Margaret:
+
+“Good Margaret, run to the parlor; there you will find my cousin
+Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio. Whisper in her ear
+that I and Ursula are walking in the orchard and that our
+discourse is all of her. Bid her steal into that pleasant arbor,
+where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, like ungrateful minions,
+forbid the sun to enter.”
+
+This arbor into which Hero desired Margaret to entice Beatrice
+was the very same pleasant arbor where Benedick had so lately
+been an attentive listener.
+
+“I will make her come, I warrant, presently,” said Margaret.
+
+Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her:
+“Now, Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and down this
+alley, and our talk must be only of Benedick, and when I name
+him, let it be your part to praise him more than ever man did
+merit. My talk to you must be how Benedick is in love with
+Beatrice. Now begin; for look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs
+close by the ground, to hear our conference.”
+
+They then began, Hero saying’, as if in answer to something which
+Ursula had said: “No, truly, Ursula. She is too disdainful; her
+spirits are as coy as wild birds of the rock.”
+
+“But are you sure,” said Ursula, “that Benedick loves Beatrice so
+entirely?”
+
+Hero replied, “So says the prince and my lord Claudio, and they
+entreated me to acquaint her with it; but I persuaded them, if
+they loved Benedick, never to let Beatrice know of it.”
+
+“Certainly,” replied Ursula, “it were not good she knew his love,
+lest she made sport of it.”
+
+“Why, to say truth,” said Hero, never yet saw a man, how wise
+soever, or noble, young,@ or rarely featured, but she would
+dispraise him.”
+
+“Sure@ sure, such carping is not commendable,” said Ursula.
+
+“No,” replied Hero, “but who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
+she would mock me into air.”
+
+“Oh, you wrong your cousin!” said Ursula. “She cannot be so much
+without true judgment as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signor
+Benedick.”
+
+“He hath an excellent good name,” said Hero. “Indeed, he is the
+first man in Italy, always excepting my dear Claudio.”
+
+And now, Hero giving her attendant a hint that it was time to
+change the discourse, Ursula said, “And when are you to be
+married, madam?”
+
+Hero then told her that she was to be married to Claudio the next
+day, and desired she would go in with her and look at some new
+attire, as she wished to consult with her on what she would wear
+on the morrow.
+
+Beatrice, who had been listening with breathless eagerness to
+this dialogue, when they went away exclaimed: “What fire is in
+mine ears? Can this be true? Farewell, contempt and scorn, and
+maiden pride, adieu! Benedick, love on! I will requite you,
+taming my wild heart to your loving hand.”
+
+It must have been a pleasant sight to see these old enemies
+converted into new and loving friends, and to behold their first
+meeting after being cheated into mutual liking by the merry
+artifice of the good-humored prince. But a sad reverse in the
+fortunes of Hero must now be thought of. The morrow, which was to
+have been her wedding-day, brought sorrow on the heart of Hero
+and her good father, Leonato.
+
+The prince had a half-brother, who came from the wars along with
+him to Messina. This brother (his name was Don John) was a
+melancholy, discontented man, whose spirits seemed to labor in
+the contriving of villainies. He hated the prince his brother,
+and he hated Claudio because he was the prince’s friend, and
+determined to prevent Claudio’s marriage with Hero, only for the
+malicious pleasure of making Claudio and the prince unhappy, for
+he knew the prince had set his heart upon this marriage almost as
+much as Claudio himself; and to effect this wicked purpose he
+employed one Borachio, a man as bad as himself, whom he
+encouraged with the offer of a great reward. This Borachio paid
+his court to Margaret, Hero’s attendant; and Don John, knowing
+this, prevailed upon him to make Margaret promise to talk with
+him from her lady’s chamber window that night, after Hero was
+asleep, and also to dress herself in Hero’s clothes, the better
+to deceive Claudio into the belief that it was Hero; for that was
+the end he meant to compass by this wicked plot.
+
+Don John then went to the prince and Claudio and told them that
+Hero was an imprudent lady, and that she talked with men from her
+chamber window at midnight. Now this was the evening before the
+wedding, and he offered to take them that night where they should
+themselves hear Hero discoursing with a man from her window; and
+they consented to go along with him, and Claudio said:
+
+“If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her, to-morrow
+in the congregation, where I intended to wed her, there will I
+shame her.”
+
+The prince also said, “And as I assisted you to obtain her, I
+will join with you to disgrace her.”
+
+When Don John brought them near Hero’s chamber that night, they
+saw Borachio standing under the window, and they saw Margaret
+looking out of Hero’s window and heard her talking with Borachio;
+and Margaret being dressed in the same clothes they had seen Hero
+wear, the prince and Claudio believed it was the lady Hero
+herself.
+
+Nothing could equal the anger of Claudio when he had made (as be
+thought) this discovery. All his love for the innocent Hero was
+at once converted into hatred, and he resolved to expose her in
+the church, as he had said he would, the next day; and the
+prince agreed to this, thinking no punishment could be too severe
+for the naughty lady who talked with a man from her window the
+very night before she was going to be married to the noble
+Claudio.
+
+The next day, when they were all met to celebrate the marriage,
+and Claudio and Hero were standing before the priest, and the
+priest, or friar, as he was called, was proceeding to pronounce
+the marriage ceremony, Claudio, in the most passionate language,
+proclaimed the guilt of the blameless Hero, who, amazed at the
+strange words he uttered, said, meekly:
+
+“Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide?”
+
+Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, “My lord, why
+speak not you?”
+
+“What should I speak?” said the prince. “I stand dishonored that
+have gone about to link my dear friend to an unworthy woman.
+Leonato, upon my honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved
+Claudio did see and bear her last night at midnight talk with a
+man at her chamber window.”
+
+Benedick, in astonishment at what he heard, said, “This looks not
+like a nuptial.”
+
+“True, O God!” replied the heart-struck Hero; and then this
+hapless lady sank down in a fainting fit, to all appearance dead.
+
+The prince and Claudio left the church without staying to see if
+Hero would recover, or at all regarding the distress into which
+they had thrown Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made
+them.
+
+Benedick remained and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her
+swoon, saying, “How does the lady?”
+
+“Dead, I think,” replied Beatrice, in great agony, for she loved
+her cousin; and, knowing her virtuous principles, she believed
+nothing of what she had heard spoken against her.
+
+Not so the poor old father. He believed the story of his child’s
+shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she
+lay like one dead before him, wishing she might never more open
+her eyes.
+
+But the ancient friar was a wise man and full of observation on
+human nature, and he had attentively marked the lady’s
+countenance when she heard herself accused and noted a thousand
+blushing shames to start into her face, and then he saw an
+angel-like whiteness bear away those blushes, and in her eye be
+saw a fire that did belie the error that the prince did speak
+against her maiden truth, and he said to the sorrowing father:
+
+“Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observation; trust
+not my age, my reverence, nor my calling, if this sweet lady lie
+not guiltless here under some biting error.”
+
+When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen,
+the friar said to her, “Lady, what man is he you are accused of?”
+
+Hero replied, “They know that do accuse me; I know of none.” Then
+turning to Leonato, she said, “O my father, if you can prove that
+any man has ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I
+yesternight changed words with any creature, refuse me, hate me,
+torture me to death.”
+
+“There is,” said the friar, “some strange misunderstanding in the
+prince and Claudio.” And then he counseled Leonato that he should
+report that Hero was dead; and he said that the deathlike swoon
+in which they had left Hero would make this easy of belief; and
+he also advised him that he should put on mourning, and erect a
+monument for her, and do all rites that appertain to a burial.
+
+“What shall become of this?” said Leonato. “What will this do?”
+
+The friar replied: “This report of her death shall change slander
+into pity; that is some good. But that is not all the good 1 hope
+for. When Claudio shall hear she died upon hearing his words, the
+idea of her life shall sweetly creep into his imagination. Then
+shall he mourn, if ever love had interest in his heart, and wish
+that be had not so accused her; yea, though he thought his
+accusation true.”
+
+Benedick now said, “Leonato, let the friar advise you; and though
+you know how well I love the prince and Claudio, yet on my honor
+I will not reveal this secret to them.”
+
+Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said, sorrowfully, “I am
+so grieved that the smallest twine may lead me.”
+
+The kind friar then led Leonato and Hero away to comfort and
+console them, and Beatrice and Benedick remained alone; and this
+was the meeting from which their friends, who contrived the merry
+plot against them, expected so much diversion; those friends who
+were now overwhelmed with affliction and from whose minds all
+thoughts of merriment seemed forever banished.
+
+Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, “Lady Beatrice,
+have you wept all this while?”
+
+“Yea, and I will weep awhile longer,” said Beatrice.
+
+“Surely,” said. Benedick, “I do believe your fair cousin is
+wronged.”
+
+“Ah,” said Beatrice, “how much might that man deserve of me who
+would right her!”
+
+Benedick then said: “Is there any way to show such friendship? I
+do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that
+strange?”
+
+“It were as possible,” said Beatrice, “for me to say I loved
+nothing in the world so well as you; but believe me not, and yet
+I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for
+my cousin.”
+
+“By my sword,” said Benedick, “you love me, and I protest I love
+you. Come, bid me do anything for you.”
+
+“Kill Claudio,” said Beatrice.
+
+“Ha! not for the world,” said Benedick; for he loved his friend
+Claudio and he believed he had been imposed upon.
+
+“Is not Claudio a villain that has slandered, scorned, and
+dishonored my cousin?” said Beatrice. “Oh, that I were a man!”
+
+“Hear me, Beatrice!” said Benedick.
+
+But Beatrice would hear nothing in Claudio’s defense, and she
+continued to urge on Benedick to revenge her cousin’s wrongs; and
+she said: “Talk with a man out of the window? a proper saying!
+Sweet Hero! she is wronged; she is slandered; she is undone. Oh,
+that I were a man for Claudio’s sake! or that I had any friend
+who would be a man for my sake! But valor is melted into
+courtesies and compliments. I cannot be a man with wishing,
+therefore I will die a woman with grieving.”
+
+“Tarry, good Beatrice,” said Benedick. “By this hand I love you.”
+
+“Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it,” said
+Beatrice.
+
+“Think you on your soul that Claudio has wronged Hero?” asked
+Benedick.
+
+“Yea,” answered Beatrice; CC as sure as I have a thought or a
+soul.”
+
+“Enough,” said Benedick. “I am engaged; I will challenge him. I
+will kiss your hand, and so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall
+render me a dear account! As you hear from me, so think of me.
+Go, comfort your cousin.”
+
+While Beatrice was thus powerfully pleading with Benedick, and
+working his gallant temper, by the spirit of her angry words, to
+engage in the cause of Hero and fight even with his dear friend
+Claudio, Leonato was challenging the prince and Claudio to answer
+with their swords the injury they had done his child, who, be
+affirmed, had died for grief. But they respected his age and his
+sorrow, and they said:
+
+“Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.”
+
+And now came Benedick, and be also challenged Claudio to answer
+with his sword the injury be had done to Hero; and Claudio and
+the prince said to each other:
+
+“Beatrice has set him on to do this.”
+
+Claudio, nevertheless, must have accepted this challenge of
+Benedick had not the justice of Heaven at the moment brought to
+pass a better proof of the innocence of Hero than the uncertain
+fortune of a duel.
+
+While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the challenge of
+Benedick a magistrate brought Borachio as a prisoner before the
+prince. Borachio had been overheard talking with one of his
+companions of the mischief he had been employed by Don John to
+do.
+
+Borachio made a full confession to the prince in Claudio’s
+bearing that it was Margaret dressed in her lady’s clothes that
+he had talked with from the window, whom they had mistaken for
+the lady Hero herself. and no doubt continued on the minds of
+Claudio and the prince of the innocence of Hero. If a suspicion
+had remained it must have been removed by the flight of Don John,
+who, finding his villainies were detected, fled from Messina to
+avoid the just anger of his brother.
+
+The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found he bad
+falsely accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon bearing his
+cruel words; and the memory of his beloved Hero’s image came over
+him in the rare semblance that he loved it first; and the prince,
+asking him if what he heard did not run like iron through his
+soul, he answered that he felt as if he had taken poison while
+Borachio was speaking.
+
+And the repentant Claudio implored forgiveness of the old man
+Leonato for the injury he had done his child; and promised that,
+whatever penance Leonato would lay upon him for his fault in
+believing the false accusation against his betrothed wife, for
+her dear sake he would endure it.
+
+The penance Leonato enjoined him was to marry the next morning a
+cousin of Hero’s, who, he said, was now his heir, and in person
+very like Hero. Claudio, regarding the solemn promise he made to
+Leonato, said he would marry this unknown lady, even though she
+were an Ethiop. But his heart was very sorrowful, and he passed
+that night in tears and in remorseful grief at the tomb which
+Leonato had erected for Hero.
+
+When the morning came the prince accompanied Claudio to the
+church, where the good friar and Leonato and his niece were
+already assembled, to celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato
+presented to Claudio his promised bride. And she wore a mask,
+that Claudio might not discover her face. And Claudio said to the
+lady in the mask:
+
+“Give me your hand, before this holy friar. I am your husband, if
+you will marry me.”
+
+“And when I lived I was your other wife,” said this unknown
+lady; and, taking off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was
+pretended), but Leonato’s very daughter, the lady Hero herself.
+We may be sure that this proved a most agreeable surprise to
+Claudio, who thought her dead, so that be could scarcely for joy
+believe his eyes; and the prince, who was equally amazed at what
+he saw, exclaimed:
+
+“Is not this Hero, Hero that was dead?”’
+
+Leonato replied, “She died, my lord, but while her slander
+lived.”
+
+The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle,
+after the ceremony was ended, and was proceeding to marry them
+when he was interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at
+the same time to Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this
+match, and Benedick challenging her with her love for him, which
+he had learned from Hero, a pleasant explanation took place; and
+they found they had both been tricked into a belief of love,
+which had never existed, and had become lovers in truth by the
+power of a false jest. But the affection which a merry invention
+had cheated them into was grown too powerful to be shaken by a
+serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry, he was
+resolved to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say
+against it; and he merrily kept up the jest and swore to Beatrice
+that he took her but for pity, and because he heard she was dying
+of love for him; and Beatrice protested that she yielded but upon
+great persuasion, and partly to save his life, for she heard he
+was in a consumption. So these two mad wits were reconciled and
+made a match of it, after Claudio and Hero were married; and to
+complete the history, Don John, the contriver of the villainy,
+was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina; and a
+@@brave
+punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented man to see the joy
+and feastings which, by the disappointment of his plots, took
+place in the palace in Messina.
+
+
+
+
+AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+During the time that France was divided into provinces (or
+dukedoms, as they were called) there reigned in one of these
+provinces a usurper who had deposed and banished his elder
+brother, the lawful duke.
+
+The duke who was thus driven from his dominions retired with a
+few faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good
+duke lived with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a
+voluntary exile for his sake, while their land and revenues
+enriched the false usurper; and custom soon made the life of
+careless ease they led here more sweet to them than the pomp and
+uneasy splendor of a courtier’s life. Here they lived like the
+old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many noble youths
+daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time carelessly,
+as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they lay
+along under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the
+playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these
+poor dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of
+the forest, that it grieved them to be forced to kill them to
+supply themselves with venison for their food. When the cold
+winds of winter made the duke feel the change of his adverse
+fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say:
+
+“These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true
+counselors; they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my
+condition; and though they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing
+like so keen as that of unkindness and ingratitude. I find that
+howsoever men speak against adversity, yet some sweet uses are to
+be extracted from it; like the jewel, precious for medicine,
+which is taken from the head of the venomous and despised toad.”
+
+In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from
+everything that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn,
+in that life of his, remote from public haunts, he could find
+tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones,
+and good in everything.
+
+The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the
+usurper, Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still
+retained in his court as a companion for his own daughter, Celia.
+A strict friendship subsisted between these ladies, which the
+disagreement between their fathers did not in the least
+interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her power to make
+amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father in
+deposing the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her
+father’s banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper,
+made Rosalind melancholy, Celia’s whole care was to comfort and
+console her.
+
+One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to
+Rosalind, saying, “I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be
+merry,” a messenger entered from the duke, to tell them that if
+they wished to see a wrestling-match, which was just going to
+begin, they must come instantly to the court before the palace;
+and Celia, thinking it would amuse Rosalind, agreed to go and see
+it.
+
+In those times wrestling, which is only practised now by country
+clowns, was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and
+before fair ladies and princesses. To this wrestling-match,
+therefore, Celia and Rosalind went. They found that it was likely
+to prove a very tragical sight; for a large and powerful man, who
+had been long practised in the art of wrestling and had slain
+many men in contests of this kind, was just going to wrestle with
+a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and inexperience in
+the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be killed.
+
+When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind he said: “How now, daughter
+and niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will
+take little delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity
+to this young man, I would wish to persuade him from wrestling.
+Speak to him, ladies, and see if you can move him.”
+
+The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and
+first Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist
+from the attempt; and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and
+with such feeling consideration for the danger he was about to
+undergo, that, instead of being persuaded by her gentle words to
+forego his purpose, all his thoughts were bent to distinguish
+himself by his courage in this lovely lady’s eyes. He refused the
+request of Celia and Rosalind in such graceful and modest words
+that they felt still more concern for him; he concluded his
+refusal with saying:
+
+“I am sorry to deny such fair and excellent ladies anything. But
+let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial,
+wherein if I be conquered there is one shamed that was never
+gracious; if I am killed, there is one dead that is willing to
+die. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament
+me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; for I only
+fill up a place in the world which may be better supplied when I
+have made it empty.”
+
+And now the wrestling-match began. Celia wished the young
+stranger might not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The
+friendless state which he said he was in, and that he wished to
+die, made Rosalind think that he was, like herself, unfortunate;
+and she pitied him so much, and so deep an interest she took in
+his danger while he was wrestling, that she might almost be said
+at that moment to have fallen in love with him.
+
+The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble
+ladies gave him courage and strength, so that he performed
+wonders; and in the end completely conquered his antagonist, who
+was so much hurt that for a while he was unable to speak or move.
+
+The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill
+shown by this young stranger; and desired to know his name and
+parentage, meaning to take him under his protection.
+
+The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the
+youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+
+Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some
+years; but when he was living he had been a true subject and dear
+friend of the banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard
+Orlando was the son of his banished brother’s friend, all his
+liking for this brave young man was changed into displeasure and
+he left the place in very ill humor. Hating to bear the very name
+of any of his brother’s friends, and yet still admiring the valor
+of the youth, he said, as he went out, that he wished Orlando had
+been the son of any other man.
+
+Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son
+of her father’s old friend; and she said to Celia, “My father
+loved Sir Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was
+his son I would have added tears to my entreaties before he
+should have ventured.”
+
+The ladies then went up to him and, seeing him abashed by the
+sudden displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and
+encouraging words to him; and Rosalind, when they were going
+away, turned back to speak some more civil things to the brave
+young son of her father’s old friend, and taking a chain from off
+her neck, she said:
+
+“Gentleman, wear this for me. I am out of suits with fortune, or
+I would give you a more valuable present.”
+
+When the ladies were alone, Rosalind’s talk being still of
+Orlando, Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love
+with the handsome young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind:
+
+“Is it possible you should fall in love so suddenly?”
+
+Rosalind replied, “The duke, my father, loved his father dearly.”
+
+“But,” said Celia, “does it therefore follow that you should love
+his son dearly?. For then I ought to hate him, for my father
+hated his father; yet do not hate Orlando.”
+
+Frederick, being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys’s
+son, which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had
+among the nobility, and having been for some time displeased with
+his niece because the people praised her for her virtues and
+pitied her for her good father’s sake, his malice suddenly broke
+out against her; and while Celia and Rosalind were talking of
+Orlando, Frederick entered the room and  with looks full of anger
+ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the palace and follow her
+father into banishment, telling Celia, who in vain pleaded for
+her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her account.
+
+“I did not then,” said Celia, “entreat you to let her stay, for I
+was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know her
+worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the same
+instant, learned, played, and eat together, I cannot live out of
+her company.”
+
+Frederick replied: “She is too subtle for you; her smoothness,
+her very silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they
+pity her. You are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more
+bright and virtuous when she is gone; therefore open not your
+lips in her favor, for the doom which I have passed upon her is
+irrevocable.”
+
+When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let
+Rosalind remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany
+her; and, leaving her father’s palace that night, she went along
+with her friend to seek Rosalind’s father, the banished duke, in
+the forest of Arden.
+
+Before they set out Celia considered that it would be unsafe for
+two young ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore;
+she therefore proposed that they should disguise their rank by
+dressing themselves like country maids. Rosalind said it would be
+a still greater protection if one of them was to be dressed like
+a man. And so it was quickly agreed on between them that, as
+Rosalind was the tallest, she should wear the dress of a young
+countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass, and
+that they should say they were brother and sister; and Rosalind
+said she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of
+Aliena.
+
+In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray
+their expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long
+travel; for the forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the
+boundaries of the duke’s dominions.
+
+The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede, as she must now be called) with
+her manly garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The
+faithful friendship Celia had shown in accompanying Rosalind so
+many weary miles made the new brother, in recompense for this
+true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as if he were indeed
+Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the gentle
+village maiden, Aliena.
+
+When at last they came to the forest of Arden they no longer
+found the convenient inns and good accommodations they had met
+with on the road, and, being in want of food and rest, Ganymede,
+who had so merrily cheered his sister with pleasant speeches and
+happy remarks all the way, now owned to Aliena that he was so
+weary he could find in his heart to disgrace his man’s apparel
+and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could go no
+farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect that it was a
+man’s duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel;
+and to seem courageous to his new sister, he said:
+
+“Come, have a good heart, my sister Aliena. We are now at the end
+of our travel, in the forest of Arden.”
+
+But feigned manliness and forced courage would no longer support
+them; for, though they were in the forest of Arden, they knew not
+where to find the duke. And here the travel of these weary ladies
+might have come to a sad conclusion, for they might have lost
+themselves and perished for want of food, but, providentially, as
+they were sitting on the grass, almost dying with fatigue and
+hopeless of any relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way,
+and Ganymede once more tried to speak with a manly boldness,
+saying:
+
+“Shepherd, if love or gold can in this desert place procure us
+entertainment, I pray you bring us where we may rest ourselves;
+for this young maid, my sister, is much fatigued with traveling,
+and faints for want of food.”
+
+The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and
+that his master’s house was just going to be sold, and therefore
+they would find but poor entertainment; but that if they would go
+with him they should be welcome to what there was. They followed
+the man, the near prospect of relief giving them fresh strength,
+and bought the house and sheep of the shepherd, and took the man
+who conducted them to the shepherd’s house to wait on them; and
+being by this means so fortunately provided with a neat cottage,
+and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to stay here till
+they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt.
+
+When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they
+began to like their new way of life, and almost fancied
+themselves the shepherd and shepherdess they feigned to be. Yet
+sometimes Ganymede remembered be had once been the same Lady
+Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave Orlando because be was
+the son of old Sir Rowland, her father’s friend; and though
+Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so
+many weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that
+Orlando was also in the forest of Arden. And in this manner this
+strange event came to pass.
+
+Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he
+died, left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his
+eldest brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give
+his brother a good education and provide for him as became the
+dignity of their ancient house. Oliver proved an unworthy
+brother, and, disregarding the commands of his dying father, he
+never put his brother to school, but kept him at home untaught
+and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the noble
+qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent
+father that, without any advantages of education, he seemed like
+a youth who had been bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so
+envied the fine person and dignified manners of his untutored
+brother that at last he wished to destroy him, and to effect this
+be set on people to persuade him to wrestle with the famous
+wrestler who, as has been before related, had killed so many men.
+Now it was this cruel brother’s neglect of him which made Orlando
+say he wished to die, being so friendless.
+
+When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother
+proved victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he
+swore he would burn the chamber where Orlando slept. He was
+overheard making his vow by one that had been an old and faithful
+servant to their father, and that loved Orlando because he
+resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went out to meet him when he
+returned from the duke’s palace, and when he saw Orlando the
+peril his dear young master was in made him break out into these
+passionate exclamations:
+
+“O my gentle master, my sweet master! O you memory of Old Sir
+Rowland! Why are you virtuous? Why are you gentle, strong, and
+valiant? And why would you be so fond to overcome the famous
+wrestler? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.”
+
+Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the
+matter. And then the old man told him how his wicked brother,
+envying the love all people bore him, and now hearing the fame he
+had gained by his victory in the duke’s palace, intended to
+destroy him by setting fire to his chamber that night, and in
+conclusion advised him to escape the danger he was in by
+instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that
+was the good old man’s name) had brought out with him his own
+little hoard, and he said:
+
+“I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under your
+father and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs
+should become unfit for service. Take that, and He that doth the
+ravens feed be comfort to my age! Here is the gold. All this I
+give to you. Let me be your servant; though I look old I will do
+the service of a younger man in all your business and
+necessities.”
+
+“O good old man!” said Orlando, “how well appears in you the
+constant service of the old world! You are not for the fashion of
+these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful
+wages are spent I shall light upon some means for both our
+maintenance.”
+
+Together, then, this faithful servant and his loved master set
+out; and Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to
+pursue, till they came to the forest of Arden, and there they
+found themselves in the same distress for want of food that
+Ganymede and Aliena had been. They wandered on, seeking some
+human habitation, till they were almost spent with hunger and
+fatigue.
+
+Adam at last said: “O my dear master, I die for want of food. I
+can go no farther!” He then laid himself down, thinking to make
+that place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell.
+
+Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up
+in his arms and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant
+trees; and he said to him: “Cheerly, old Adam. Rest your weary
+limbs here awhile, and do not talk of dying!”
+
+Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to
+arrive at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and
+his friends were just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke
+being seated on the grass, under no other canopy than the shady
+covert of some large trees.
+
+Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword,
+intending to take their meat by force, and said: “Forbear and eat
+no more. I must have your food!”
+
+The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold or if he were
+a rude despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he was
+dying with hunger; and then the duke told him he was welcome to
+sit down and eat with them. Orlando, hearing him speak so gently,
+put up his sword and blushed with shame at the rude manner in
+which he had demanded their food.
+
+“Pardon me, I pray you,” said he. “I thought that all things had
+been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of stern
+command; but whatever men you are that in this desert, under the
+shade of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours
+of time, if ever you have looked on better days, if ever you have
+been where bells have knolled to church, if you have ever sat at
+any good man’s feast, if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a
+tear and know what it is to pity or be pitied, may gentle
+speeches now move you to do me human courtesy!”
+
+The duke replied: “True it is that we are men (as you say) who
+have seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in
+this wild forest, we have lived in towns and cities and have with
+holy bell been knolled to church, have sat at good men’s feasts,
+and from our eyes have wiped the drops which sacred pity has
+engendered; therefore sit you down and take of our refreshment as
+much as will minister to your wants.”
+
+“There is an old poor man,” answered Orlando, “who has limped
+after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with
+two sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied I must
+not touch a bit.”
+
+“Go, find him out and bring him hither,” said the duke. “We will
+forbear to eat till you return.”
+
+Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food;
+and presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms.
+
+And the duke said, “Set down your venerable burthen; you are both
+welcome.”
+
+And they fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived
+and recovered his health and strength again.
+
+The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was
+the son of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, be took him under
+his protection, and Orlando and his old servant lived with the
+duke in the forest.
+
+Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and
+Aliena came there and (as has been before related) bought the
+shepherd’s cottage.
+
+Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of
+Rosalind carved on the trees, and love-sonnets fastened to them,
+all addressed to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this
+could be they met Orlando and they perceived the chain which
+Rosalind had given him about his neck.
+
+Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess
+Rosalind who, by her noble condescension and favor, had so won
+his heart that he passed his whole time in carving her name upon
+the trees and writing sonnets in praise of her beauty; but being
+much pleased with the graceful air of this pretty shepherd-youth,
+he entered into conversation with him, and be thought he saw a
+likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that he had
+none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede
+assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are
+between boys and men, -and with much archness and humor talked to
+Orlando of a certain lover, “who,” said she, “haunts our forest,
+and spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their
+barks; and he hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles,
+all praising this same Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I
+would give him some good counsel that would soon cure him of his
+love.”
+
+Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke,,
+and asked Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked Of. The
+remedy Ganymede proposed, and the counsel he gave him was that
+Orlando should come every day to the cottage where he and his
+sister Aliena dwelt.
+
+“And then,” said Ganymede, “I will feign myself to be Rosalind,
+and you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would
+do if I was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways
+of whimsical ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of
+your love; and this is the way I propose to cure you.”
+
+Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come
+every day to Ganymede’s cottage and feign a playful courtship;
+and every day Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando
+called the shepherd Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked
+over all the fine words and flattering compliments which young
+men delight to use when they court their mistresses. It does not
+appear, however, that Ganymede made any progress in curing
+Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
+
+Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not
+dreaming that Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the
+opportunity it gave him of saying all the fond things he had in
+his heart pleased his fancy almost as well as it did Ganymede’s,
+who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing these fine love-speeches
+were all addressed to the right person.
+
+In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young
+people; and the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede
+happy, let him have his own way and was diverted at the
+mock-courtship, and did not care to remind Ganymede that the Lady
+Rosalind had not yet made herself known to the duke her father,
+whose place of resort in the forest they had learned from
+Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with
+him, and the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede
+answered that he came of as good parentage as he did, which made
+the duke smile, for he did not suspect the pretty shepherd-boy
+came of royal lineage. Then seeing the duke look well and happy,
+Ganymede was content to put off all further explanation for a few
+days longer.
+
+One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man
+lying asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted
+itself about his neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided
+away among the bushes. Orlando went nearer, and then he
+discovered a lioness lie crouching, with her head on the ground,
+with a catlike watch, waiting until the sleeping man awaked (for
+it is said that lions will prey on nothing that is dead or
+sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by Providence to free
+the man from the danger of the snake and lioness; but when
+Orlando looked in the man’s face he perceived that the sleeper
+who was exposed to this double peril was his own brother Oliver,
+who had so cruelly used him and had threatened to destroy him by
+fire, and he was almost tempted to leave him a prey to the hungry
+lioness; but brotherly affection and the gentleness of his nature
+soon overcame his first anger against his brother; and he drew
+his sword and attacked the lioness and slew her, and thus
+preserved his brother’s life both from the venomous snake and
+from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the
+lioness she had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws.
+
+While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and,
+perceiving that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly
+treated, was saving him from the fury of a wild beast at the risk
+of his own life, shame and remorse at once seized him, and he
+repented of his unworthy conduct and besought with many tears his
+brother’s pardon for the injuries he had done him. Orlando
+rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave him. They
+embraced each other and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando with
+a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent
+on his destruction.
+
+The wound in Orlando’s arm having bled very much, he found
+himself too weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he
+desired his brother to go and tell Ganymede, “whom,” said
+Orlando, “I in sport do call my Rosalind,” the accident which had
+befallen him.
+
+Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how
+Orlando had saved his life; and when he had finished the story of
+Orlando’s bravery and his own providential escape he owned to
+them that he was Orlando’s brother who had so cruelly used him;
+and then be told them of their reconciliation.
+
+The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made
+such a lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena that she
+instantly fell in love with him; and Oliver observing how much
+she pitied the distress he told her he felt for his fault, he as
+suddenly fell in love with her. But while love was thus stealing
+into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, he was no less busy with
+Ganymede, who, hearing of the danger Orlando had been in, and
+that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when he
+recovered he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the
+imaginary character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver:
+
+“Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.”
+
+But Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he did
+really faint, and, much wondering at the weakness of the young
+man, he said, “Well, if you did counterfeit, take a good heart
+and counterfeit to be a man.”
+
+“So I do,” replied Ganymede, truly, “but I should have been a
+woman by right.”
+
+Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he
+returned back to his brother he had much news to tell him; for,
+besides the account of Ganymede’s fainting at the hearing that
+Orlando was wounded, Oliver told him how he had fallen in love
+with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and that she had lent a
+favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first interview;
+and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled, that
+he should marry Aliena, saying that he so well loved her that he
+would live here as a shepherd and settle his estate and house at
+home upon Orlando.
+
+“You have my consent,” said Orlando. “Let your wedding be
+to-morrow, and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go
+and persuade your shepherdess to agree to this. She is now alone,
+for, look, here comes her brother.”
+
+Oliver went to Aliena, and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived
+approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded
+friend.
+
+When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love
+which had taken place between Oliver and. Aliena, Orlando said be
+had advised his brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be
+married on the morrow, and then he added how much he could wish
+to be married on the same day to his Rosalind.
+
+Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if
+Orlando really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he
+should have his wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make
+Rosalind appear in her own person, and also that Rosalind should
+be willing to marry Orlando.
+
+This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the Lady
+Rosalind, he could so easily perform, be pretended he would bring
+to pass by the aid of magic, which he said he had learned of an
+uncle who was a famous magician.
+
+The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he
+heard, asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning.
+
+“By my life I do,” said Ganymede. “Therefore put on your best
+clothes, and bid the duke and your friends to your wedding, for
+if you desire to be married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be
+here.”
+
+The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena,
+they came into the presence of the duke, and with them also came
+Orlando.
+
+They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and
+as yet only one of the brides appearing, there was much of
+wondering and conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede
+was making a jest of Orlando.
+
+The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be
+brought in this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the
+shepherd-boy could really do what he had promised; and while
+Orlando was answering that he knew not what to think, Ganymede
+entered and asked the duke, if he brought his daughter, whether
+he would consent to her marriage with Orlando.
+
+“That I would,” said the duke, “if I had kingdoms to give with
+her.”
+
+Ganymede then said to Orlando, “And you say you will marry her if
+I bring her here.”
+
+“That I would,” said Orlando, “if I were king of many kingdoms.”
+
+Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and, Ganymede
+throwing off his male attire, and being once more dressed in
+woman’s apparel, quickly became Rosalind without the power of
+magic; and Aliena, changing her country garb for her own rich
+clothes, was with as little trouble transformed into the lady
+Celia.
+
+While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando that he thought
+the shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and
+Orlando said he also had observed the resemblance.
+
+They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind
+and Celia, in their own clothes, entered, and, no longer
+pretending that it was by the power of magic that she came there,
+Rosalind threw herself on her knees before her father and begged
+his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to all present that she
+should so suddenly appear, that it might well have passed for
+magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and
+told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the
+forest as a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
+
+The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the
+marriage; and Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were
+married at the same time. And though their wedding could not be
+celebrated in this wild forest with any of the parade of splendor
+usual on such occasions, yet a happier wedding-day was never
+passed. And while they were eating their venison under the cool
+shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be wanting to
+complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, an
+unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news
+that his dukedom was restored to him.
+
+The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and
+hearing that every day men of great worth resorted to the forest
+of Arden to join the lawful duke in his exile, much envying that
+his brother should be so highly respected in his adversity, put
+himself at the head of a large force and advanced toward the
+forest, intending to seize his brother and put him with all his
+faithful followers to the sword; but by a wonderful interposition
+of Providence this bad brother was converted from his evil
+intention, for just as he entered the skirts of the wild forest
+he was met by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had
+much talk and who in the end completely turned his heart from his
+wicked design. Thenceforward he became a true penitent, and
+resolved, relinquishing his unjust dominion, to spend the
+remainder of his days in a religious house. The first act of his
+newly conceived penitence was to send a messenger to his brother
+(as has been related) to offer to restore to him his dukedom,
+which be had usurped so long, and with it the lands and revenues
+of his friends, the faithful followers of his adversity.
+
+This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came
+opportunely to heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the
+wedding of the princesses. Celia complimented her cousin on this
+good, fortune which had happened to the duke, Rosalind’s father,
+and wished her joy very sincerely, though she herself was no
+longer heir to the dukedom, but by this restoration which her
+father had made, Rosalind was now the heir, so completely was the
+love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of jealousy or of
+envy.
+
+The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends
+who had stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy
+followers, though they had patiently shared his adverse fortune,
+were very well pleased to return in peace and prosperity, to the
+palace of their lawful duke.
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose
+names were Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and
+uninterrupted friendship had long subsisted. They pursued their
+studies together, and their hours of leisure were always passed
+in each other’s company, except when Proteus visited a lady he
+was in love with. And these visits to his mistress,, and this
+passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only topics on
+which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
+himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his
+friend forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at
+Proteus, and in pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and
+declare that no such idle fancies should ever enter his head,
+greatly preferring (as he said) the free and happy life he led to
+the anxious hopes and fears of the lover Proteus.
+
+One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must
+for a time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus,
+unwilling to part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail
+upon Valentine not to leave him. But Valentine said:
+
+“Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
+sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping
+youths have ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained
+to the sweet glances of your honored Julia, I would entreat you
+to accompany me, to see the wonders of the world abroad; but
+since you are a lover, love on still, and may your love be
+prosperous!”
+
+They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.
+
+“Sweet Valentine, adieu!” said Proteus. “Think on me when you see
+some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish me
+partaker of your happiness.”
+
+Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when
+his friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to
+Julia, which he gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her
+mistress.
+
+Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of
+a noble spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden
+dignity too easily to be won; therefore she affected to be
+insensible of his passion and gave him much uneasiness in the
+prosecution of his suit.
+
+And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not
+receive it, and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus,
+and ordered her to leave the room. But she so much wished to see
+what was written in the letter that she soon called in her maid
+again; and when Lucetta returned she said, “What o’clock is it?”
+
+Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter
+than to know the time of day, without answering her question
+again offered the rejected letter. Julia, angry that her maid
+should thus take the liberty of seeming to know what she really
+wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on the floor,,
+ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
+retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn
+letter; but Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in
+pretended anger, “Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you
+would be fingering them to anger me.”
+
+Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
+fragments. She first made out these words, “Love-wounded
+Proteus”; and lamenting over these and such like loving words,
+which she made out though they were all torn asunder, or, she
+said WOUNDED (the expression “Love-wounded Proteus” giving her
+that idea), she talked to these kind words, telling them she
+would lodge them in her bosom as in a bed, till their wounds were
+healed, and that she would kiss each several piece to make
+amends.
+
+In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike
+childishness, till, finding herself unable to make out the whole,
+and vexed at her own ingratitude in destroying such sweet and
+loving words, as she called them, she wrote a much kinder letter
+to Proteus than she had ever done before.
+
+Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer
+to his letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, “Sweet
+love! sweet lines! sweet life!”
+
+In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father.
+“How now?” said the old gentleman. “What letter are you reading
+there?”
+
+“My lord,” replied Proteus, “it is a letter from my friend
+Valentine, at Milan.”
+
+“Lend me the letter,” said his father. “Let me see what news.”
+
+“There is no news, my lord,” said Proteus, greatly alarmed, “but
+that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
+daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the
+partner of his fortune.”
+
+“And how stand you affected to his wish?” asked the father.
+
+“As one relying on your lordship’s will and not depending on his
+friendly wish,” said Proteus.
+
+Now it had happened that Proteus’s father had just been talking
+with a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he
+wondered his lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home
+while most men were sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.
+
+“Some,” said he, “to the wars, to try their fortunes there, and
+some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
+universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to
+the Duke of Milan’s court. Your son is fit for any of these
+things, and it will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper
+age not to have traveled in his youth.”
+
+Proteus’s father thought the advice of his friend was very good,
+and upon Proteus telling him that Valentine “wished him with him,
+the partner of his fortune,” he at once determined to send his
+son to Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this
+sudden resolution, it being the usual habit of this positive old
+gentleman to command his son, not reason with him, he said:
+
+“My will is the same as Valentine’s wish.” And seeing his son
+look astonished, he added: “Look not amazed, that I so suddenly
+resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan’s court;
+for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
+readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory.”
+
+Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father,
+who never suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself
+for telling his father an untruth about Julia’s letter, which had
+brought upon him the sad necessity of leaving her.
+
+Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a
+time she no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each
+other a mournful farewell, with many vows of love and constancy.
+Proteus and Julia exchanged rings, which they both promised to
+keep forever in remembrance of each other; and thus, taking a
+sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his journey to Milan, the
+abode of his friend Valentine.
+
+Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father,
+in high favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had
+happened to him of which Proteus did not even dream, for
+Valentine had given up the freedom of which he used so much to
+boast, and was become as passionate a lover as Proteus.
+
+She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the
+Lady Silvia, daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved
+him; but they concealed their love from the duke, because,
+although he showed much kindness for Valentine and invited him
+every day to his palace, yet he designed to marry his daughter to
+a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia despised this
+Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent qualities
+of Valentine.
+
+These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit
+to Silvia, and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning
+everything Thurio said into ridicule, when the duke himself
+entered the room and told Valentine the welcome news of his
+friend Proteus’s arrival.
+
+Valentine said, “If I had wished a thing, it would have been to
+have seen him here!” And then he highly praised Proteus to the
+duke, saying, “My lord, though I have been a truant of my time,
+yet hath my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and
+is complete in person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a
+gentleman.”
+
+“Welcome him, then, according to his worth,” said the duke.
+“Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I
+need not bid him do so.”
+
+They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and
+Valentine introduced him to Silvia, saying, “Sweet lady,
+entertain him to be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.”
+
+When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone
+together, Valentine said:
+
+“Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your
+lady, and how thrives your love?”
+
+Proteus replied: “My tales of love used to weary you. I know you
+joy not in a love discourse.”
+
+“Aye, Proteus,” returned Valentine, “but that life is altered
+now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of
+my contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled
+eyes. O gentle Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so
+humbled me that I confess there is no woe like his correction nor
+no such joy on earth as in his service. I now like no discourse
+except it be of love. Now I can break my fast, dine, sup, and
+sleep upon the very name of love.”
+
+This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the
+disposition of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend
+Proteus. But “friend” Proteus must be called no longer, for the
+same all-powerful deity Love, of whom they were speaking (yea,
+even while they were talking of the change he had made in
+Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he, who had
+till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect
+friendship, was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a
+false friend and a faithless lover; for at the first sight of
+Silvia all his love for Julia vanished away like a dream, nor did
+his long friendship for Valentine deter him from endeavoring to
+supplant him in her affections; and although, as it will always
+be, when people of dispositions naturally good become unjust, be
+bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia and
+become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his
+sense of duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to
+his new unhappy passion.
+
+Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his
+love, and how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her
+father, and told him that, despairing of ever being able to
+obtain his consent, he had prevailed upon Silvia to leave her
+father’s palace that night and go with him to Mantua; then he
+showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of which he meant to
+assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the palace
+after it was dark.
+
+Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend’s dearest
+secrets, it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that
+Proteus resolved to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.
+
+This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the
+duke, such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal
+what he was going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke
+had shown him, and the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell
+that which else no worldly good should draw from him. He then
+told all he had heard from Valentine, not omitting the ladder of
+ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant to conceal them
+under a long cloak.
+
+The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
+preferred telling his friend’s intention rather than he would
+conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him
+not to let Valentine know from whom he had learned this
+intelligence, but by some artifice to make Valentine betray the
+secret himself. For this purpose the duke awaited the coming of
+Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw hurrying toward the
+palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within his cloak,
+which he concluded was the rope ladder.
+
+The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, “Whither away so fast,
+Valentine?”
+
+“May it please your grace,” said Valentine, “there is a messenger
+that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
+deliver them.”
+
+Now this falsehood of Valentine’s had no better success in the
+event than the untruth Proteus told his father.
+
+“Be they of much import?” said the duke.
+
+“No more, my lord,” said Valentine, “than to tell my father I am
+well and happy at your grace’s court.”
+
+“Nay then,” said the duke, “no matter; stay with me awhile. I
+wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly.”
+
+He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his
+secret from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match
+his daughter with Thurio, but that she was stubborn and
+disobedient to his commands.
+
+“Neither regarding,” said he, “that she is my child nor fearing
+me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
+hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have
+been cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a
+wife, and turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her
+beauty be her wedding dower, for me and my possessions she
+esteems not.”
+
+Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, “And
+what would your grace have me to do in all this?”
+
+“Why,” said the duke, “the lady I would wish to marry is nice and
+coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
+fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I
+would willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am
+to woo.”
+
+Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then
+practised by young men when they wished to win a fair lady’s
+love, such as presents, frequent visits, and the like.
+
+The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which
+he sent her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that
+no man might have access to her by day.
+
+“Why, then,” said Valentine, “you must visit her by night.”
+
+“But at night,” said the artful duke, who was now coming to the
+drift of his discourse, “her doors are fast locked.”
+
+Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get
+into the lady’s chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,,
+saying he would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in
+conclusion advised him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such
+a cloak as that which he now wore.
+
+“Lend me your cloak,” said the duke, who had feigned this long
+story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon
+saying these words he caught hold of Valentine’s cloak and,
+throwing it back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but
+also a letter of Silvia’s, which he instantly opened and read;
+and this letter contained a full account of their intended
+elopement. The duke, after upbraiding Valentine for his
+ingratitude in thus returning the favor he had shown him, by
+endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him from the
+court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
+depart that night without even seeing Silvia.
+
+While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at
+Verona was regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for
+him at last so far overcame her sense of propriety that she
+resolved to leave Verona and seek her lover at Milan; and to
+secure herself from danger on the road she dressed her maiden
+Lucetta and herself in men’s clothes,-. and they set out in this
+disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was banished
+from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.
+
+Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an
+inn; and, her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered
+into conversation with the innkeeper--or host, as he was
+called--thinking by that means to learn some news of Proteus.
+
+The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman
+(as he took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was
+of high rank, spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a
+good-natured man, he was sorry to see him look so melancholy; and
+to amuse his young guest he offered to take him to hear some fine
+music, with which, he said, a gentleman that evening was going to
+serenade his mistress.
+
+The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not
+well know what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had
+taken, for she knew he had loved her for her noble maiden pride
+and dignity of character, and she feared she should lower herself
+in his esteem; and this it was that made her wear a sad and
+thoughtful countenance.
+
+She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear
+the music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the
+way.
+
+But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
+different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for
+there, to her heart’s sorrow, she beheld her lover, the
+inconstant Proteus, serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and
+addressing discourse of love and admiration to her. And Julia
+overheard Silvia from a window talk with Proteus, and reproach
+him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his ingratitude his
+friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not choosing
+to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
+faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the
+ungenerous conduct of his false friend, Proteus.
+
+Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet
+did she still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had
+lately parted with a servant, she contrived, with the assistance
+of her host, the friendly innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus
+as a page; and Proteus knew not she was Julia, and he sent her
+with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia, and he even sent
+by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at Verona.
+
+When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to
+find that Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and
+Julia--or the page Sebastian, as she was called, entered into
+conversation with Silvia about Proteus’s first love, the forsaken
+Lady Julia. She putting in (as one may say) a good word for
+herself, said she knew Julia; as well she might, being herself
+the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia loved her
+master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her. And
+then she with a pretty equivocation went on: “Julia is about my
+height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the
+same as mine.” And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in
+her boy’s attire.
+
+Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly
+forsaken by the man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring
+which Proteus had sent, refused it, saying:
+
+“The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not
+take it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him.
+I love thee, gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a
+purse; I give it you for Julia’s sake.”
+
+These comfortable words coming from her kind rival’s tongue
+cheered the drooping heart of the disguised lady.
+
+But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which
+way to bend his course, being unwilling to return home to his
+father a disgraced and banished man. As he was wandering over a
+lonely forest, not far distant from Milan, where he had left his
+heart’s dear treasure, the Lady Silvia, he was set upon by
+robbers, who demanded his money.
+
+Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that
+be was going into banishment, and that he had no money, the
+clothes he had on being all his riches.
+
+The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being
+struck with his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he
+would live with them and be their chief, or captain, they would
+put themselves under his command; but that if he refused to
+accept their offer they would kill him.
+
+Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would
+consent to live with them and be their captain, provided they did
+no outrage on women or poor passengers.
+
+Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read
+in ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in
+this situation he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came
+to pass.
+
+Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted
+upon her no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of
+following Valentine to Mantua, at which place she had heard her
+lover had taken refuge; but in this account she was misinformed,
+for he still lived in the forest among the robbers, hearing the
+name of their captain, but taking no part in their depredations,
+and using the authority which they had imposed upon him in no
+other way than to compel them to show compassion to the travelers
+they robbed.
+
+Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father’s palace in
+company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom
+she took along with her for protection on the road. She had to
+pass through the forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt;
+and one of these robbers seized on Silvia, and would also have
+taken Eglamour, but he escaped.
+
+The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in,
+bade her not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her
+to a cave where his captain lived, and that she need not be
+afraid, for their captain had an honorable mind and always showed
+humanity to women. Silvia found little comfort in hearing she was
+going to be carried as a prisoner before the captain of a lawless
+banditti.
+
+“O Valentine,” she cried, “this I endure for thee!”
+
+But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he
+was stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the
+disguise of a page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had
+traced her steps to this forest. Proteus now rescued her from the
+hands the robber; but scarce had she time to thank him for the
+service he had done her before be began to distress her afresh
+with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing her to
+consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was
+standing beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the
+great service which Proteus had just done to Silvia should win
+her to show him some favor, they were all strangely surprised
+with the sudden appearance of Valentine, who, having heard his
+robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console and relieve
+her.
+
+Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being
+caught by his friend that he was all at once seized with
+penitence and remorse; and he expressed such a lively sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Valentine that Valentine, whose
+nature was noble and generous, even to a romantic degree, not
+only forgave and restored him to his former place in his
+friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:
+
+“I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
+give it up to you.”
+
+Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this
+strange offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this
+new-found virtue to refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all
+employed in recovering her, else would Silvia have been offended
+at being thus made over to Proteus, though she could scarcely
+think that Valentine would long persevere in this overstrained
+and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from the
+fainting fit, she said:
+
+“I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to
+Silvia.”
+
+Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave
+to Julia in return for that which he received from her and which
+he had sent by the supposed page to Silvia.
+
+“How is this?” said he. “This is Julia’s ring. How came you by
+it, boy?”
+
+Julia answered, “Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
+hath brought it hither.”
+
+Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that
+the page Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and
+the proof she had given of her constancy and true love so wrought
+in him that his love for her returned into his heart, and he took
+again his own dear lady and joyfully resigned all pretensions to
+the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had so well deserved her.
+
+Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
+reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when
+they were surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and
+Thurio, who came there in pursuit of Silvia.
+
+Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying,
+“Silvia is mine.”
+
+Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner:
+“Thurio, keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours,
+you shall embrace your death. Here she stands, take but
+possession of her with a touch! I dare you but to breathe upon my
+love.”
+
+Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back,
+and said he cared not for her and that none but a fool would
+fight for a girl who loved him not.
+
+The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great
+anger, “The more base and degenerate in you to take such means
+for her as you have done and leave her on such slight
+conditions.”
+
+Then turning to Valentine he said: “I do applaud your spirit,
+Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress’s love. You shall
+have Silvia, for you have well deserved her.”
+
+Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke’s hand and
+accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter
+with becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute
+to entreat the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom
+he had associated in the forest, assuring him that when reformed
+and restored to society there would be found among them many
+good, and fit for great employment; for the most of them had been
+banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather than for any
+black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the’ ready duke
+consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
+friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted
+faults, to be present at the recital of the whole story of his
+loves and falsehoods before the duke. And the shame of the
+recital to his awakened conscience was judged sufficient
+punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four, returned back
+to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence of
+the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.
+
+
+
+
+THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+Shylock, the Jew, lived at Venice. He was a usurer who had
+amassed an immense fortune by lending money at great interest to
+Christian merchants. Shylock, being a hard-hearted man, exacted
+the payment of the money he lent with such severity that he was
+much disliked by all good men, and particularly by Antonio, a
+young merchant of Venice; and Shylock as much hated Antonio,
+because he used to lend money to people in distress, and would
+never take any interest for the money he lent; therefore there
+was great enmity between this covetous Jew and the generous
+merchant Antonio. Whenever Antonio met Shylock on the Rialto, (or
+Exchange) he used to reproach him with his usuries and hard
+dealings, which the Jew would bear with seeming patience, while
+he secretly meditated revenge.
+
+Antonio was the kindest man that lived, the best conditioned, and
+had the most unwearied spirit in doing courtesies; indeed, he was
+one in whom the ancient Roman honor more appeared than in any
+that drew breath in Italy. He was greatly beloved by all his
+fellow-citizens; but the friend who was nearest and dearest to
+his heart was Bassanio, a noble Venetian, who, having but a small
+patrimony, had nearly exhausted his little fortune by living in
+too expensive a manner for his slender means, at young men of
+high rank with small fortunes are too apt to do. Whenever
+Bassanio wanted money Antonio assisted him; and it seemed as if
+they had but one heart and one purse between them.
+
+One day Bassanio came to Antonio and told him that he wished to
+repair his fortune by a wealthy marriage with a lady whom he
+dearly loved, whose father, that was lately dead, had left her
+sole heiress to a large estate; and that in her father’s lifetime
+he used to visit at her house, when he thought he had observed
+this lady had sometimes from her eyes sent speechless messages
+that seemed to say he would be no unwelcome suitor; but not
+having money to furnish himself with an appearance befitting the
+lover of so rich an heiress, he besought Antonio to add to the
+many favors he had shown him by lending him three thousand
+ducats.
+
+Antonio had no money by him at that time to lend his friend; but
+expecting soon to have. some ships come home laden with
+merchandise, he said he would go to Shylock, the rich
+moneylender, and borrow the money upon the credit of those ships.
+
+Antonio and Bassanio went together to Shylock, and Antonio asked
+the Jew to lend him three thousand ducats upon any interest he
+should require, to be paid out of the merchandise contained in
+his ships at sea.
+
+On this, Shylock thought within himself: “If I can once catch him
+on the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He
+hates our Jewish nation; he lends out money gratis; and among the
+merchants he rails at me and my well-earned bargains, which he
+calls interest. Cursed be my tribe if I forgive him!”
+
+Antonio, finding be was musing within himself and did not answer,
+and being impatient for the money, said:
+
+“Shylock, do you hear? Will you lend the money?”
+
+To this question the Jew replied: “Signor Antonio, on the Rialto
+many a time and often you have railed at me about my moneys and
+my usuries, and I have borne it with a patient shrug, for
+sufferance is the badge of all our tribe; and then you have
+called me unbeliever, cutthroat dog, and spit upon my Jewish
+garments, and spurned at me with your foot, as if I was a cur.
+Well, then, it now appears you need my help, and you come to me
+and say, ‘Shylock, lend me moneys.’ Has a dog money? Is it
+possible a cur should lend three thousand ducats? Shall I bend
+low and say, ‘Fair sir, you spit upon me on Wednesday last;
+another time you called me dog, and for these courtesies I am to
+lend you moneys.”’
+
+Antonio replied: “I am as like to call you so again, to spit on
+you again, and spurn you, too. If you will lend me this money,
+lend it not to me as to a friend, but rather lend it to me as to
+an enemy, that, if I break, you may with better face exact the
+penalty.”
+
+“Why, look you,” said Shylock, “how you storm! I would be friends
+with you and have your love. I will forget the shames you have
+put upon me. I will supply your wants and take no interest for my
+money.”
+
+This seemingly kind offer greatly surprised Antonio; and then
+Shylock, still pretending kindness and that all he did was to
+gain Antonio’s love, again said he would lend him the three
+thousand ducats, and take no interest for his money; only Antonio
+should go with him to a lawyer and there sign in merry sport a
+bond that, if he did not repay the money by a certain day, he
+would forfeit a pound of flesh, to be cut off from any part of
+his body that Shylock pleased.
+
+“Content,” said Antonio. “I will sign to this bond, and say there
+is much kindness in the Jew.”
+
+Bassanio said Antonio should not sign to such a bond for him; but
+still Antonio insisted that he would sign it, for that before the
+day of payment came his ships would return laden with many times
+the value of the money.
+
+Shylock, hearing this debate, exclaimed: “O Father Abraham, what
+suspicious people these Christians are! Their own hard dealings
+teach them to suspect the thoughts of others. I pray you tell me
+this, Bassanio: if he should break his day, what should I gain by
+the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man’s flesh, taken
+from a man, is not so estimable, profitable, neither, as the
+flesh of mutton or beef. I say, to buy his favor I offer this
+friendship: if he will take it, so; if not, adieu.”
+
+At last, against the advice of Bassanio, who, notwithstanding all
+the Jew had said of his kind intentions, did not like his friend
+should run the hazard of this shocking penalty for his sake,
+Antonio signed the bond, thinking it really was (as the Jew said)
+merely in sport.
+
+The rich heiress that Bassanio wished to marry lived near Venice,
+at a place called Belmont. Her name was Portia, and in the graces
+of her person and her mind she was nothing inferior to that
+Portia, of whom we read, who was Cato’s daughter and the wife of
+Brutus.
+
+Bassanio being so kindly supplied with money by his friend
+Antonio, at the hazard of his life, set out for Belmont with a
+splendid train and attended by a gentleman of the name of
+Gratiano.
+
+Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time
+consented to accept of him for a husband.
+
+Bassanio confessed to Portia that he had no fortune and that his
+high birth and noble ancestry were all that he could boast of;
+she, who loved him for his worthy qualities and had riches enough
+not to regard wealth in a husband, answered, with a graceful
+modesty, that she would wish herself a thousand times more fair,
+and ten thousand times more rich, to be more worthy of him; and
+then the accomplished Portia prettily dispraised herself and said
+she was an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, yet not so
+old but that she could learn, and that she would commit her
+gentle spirit to be directed and governed by him in all things;
+and she said: “Myself and what is mine to you and yours is now
+converted. But yesterday, Bassanio, I was the lady of this fair
+mansion, queen of myself, and mistress over these servants; and
+now this house, these servants, and myself are yours, my lord; I
+give them with this ring,” presenting a ring to Bassanio.
+
+Bassanio was so overpowered with gratitude and wonder at the
+gracious manner in which the rich and noble Portia accepted of a
+man of his humble fortunes that he could not express his joy
+
+and reverence to the dear lady who so honored him, by anything
+but broken words of love and thankfulness; and, taking the ring,
+he vowed never to part with it.
+
+Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia’s waiting-maid, were in attendance
+upon their lord and lady when Portia so gracefully promised to
+become the obedient wife of Bassanio; and Gratiano, wishing
+Bassanio and the generous lady joy, desired permission to be
+married at the same time.
+
+“With all my heart, Gratiano,” said Bassanio, “if you can get a
+wife.”
+
+Gratiano then said that he loved the Lady Portia’s fair
+waiting-gentlewoman, Nerissa, and that she had promised to be his
+wife if her lady married Bassanio. Portia asked Nerissa if this
+was true. Nerissa replied:
+
+“Madam, it is so, if you approve of it.”
+
+Portia willingly consenting, Bassanio pleasantly said:
+
+“Then our wedding-feast shall be much honored by your marriage,
+Gratiano.”
+
+The happiness of these lovers was sadly crossed at this moment by
+the entrance of a messenger, who brought a letter from Antonio
+containing fearful tidings. When Bassanio read Antonio’s letter,
+Portia feared it was to tell him of the death of some dear
+friend, he looked so pale; and, inquiring what was the news which
+bad so distressed him, he said:
+
+“Oh, sweet Portia, here are a few of the unpleasantest words that
+ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, when I first imparted my love to
+you, I freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins; but
+I should have told you that I had less than nothing, being in
+debt.”
+
+Bassanio then told Portia what has been here related, of his
+borrowing the money of Antonio, and of Antonio’s procuring it of
+Shylock the Jew, and of the bond by which Antonio had engaged to
+forfeit a pound of flesh if it was not repaid by a certain day:
+and then Bassanio read Antonio’s letter, the words of which were:
+
+‘Sweet Bassanio, my ships are all lost, my bond to the Jew is
+forfeited, and since in paying it is impossible I should live, I
+could wish, to see you at my death; notwithstanding, use your
+pleasure. If your love for me do not persuade you to come, let
+not my letter.’
+
+“Oh, my dear love,” said Portia, “despatch all business and
+begone; you shall have gold to pay the money twenty times over,
+before this kind friend shall lose a hair by my Bassanio’s fault;
+and as you are so dearly bought, I will dearly love you.”
+
+Portia then said she would be married to Bassanio before he set
+out, to give him a legal right to her money; and that same day
+they were married, and Gratiano was also married to Nerissa; and
+Bassanio and Gratiano, the instant they were married, set out in
+great haste for Venice, where Bassanio found Antonio in prison.
+
+The day of payment being past, the cruel Jew would not accept of
+the money which Bassanio offered him, but insisted upon having a
+pound of Antonio’s flesh. A day was appointed to try this
+shocking cause before the Duke of Venice, and Bassanio awaited in
+dreadful suspense the event of the trial.
+
+When Portia parted with her husband she spoke cheeringly to him
+and bade him bring his dear friend along with him when he
+returned; yet she feared it would go hard with Antonio, and when
+she was left alone she began to think and consider within herself
+if she could by any means be instrumental in saving the life of
+her dear Bassanio’s friend. And notwithstanding when she wished
+to honor her Bassanio she had said to him, with such a meek and
+wifelike grace, that she would submit in all things to be
+governed by his superior wisdom, yet being now called forth into
+action by the peril of her honored husband’s friend, she did
+nothing doubt her own powers, and by the sole guidance of her own
+true and perfect judgment at once resolved to go herself to
+Venice and speak in Antonio’s defense.
+
+Portia had a relation who was a counselor in the law; to this
+gentleman, whose name was Bellario, she wrote, and, stating the
+case to him, desired his opinion, and that with his advice he
+would also send her the dress worn by a counselor. When the
+messenger returned he brought letters from Bellario of advice how
+to proceed, and also everything necessary for her equipment.
+
+Portia dressed herself and her maid Nerissa in men’s apparel,
+and, putting on the robes of a counselor, she took Nerissa along
+with her as her clerk; setting out immediately, they arrived at
+Venice on the very day of the trial. The cause was just going to
+be heard before the Duke and Senators of Venice in the Senate
+House when Portia entered this high court of justice and
+presented a letter from Bellario, in which that learned counselor
+wrote to the duke, saying he would have come himself to plead for
+Antonio but that he was prevented by sickness, and he requested
+that the learned young Doctor Balthasar (so he called Portia)
+might be permitted to plead in his stead. This the Duke granted,
+much wondering at the youthful appearance of the stranger, who
+was prettily disguised by her counselor’s robes and her large
+wig.
+
+And now began this important trial. Portia looked around her and
+she saw the merciless Jew; and she saw Bassanio, but he knew her
+not in her disguise. He was standing beside Antonio, in an agony
+of distress and fear for his friend.
+
+The importance of the arduous task Portia had engaged in gave
+this tender lady courage, and she boldly proceeded in the duty
+she had undertaken to perform. And first of all she addressed
+herself to Shylock; and allowing that he had a right by the
+Venetian law to have the forfeit expressed in the bond, she spoke
+so sweetly of the noble quality of MERCY as would have softened
+any heart but the unfeeling Shylock’s, saying that it dropped as
+the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath; and how mercy
+was a double blessing, it blessed him that gave and him that
+received it; and how it became monarchs better than their crowns,
+being an attribute of God Himself; and that earthly power came
+nearest to God’s in proportion as mercy tempered justice; and she
+bade Shylock remember that as we all pray for mercy, that same
+prayer should teach us to show mercy. Shylock only answered her
+by desiring to have the penalty forfeited in the bond.
+
+“Is he not able to pay the money?” asked Portia.
+
+Bassanio then offered the Jew the payment of the three thousand
+ducats as many times over as he should desire; which Shylock
+refusing, and still insisting upon having a pound of Antonio’s
+flesh, Bassanio begged the learned young counselor would endeavor
+to wrest the law a little, to save Antonio’s life. But Portia
+gravely answered that laws once established never be altered.
+Shylock, hearing Portia say that the law might not be altered, it
+seemed to him that she was pleading in his favor, and he said:
+
+“A Daniel is come to judgment! O wise young judge, how I do honor
+you! How much elder are you than your looks!”
+
+Portia now desired Shylock to let her look at the bond; and when
+she had read it she said: “This bond is forfeited, and by this
+the Jew may lawfully claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
+nearest Antonio’s heart.” Then she said to Shylock, “Be merciful;
+take the money and bid me tear the bond.”
+
+But no mercy would the cruel Shylock show; and he said, “By my
+soul, I swear there is no power in the tongue of man to alter
+me.”
+
+“Why, then, Antonio,” said Portia, “you must prepare your bosom
+for the knife.” And while Shylock was sharpening a long knife
+with great eagerness to cut off the pound of flesh, Portia said
+to Antonio, “Have you anything to say?”
+
+Antonio with a calm resignation replied that he had but little to
+say, for that he had prepared his mind for death. Then he said to
+Bassanio:
+
+“Give me your hand, Bassanio! Fare you well! Grieve not that I am
+fallen into this misfortune for you. Commend me to your honorable
+wife and tell her how I have loved you!”
+
+Bassanio in the deepest affliction replied: “Antonio, I am
+married to a wife who is as dear to me as life itself; but life
+itself, my wife, and all the world are not esteemed with me above
+your life. I would lose all, I would sacrifice all to this devil
+here, to deliver you.”
+
+Portia hearing this, though the kind-hearted lady was not at all
+offended with her husband for expressing the love he owed to so
+true a friend as Antonio in these strong terms, yet could not
+help answering:
+
+“Your wife would give you little thanks, if she were present, to
+hear you make this offer.”
+
+And then Gratiano, who loved to copy what his lord did, thought
+he must make a speech like Bassanio’s, and he said, in Nerissa’s
+hearing, who was writing in her clerk’s dress by the side of
+Portia:
+
+“I have a wife whom I protest I love. I wish she were in heaven
+if she could but entreat some power there to change the cruel
+temper of this currish Jew.”
+
+“It is well you wish this behind her back, else you would have
+but an unquiet house,” said Nerissa.
+
+Shylock now cried out, impatiently: “We trifle time. I pray
+pronounce the sentence.”
+
+And now all was awful expectation in the court, and every heart
+was full of grief for Antonio.
+
+Portia asked if the scales were ready to weigh the flesh; and she
+said to the Jew, “Shylock, you must have some surgeon by, lest he
+bleed to death.”
+
+Shylock, whose whole intent was that Antonio should bleed to
+death, said, “It is not so named in the bond.”
+
+Portia replied: “It is not so named in the bond, but what of
+that? It were good you did so much for charity.”
+
+To this all the answer Shylock would make was, “I cannot find it;
+it is not in the bond.”
+
+“Then,” said Portia, “a pound of Antonio’s flesh is thine. The
+law allows it and the court awards it. And you may cut this flesh
+from off his breast. The law allows it and the court awards it.”
+
+Again Shylock exclaimed: “O wise and upright judge! A Daniel is
+come to judgment!” And then he sharpened his long knife again,
+and looking eagerly on Antonio, he said, “Come, prepare!”
+
+“Tarry a little, Jew,” said Portia. “There is something else.
+This bond here gives you no drop of blood; the words expressly
+are, ‘a pound of flesh.’ If in the cutting off the pound of flesh
+you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by
+the law to be confiscated to the state of Venice.”
+
+Now as it was utterly impossible for Shylock to cut off the pound
+of flesh without shedding some of Antonio’s blood, this wise
+discovery of Portia’s, that it was flesh and not blood that was
+named in the bond, saved the life of Antonio; and all admiring
+the wonderful sagacity of the young counselor who had so happily
+thought of this expedient, plaudits resounded from every part of
+the Senate House; and Gratiano exclaimed, in the words which
+Shylock had used:
+
+“O wise and upright judge! Mark, Jew, a Daniel is come to
+judgment!”
+
+Shylock, finding himself defeated in his cruel intent, said, with
+a disappointed look, that he would take the money. And Bassanio,
+rejoiced beyond measure at Antonio’s unexpected deliverance,
+cried out:
+
+“Here is the money!”
+
+But Portia stopped him, saying: “Softly; there is no haste. The
+Jew shall have nothing but the penalty. Therefore prepare,
+Shylock, to cut off the flesh; but mind you shed no blood; nor do
+not cut off more nor less than just a pound; be it more or less
+by one poor scruple, nay, if the scale turn but by the weight of
+a single hair, you are condemned by the laws of Venice to die,
+and all your wealth is forfeited to the state.”
+
+“Give me my money and let me go,” said Shylock.
+
+“I have it ready,” said Bassanio. “Here it is.”
+
+Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped
+him, saying: “Tarry, Jew. I have yet another hold upon you. By
+the laws of Venice your wealth is forfeited to the state for
+having conspired against the life of one of its citizens, and
+your life lies at the mercy of the duke; therefore, down on your
+knees and ask him to pardon you.”
+
+The duke then said to Shylock: “That you may see the difference
+of our Christian spirit, I pardon you your life before you ask
+it. Half your wealth belongs to Antonio, the other half comes to
+the state.”
+
+The generous Antonio then said that he would give up his share of
+Shylock’s wealth if Shylock would sign a deed to make it over at
+his death to his daughter and her husband; for Antonio knew that
+the Jew had an only daughter who had lately married against his
+consent a young Christian named Lorenzo, a friend of Antonio’s,
+which had so offended Shylock that he had disinherited her.
+
+The Jew agreed to this; and being thus disappointed in his
+revenge and despoiled of his riches, he said: “I am ill. Let me
+go home. Send the deed after me, and I will sign over half my
+riches to my daughter.”
+
+“Get thee gone, then,” said the duke, “and sign it; and if you
+repent your cruelty and turn Christian, the state will forgive
+you the fine of the other half of your riches.”
+
+The duke now released Antonio and dismissed the court. He then
+highly praised the wisdom and ingenuity of the young counselor
+and invited him home to dinner.
+
+Portia, who meant to return to Belmont before her husband,
+replied, “I humbly thank your Grace, but I must away directly.”
+
+The duke said he was sorry he had not leisure to stay and dine
+with him, and, turning to Antonio, he added, “Reward this
+gentleman; for in my mind you are much indebted to him.”
+
+The duke and his senators left the court; and then Bassanio said
+to Portia: “Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Antonio have
+by your wisdom been this day acquitted of grievous penalties, and
+I beg you will accept of the three thousand ducats due unto the
+Jew.”
+
+“And we shall stand indebted to you over and above,” said
+Antonio, “in love and service evermore.”
+
+Portia could not be prevailed upon to accept the money. But upon
+Bassanio still pressing her to accept of some reward, she said:
+
+“Give me your gloves. I will wear them for your sake.” And then
+Bassanio taking off his gloves, she espied the ring which she had
+given him upon his finger. Now it was the ring the wily lady
+wanted to get from him to make a merry jest when she saw her
+Bassanio again, that made her ask him for his gloves; and she
+said, when she saw the ring, “And for your love, I will take this
+ring from you.”
+
+Bassanio was sadly distressed that the counselor should ask him
+for the only thing he could not part with, and he replied, in
+great confusion, that be could not give him that ring, because it
+was his wife’s gift and he had vowed never to part with it; but
+that he would give him the most valuable ring in Venice, and find
+it out by proclamation.
+
+On this Portia affected to be affronted, and left the court,
+saying, “You teach me, sir, how a beggar should be answered.”
+
+“Dear Bassanio,” said Antonio, “let him have the ring. Let My love and
+the great service he has done for me be valued against your wife’s
+displeasure.” Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful, yielded, and
+sent Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the “clerk” Nerissa,
+who had also given Gratiano a ring, begged his ring, and Gratiano (not
+choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave it to her. And
+there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got home, how
+they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings and swear
+that they had given them as a present to some woman.
+
+Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which
+never fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a
+good action. Her cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw: the
+moon never seemed to shine so bright before; and when that
+pleasant moon was hid behind a cloud, then a light which she saw
+from her house at Belmont as well pleased her charmed fancy, and
+she said to Nerissa:
+
+“That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little
+candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty
+world.” And hearing the sound of music from her house, she said,
+“Methinks that music sounds much sweeter than by day.”
+
+And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and, dressing
+themselves in their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of
+their husbands, who soon followed them with Antonio; and Bassanio
+presenting his dear friend to the Lady Portia, the
+congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly over when
+they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarreling in a corner of
+the room.
+
+“A quarrel already?” said Portia. “What is the matter?”
+
+Gratiano replied, “Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that
+Nerissa gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler’s
+knife: ‘Love me, and leave me not.’”
+
+“What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?” said
+Nerissa. “You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would
+keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to
+the lawyer’s clerk. I know you gave it to a woman.”
+
+“By this hand,” replied Gratiano, “I gave it to a youth, a kind
+Of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; be was
+clerk to the young counselor that by his wise pleading saved
+Antonio’s life. This prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could
+not for my life deny him.”
+
+Portia said: “You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your
+wife’s first gift. I gave my Lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure
+be would not part with it for all the world.”
+
+Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, “My Lord Bassanio
+gave his ring away to the counselor, and then the boy, his clerk,
+that took some pains in writing, he begged my ring.”
+
+Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry and reproached Bassanio
+for giving away her ring; and she said Nerissa had taught her
+what to believe, and that she knew some woman had the ring.
+Bassanio was very unhappy to have so offended his dear lady, and
+he said with great earnestness:
+
+“No, by my honor, no woman had it, but a civil doctor who refused
+three thousand ducats of me and begged the ring, which when I
+denied him he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet
+Portia? I was so beset with shame for my seeming ingratitude that
+I was forced to send the ring after him. Pardon me, good lady.
+Had you been there, I think you would have begged the ring of me
+to give the worthy doctor.”
+
+“Ah!” said Antonio, “I am the unhappy cause of these quarrels.”
+
+Portia bid Antonio not to grieve at that, for that be was welcome
+notwithstanding; and then Antonio said:
+
+“I once did lend my body for Bassanio’s sake; and but for him to
+whom your husband gave the ring I should have now been dead. I
+dare be bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will
+never more break his faith with you.”
+
+“Then you shall be his surety,” said Portia. “Give him this ring
+and bid him keep it better than the other.”
+
+When Bassanio looked at this ring be was strangely surprised to
+find it was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him how
+she was the young counselor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and
+Bassanio found, to his unspeakable wonder and delight, that it
+was by the noble courage and wisdom of his wife that Antonio’s
+life was saved.
+
+And Portia again welcomed Antonio, and gave him letters which by
+some chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account
+of Antonio’s ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived
+in the harbor. So these tragical beginnings of this rich
+merchant’s story were all forgotten in the unexpected good
+fortune which ensued; and there was leisure to laugh at the
+comical adventure of the rings and the husbands that did not know
+their own wives, Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of rhyming
+speech, that--
+
+    While he lived, he’d fear no other thing
+    So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring.
+
+
+
+
+CYMBELINE
+
+
+During the time of Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, there
+reigned in England (which was then called Britain) a king whose
+name was Cymbeline.
+
+Cymbeline’s first wife died when his three children (two sons and
+a daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest of these
+children, was brought up in her father’s court; but by a strange
+chance the two sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery
+when the eldest was but three years of age and the youngest quite
+an infant; and Cymbeline could never discover what was become of
+them or by whom they were conveyed away.
+
+Cymbeline was twice married. His second wife was a wicked,
+plotting woman, and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline’s
+daughter by his first wife.
+
+The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son
+of her own by a former husband (she also having been twice
+married), for by this means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline
+to place the crown of Britain upon the head of her son Cloten;
+for she knew that, if the king’s sons were not found, the
+Princess Imogen must be the king’s heir. But this design was
+prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the consent or
+even knowledge of her father or the queen.
+
+Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen’s husband) was the
+best scholar and most accomplished gentleman of that age. His
+father died fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after
+his birth his mother died also for grief at the loss of her
+husband.
+
+Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan, took
+Posthumus (Cymbeline having given him that name because he was
+born after his father’s death), and educated him in his own
+court.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and
+were playfellows from their infancy; they loved each other
+tenderly when they were children, and, their affection continuing
+to increase with their years, when they grew up they privately
+married.
+
+The disappointed queen soon learned this secret, for she kept
+spies constantly in watch upon the actions of her stepdaughter,
+and she immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with
+Posthumus.
+
+Nothing could exceed the wrath of Cymbeline when he heard that
+his daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to
+marry a subject. He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain and
+banished him from his native country forever.
+
+The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she
+suffered at losing her husband, offered to procure them a private
+meeting before Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which
+place he had chosen for his residence in his banishment. This
+seeming kindness she showed the better to succeed in her future
+designs in regard to her son Cloten, for she meant to persuade
+Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage was not
+lawful, being contracted without the consent of the king.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each
+other. Imogen gave her husband a diamond ring which had been her
+mother’s, and Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and
+he fastened a bracelet on the arm of his wife, which he begged
+she would preserve with great care, as a token of his love; they
+then bade each other farewell, with many vows of everlasting love
+and fidelity.
+
+Imogen remained a solitary and dejected lady in her father’s
+court, and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for
+his banishment.
+
+Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of
+different nations, who were talking freely of ladies, each one
+praising the ladies of his own country and his own mistress.
+Posthumus, who had ever his own dear lady in his mind, affirmed
+that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the most virtuous, wise, and
+constant lady in the world.
+
+One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended
+that a lady of Britain should be so praised above the Roman
+ladies, his country-women, provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt
+the constancy of his so highly praised wife; and at length, after
+much altercation, Posthumus consented to a proposal of Iachimo’s
+that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain and endeavor to gain the
+love of the married Imogen. They then laid a wager that if
+Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design he was to forfeit a
+large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen’s favor, and
+prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so
+earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the
+wager was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring
+which was Imogen’s love present when she parted with her husband.
+Such firm faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen that he
+thought he ran no hazard in this trial of her honor.
+
+Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance and a
+courteous welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but
+when he began to make professions of love to her she repulsed him
+with disdain, and he soon found that he could have no hope of
+succeeding in his dishonorable design.
+
+The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have
+recourse to a stratagem to impose upon Posthumus, and for this
+purpose he bribed some of Imogen’s attendants and was by them
+conveyed into her bedchamber, concealed in a large trunk, where
+he remained shut up till Imogen.was retired to rest and had
+fallen asleep; and then, getting out of the trunk, he examined
+the chamber with great attention, and wrote down everything he
+saw there, and particularly noticed a mole which he observed upon
+Imogen’s neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her
+arm, which Posthumus had given to her, he retired into the chest
+again; and the next day he set off for Rome with great
+expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen had given him
+the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in her
+chamber. And in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: “Her
+bedchamber,” said he, “was hung with tapestry of silk and silver,
+the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a
+piece of work most bravely wrought.”
+
+“This is true,” said Posthumus; “but this you might have heard
+spoken of without seeing.”
+
+“Then the chimney,” said Iachimo, “is south of the chamber, and
+the chimneypiece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures livelier
+expressed.” “This is a thing you might have likewise heard,” said
+Posthumus; “for it is much talked of.”
+
+Iachimo as accurately described the roof of the chamber; and
+added, “I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking
+Cupids made of silver, each on one foot standing.’” He then took
+out the bracelet, and said: “Know you this jewel, sir? She gave
+me this. She took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty
+action did outsell her gift, and yet enriched it, too. She gave
+it me, and said, SHE PRIZED IT ONCE.” He last of all described
+the mole he had observed upon her neck.
+
+Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital in an
+agony of doubt, now broke out into the most passionate
+exclamations against Imogen. He delivered up the diamond ring to
+Iachimo which he had agreed to forfeit to him if he obtained the
+bracelet from Imogen.
+
+Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of
+Britain, who was one of Imogen’s attendants, and had long been a
+faithful friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he
+had of his wife’s disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take
+Imogen to Milford Haven, a seaport of Wales, and there kill her.
+And at the same time he wrote a deceitful letter to Imogen,
+desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that, finding he could live
+no longer without seeing her, though he was forbidden upon pain
+of death to return to Britain, he would come to Milford Haven, at
+which place he begged she would meet him. She, good, unsuspecting
+lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired more
+than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio,
+and the same night she received the letter she set out.
+
+When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though
+faithful to Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil
+deed, disclosed to Imogen the cruel order he had received.
+
+Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband,
+found herself doomed by that husband to suffer death, was
+afflicted beyond measure.
+
+Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort and wait with patient
+fortitude for the time when Posthumus should see and repent his
+injustice. In the mean time, as she refused in her distress to
+return to her father’s court, he advised her to dress herself in
+boy’s clothes for more security in traveling; to which advice she
+agreed, and thought in that disguise she would go over to Rome
+and see her husband, whom, though he had used her so barbarously,
+she could no-t forget to love.
+
+When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel he left her to
+her uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but
+before he departed he gave her a vial of cordial, which he said
+the queen had given him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders.
+
+The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen
+and Posthumus, gave him this vial, which she supposed contained
+poison, she having ordered her physician to give her some poison,
+to try its effects (as she said) upon animals; but the physician,
+knowing her malicious disposition, would not trust her with real
+poison, but gave her a drug which would do no other mischief than
+causing a person to sleep with every appearance of death for a
+few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a choice cordial,
+he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill upon
+the road, to take it; and so, with blessings and prayers for her
+safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he
+left her.
+
+Providence strangely directed Imogen’s steps to the dwelling of
+her two brothers who had been stolen away in their infancy.
+Bellarius, who stole them away, was a lord in the court of
+Cymbeline, and, having been falsely accused to the king of
+treason and banished from the court, in revenge he stole away the
+two sons of Cymbeline and brought them up in a forest, where he
+lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge, but he
+soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children,
+educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their
+princely spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as
+they subsisted by hunting, they were active and hardy, and were
+always pressing their supposed father to let them seek their
+fortune in the wars.
+
+At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen’s fortune to
+arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest through which .her
+road lay to Milford Haven (from which she meant to embark for
+Rome); and being unable to find any place where she could
+purchase food, she was, with weariness and hunger, almost dying;
+for it is not merely putting on a man’s apparel that will enable
+a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the fatigue of
+wandering about lonely forests like a man.. Seeing this cave, she
+entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure
+food. She found the cave empty, but, looking about, she
+discovered some cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing that
+she could not wait for an invitation, but sat down and began to
+eat.
+
+“Ah,” said she, talking to herself, “I see a man’s life is a
+tedious one. How tired am I! For two nights together I have made
+the ground my bed. My resolution helps me, or I should be sick.
+When Pisanio showed me Milford Haven from the mountain-top, how
+near it seemed!” Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel
+mandate came across her, and she said, “My dear Posthumus, thou
+art a false one!”
+
+The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their
+reputed father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home.
+Bellarius had given them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and
+they knew no better, but supposed that Bellarius was their
+father; but the real names of these princes were Guiderius and
+Arviragus.
+
+Bellarius entered the cave first, and, seeing Imogen, stopped
+them, saying: “ Come not in yet. It eats our victuals, or I
+should think it was a fairy.”
+
+“What is the matter, sir?” said the young men.
+
+“By Jupiter!” said Bellarius, again, “there is an angel in the
+cave, or if not, an earthly paragon.” So beautiful did Imogen
+look in her boy’s apparel.
+
+She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave and
+addressed them in these words: “Good masters, do not harm me.
+Before I entered your cave I had thought to have begged or bought
+what I have eaten. Indeed, I have stolen nothing, nor would I,
+though I had found gold strewed on the floor. Here is money for
+my meat, which I would have left on the board when I had made my
+meal, and parted with prayers for the provider.”
+
+They refused her money with great earnestness.
+
+“I see you are angry with me,” said the timid Imogen; “but, sirs,
+if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I
+had not made it.”
+
+“Whither are you bound,” asked Bellarius, “and what is your
+name?”
+
+“Fidele is my name,” answered Imogen. “I have a kinsman who is
+bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford Haven, to whom being
+going, almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offense.”
+
+“Prithee, fair youth,” said old Bellarius, “do not think us
+churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in.
+‘You are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have
+better cheer before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.
+Boys, bid him welcome.”
+
+The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their
+cave with many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or,
+as they said, HIM) as a brother; and they entered the cave, where
+(they having killed venison when they were hunting) Imogen
+delighted them with her neat housewifery, assisting them in
+preparing their supper; for, though it is not the custom now for
+young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and
+Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily
+expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced
+their broth, as if Juno had been sick and Fidele were her dieter.
+
+“And then,” said Polydore to his brother, “how angel-like he
+sings!”
+
+They also remarked to each other that though Fidele smiled so
+sweetly, yet so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face,
+as if grief and patience had together taken possession of him.
+
+For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near
+relationship, though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys
+called her, Fidele) became the doting-piece of her brothers, and
+she scarcely less loved them, thinking that but for the memory of
+her dear Posthumus she could live and die in the cave with these
+wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to stay with them
+till she was enough rested from the fatigue of traveling to
+pursue her way to Milford Haven.
+
+When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going
+out to hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she
+was unwell. Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband’s
+
+cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest,
+was the cause of her illness.
+
+They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all
+the way the noble parts and graceful demeanor of the youth
+Fidele.
+
+Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected the cordial
+Pisanio had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into
+a sound and deathlike sleep.
+
+When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore
+went first into the cave, and, supposing her asleep, pulled off
+his heavy shoes, that he might tread softly and not awake her (so
+did true gentleness spring up in the minds of these princely
+foresters); but he soon discovered that she could not be awakened
+by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and Polydore lamented
+over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had never
+from their infancy been parted.
+
+Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and
+there celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges, as was
+then the custom.
+
+Imogen’s two brothers then carried her to a shady covert, and
+there, laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose to her
+departed spirit, and, covering her over with leaves and flowers,
+Polydore said:
+
+“While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew
+thy grave. The pale primrose, that flower most like thy face; the
+bluebell, like thy clear veins; and the leaf of eglantine, which
+is not sweeter than was thy breath-all these will I strew over
+thee. Yea, and the furred moss in winter, when there are no
+flowers to cover thy sweet corse.”
+
+When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed, very
+sorrowful.
+
+Imogen had not been long left alone when, the effect of the
+sleepy drug going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the
+slight covering of leaves and flowers they had thrown over her,
+she arose, and, imagining she had been dreaming, she said:
+
+“I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. How
+came I here covered with flowers?”
+
+Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing
+nothing of her new companions, she concluded it was certainly all
+a dream; and once more Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage,
+hoping at last she should find her way to Milford Haven, and
+thence get a passage in some ship bound for Italy; for all her
+thoughts were still with her husband, Posthumus, whom she
+intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
+
+But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen
+knew nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman
+Emperor Augustus Caesar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a
+Roman army had landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into
+the very forest over which Imogen was journeying. With this army
+came Posthumus.
+
+Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army, he did
+not mean to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but
+intended to join the army of Britain and fight in the cause of
+his king who had banished him.
+
+He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he
+had so fondly loved, and by his own orders, too (Pisanio having
+written him a letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that
+Imogen was dead), sat heavy on his heart, and therefore he
+returned to Britain, desiring either to be slain in battle or to
+be put to death by Cymbeline for returning home from banishment.
+
+Imogen, before she reached Milford Haven, fell into the hands of
+the Roman army, and, her presence and deportment recommending
+her, she was made a page to Lucius, the Roman general.
+
+Cymbeline’s army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they
+entered this forest Polydore and Cadwal joined the king’s army.
+The young men were eager to engage in acts of valor, though they
+little thought they were going to fight for their own royal
+father; and old Bellarius went with them to the battle.
+
+He had long since repented of the injury he had done to Cymbeline
+in carrying away his sons; and, having been a warrior in his
+youth, he gladly joined the army to fight for the king he had so
+injured.
+
+And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the
+Britons would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed,
+but for the extraordinary valor of Posthumus and Bellarius and
+the two sons of Cymbeline. They rescued the king and saved his
+life, and so entirely turned the fortune of the day that the
+Britons gained the victory.
+
+When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death
+he sought for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of
+Cymbeline, willing to suffer the death which was to be his
+punishment if he returned from banishment.
+
+Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners and brought
+before Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy, Iachimo, who was an
+officer in the Roman army. And when these prisoners were before
+the king, Posthumus was brought in to receive his sentence of
+death; and at this strange juncture of time Bellarius with
+Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before Cymbeline, to
+receive the rewards due to the great services they had by their
+valor done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king’s
+attendants, was likewise present.
+
+Therefore there were now standing in the king’s presence (but
+with very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with
+her new master the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio
+and the false friend Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of
+Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who had stolen them away.
+
+The Roman general was the first who spoke; the rest stood silent
+before the king, though there was many a beating heart among
+them.
+
+Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise
+of a peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire. And she
+knew Iachimo, and she saw a ring on his finger which she
+perceived to be her own., but she did not know him as yet to have
+been the author of all her troubles; and she stood before her own
+father a prisoner of war.
+
+Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the
+garb of a boy. “It is my mistress,” thought he. “Since she is
+living, let the time run on to good or bad.” Bellarius knew her,
+too, and softly said to Cadwal, “Is not this boy revived from
+death?”
+
+“One sand,” replied Cadwal, “does not more resemble another than
+that sweet, rosy lad is like the dead Fidele.”
+
+“The same dead thing alive,” said Polydore.
+
+“Peace, peace,” said Bellarius. “If it were he, I am sure be
+would have spoken to us.”
+
+“But we saw him dead,”, again whispered Polydore.
+
+“Be silent,” replied Bellarius.
+
+Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his
+own death; and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he
+had saved his life in the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline
+to pardon him.
+
+Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his
+protection as his page, was the first (as has been before said)
+who spoke to the king. He was a man of high courage and noble and
+this was his speech to the king:
+
+“I hear you take no ransom for your prisoners, but doom them all
+to death. I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer,
+death. But there is one thing for which I would entreat.” Then
+bringing Imogen before the king, he said: “This boy is a Briton
+born. Let him be ransomed. He is my page. Never master had a page
+so kind, so duteous, so diligent on all occasions, so true, so
+nurselike. He hath done no Briton wrong, though he hath served a
+Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside.”
+
+Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her
+not in that disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature
+spake in his heart, for he said: “I have surely seen him; his
+face appears familiar to me. I know not why or wherefore I say,
+live, boy, but I give you your life; and ask of me what boon you
+will and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it be the life of
+the noblest prisoner I have.”
+
+“I humbly thank your Highness,” said Imogen.
+
+What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to
+give any one thing, whatever it might be,. that the person on
+whom that favor was conferred chose to ask for.
+
+They all were attentive to hear what thing the page would ask
+for; and Lucius, her master, said to her:
+
+“I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will
+ask for.”
+
+“No, no, alas!” said Imogen. “I have other work in hand, good
+master. Your life I cannot ask for.”
+
+This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman
+general.
+
+Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon
+than this: that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had
+the ring he wore on his finger.
+
+Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the
+torture if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on
+his finger.
+
+Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villainy, in
+telling, as has been before related, the whole story of his wager
+with Posthumus and how he had succeeded in imposing upon is
+credulity.
+
+What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence of his
+lady cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward and confessed
+to Cymbeline the cruel sentence which he had enjoined Pisanio to
+execute upon the princess, exclaiming, wildly:
+
+“O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!”
+
+Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without
+discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was
+thus relieved from a weight of guilt and woe, and restored to the
+good graces of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
+
+Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding
+his lost daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her
+former place in his fatherly affection, and not only gave her
+husband Posthumus his life, but consented to acknowledge him for
+his son-in-law.
+
+Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation to make his
+confession. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling
+him they were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
+
+Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of
+punishments at a season of such universal happiness? To find his
+daughter living, and his lost sons in the persons of his young
+deliverers, that he had seen so bravely fight in his defense, was
+unlooked-for joy indeed!
+
+Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late
+master, the Roman general, Lucius, whose life the king, her
+father, readily granted at her request; and by the mediation of
+the same Lucius a peace was concluded between the Romans and the
+Britons which was kept inviolate many years.
+
+How Cymbeline’s wicked queen, through despair of bringing her
+projects to pass, and touched with remorse of conscience,
+sickened and died, having first lived to see her foolish son
+Cloten slain in a quarrel which he had provoked, are events too
+tragical to interrupt this happy conclusion by more than merely
+touching upon. It is sufficient that all were made happy who were
+deserving; and even the treacherous Iachimo, in consideration of
+his villainy having missed its final aim, was dismissed without
+punishment.
+
+
+
+
+KING LEAR
+
+
+Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters: Goneril, wife to the
+Duke of Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and
+Cordelia, a young maid, for whose love the King of France and
+Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors, and were at this time making
+stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
+
+The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government,
+he being more than fourscore years old, determined to take no
+further part in state affairs, but to leave the management to
+younger strengths, that he might have time to prepare for death,
+which must at no long period ensue. With this intent he called
+his three daughters to him, to know from their own lips which of
+them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among them in
+such proportions as their affection for him should seem to
+deserve.
+
+Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than
+words could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of
+her own eyes, dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such
+professing stuff, which is easy to counterfeit where there is no
+real love, only a few fine words delivered with confidence being
+wanted in that case. The king, delighted to hear from her own
+mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly that her
+heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon
+her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
+
+Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had
+to say. Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her
+sister, was not a whit behind in her professions, but rather
+declared that what her sister had spoken came short of the love
+which she professed to bear for his Highness; in so much that she
+found all other joys dead in comparison with the pleasure which
+she took in the love of her dear king and father.
+
+Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he
+thought; and could do no less, after the handsome assurances
+which Regan had made, than bestow a third of his kingdom upon her
+and her husband, equal in size to that which he had already
+given away to Goneril.
+
+Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called
+his joy, he asked what she had to say,thinking no doubt that she
+would glad his ears with the same loving speeches which her
+sisters had uttered, or rather that her expressions would be so
+much stronger than theirs, as she had always been his darling,
+and favored by him above either of them. But Cordelia, disgusted
+with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she knew were far
+from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches were
+only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that
+they and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no
+other reply but this--that she loved his Majesty according to her
+duty, neither more nor less.
+
+The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his
+favorite child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her
+speech, lest it should mar her fortunes.
+
+Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had
+given her breeding, and loved her; that she returned those duties
+back as was most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor
+him. But that she could not frame her mouth to such large
+speeches as her sisters had done, or promise to love nothing else
+in the world. Why had her sisters husbands if (as they said) they
+had no love for anything but their father? If she should ever
+wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would
+want half her love, half of her care and duty; she should never
+marry like her sisters, to love her father all.
+
+Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost
+extravagantly as her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly
+told him so at any other time, in more daughter-like and loving
+terms, and without these qualifications, which did indeed sound a
+little ungracious; but after the crafty, flattering speeches of
+her sisters, which she had seen draw such extravagant rewards,
+she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to love and be
+silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary
+ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain; and that her
+professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the
+more of truth and sincerity than her sisters’.
+
+This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the
+old monarch--who in his best of times always showed much of
+spleen and rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age
+had so clouded over his reason that he could not discern truth
+from flattery, nor a gaypainted speech from words that came from
+the heart--that in a fury of resentment he retracted the third
+part of his kingdom which yet remained, and which he had reserved
+for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing it equally
+between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany
+and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all
+his courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them
+jointly with all the power, revenue, and execution of government,
+only retaining to himself the name of king; all the rest of
+royalty he resigned, with this reservation, that himself, with a
+hundred knights for his attendants, was to be maintained by
+monthly course in each of his daughters’ palaces in turn.
+
+So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by
+reason, and so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with
+astonishment and sorrow; but none of them had the courage to
+interpose between this incensed king and his wrath, except the
+Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good word for
+Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him
+to desist; but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had
+been ever loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as
+a father, followed as a master; and he had never esteemed his
+life further than as a pawn to wage against his royal master’s
+enemies, nor feared to lose it when Lear’s safety was the motive;
+nor, now that Lear was most his own enemy, did this faithful
+servant of the king forget his old principles, but manfully
+opposed Lear to do Lear good; and was unmannerly only because
+Lear was mad. He had been a most faithful counselor in times past
+to the king, and he besought him now that he would see with his
+eyes (as he had done in many weighty matters) and go by his
+advice still, and in his best consideration recall this hideous
+rashness; for he would answer with his life his judgment that
+Lear’s youngest daughter did not love him least, nor were those
+empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of hollowness. When
+power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness. For Lear’s
+threats, what could he do to him whose life was already at his
+service? That should not hinder duty from speaking.
+
+The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the
+king’s wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his
+physician and loves his mortal disease, he banished this true
+servant, and allotted him but five days to make his preparations
+for departure; but if on the sixth his hated person was found
+within the realm of Britain, that moment was to be his death. And
+Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he chose to
+show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay
+there; and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the
+protection of the gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and
+so discreetly spoken; and only wished that her sisters’ large
+speeches might be answered with deeds of love; and then he went,
+as he said, to shape his old course to a new country.
+
+The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to
+hear the determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and
+to know whether they would persist in their courtship to
+Cordelia, now that she was under her father’s displeasure and had
+no fortune but her own person to recommend her. And the Duke of
+Burgundy declined the match, and would not take her to wife upon
+such conditions. But the King of France, understanding what the
+nature of the fault had been which had lost her the love of her
+father--that it was only a tardiness of speech and the not being
+able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters--took this
+young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry
+above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters
+and of her father, though he had been unkind, and she should go
+with him and be Queen of him and of fair France, and reign over
+fairer possessions than her sisters. And he called the Duke of
+Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke, because his love for this
+young maid had in a moment run all away like water.
+
+Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and
+besought them to love their father well and make good their
+professions; and they sullenly told her not to prescribe to them,
+for they knew their duty, but to strive to content her husband,
+who had taken her (as they tauntingly expressed it) as Fortune’s
+alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart departed, for she knew the
+cunning of her sisters and she wished her father in better hands
+than she was about to leave him in.
+
+Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her
+sisters began to show themselves ‘in their true colors. Even
+before the expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend
+by agreement ,with his , daughter, Goneril, the old king began to
+find out the difference between promises and performances. This
+wretch, having got from her father all that he had to bestow,
+even to the giving away of the crown from off his head, began to
+grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the old man had
+reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of being
+still a king. She could not bear to see him and his knights.
+Every time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance;
+and when the old man wanted to speak with her she would feign
+sickness or anything to get rid of the sight of him, for it was
+plain that she esteemed his old age a useless burden and his
+attendants an unnecessary expense; not only she herself slackened
+in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her example, and
+(it is to be feared) not without her private instructions, her
+very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would
+either refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously
+pretend not to hear them. Lear could not but perceive this
+alteration in the behavior of his daughter, but he shut his eyes
+against it as long as he could, as people commonly are unwilling
+to believe the unpleasant consequences which their own mistakes
+and obstinacy have brought upon them.
+
+True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than
+falsehood and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by GOOD,
+USAGE. This eminently appears in the instance of the good Earl of
+Kent, who, though banished by Lear, and his life made forfeit if
+he were found in Britain, chose to stay and abide all
+consequences as long as there was a chance of his being useful to
+the king his master. See to what mean shifts and disguises poor
+loyalty is forced to submit sometimes; yet it counts nothing base
+or unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an
+obligation! In the disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness
+and pomp laid aside, this good earl proffered his services to the
+king, who, not knowing him to be Kent in that disguise, but
+pleased with a certain plainness, or rather bluntness, in his
+answers, which the earl put on (so different from that smooth,
+oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having
+found the effects not answerable in his daughter), a bargain was
+quickly struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name
+of Caius, as he called himself, never suspecting him to be his
+once great favorite, the high and mighty Earl of Kent.
+
+This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to
+his royal master, for, Goneril’s steward that same day behaving
+in a disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and
+language, as no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his
+mistress, Caius, not enduring to hear so open an affront put upon
+his Majesty, made no more ado, but presently tripped up his heels
+and laid the unmannerly slave in the kennel; for which friendly
+service Lear became more and more attached to him.
+
+Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far
+as so insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor
+fool, or jester, that had been of his palace while Lear had a
+palace, as it was the custom of kings and great personages at
+that time to keep a fool (as he was called) to make them sport
+after serious business--this poor fool clung to Lear after he had
+given away his crown, and by his witty sayings would keep up his
+good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from jeering at
+his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving
+all away to his daughters; at which time, as he rhymingly
+expressed it, these daughters--
+
+   “For sudden joy did weep,
+       And I for sorrow sung,
+   That such a king should play bo-peep
+       And go the fools among.”
+
+And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had
+plenty, this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in
+the presence of Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest
+which cut to the quick, such as comparing the king to the
+hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the cuckoo till they grow
+old enough, and then has its head bit off for its pains; and
+saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse
+(meaning that Lear’s daughters, that ought to go behind, now
+ranked before their father); and that Lear was no longer Lear,
+but the shadow of Lear. For which free speeches he was once or
+twice threatened to be whipped.
+
+The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to
+perceive were not all which this foolish fond father was to
+suffer from his unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that
+his staying in her palace was inconvenient so long as he insisted
+upon keeping up an establishment of a hundred knights; that this
+establishment was useless and expensive and only served to fill
+her court with riot and feasting; and she prayed him that he
+would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him,
+such as himself, and fitting his age.
+
+Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was
+his daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she
+who had received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train
+and grudge him the respect due to his old age. But she persisting
+in her undutiful demand, the old man’s rage was so excited that
+he called her a detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth;
+and so indeed she did, for the hundred knights were all men of
+choice behavior and sobriety of manners, skilled in all
+particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or feasting, as she
+said. And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would go to
+his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights; and he
+spoke of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and
+showed more hideous in a child than the sea-monster. And he
+cursed his eldest daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear,
+praying that she might never have a child, or, if she had, that
+it might live to return that scorn and contempt upon her which
+she had shown to him; that she might feel how sharper than a
+serpent’s tooth it was to have a thankless child. And Goneril’s
+husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to excuse himself for any
+share which Lear might suppose he had in the unkindness, Lear
+would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses to be
+saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan,
+his other daughter. And Lear thought to himself how small the
+fault of Cordelia (if it was a fault) now appeared in comparison
+with her sister’s, and he wept; and then he was ashamed that such
+a creature as Goneril should have so much power over his manhood
+as to make him weep.
+
+Regan and her husband were keeping their court in great pomp and
+state at their palace; and Lear despatched his servant Caius with
+letters to his daughter, that she might be prepared for his
+reception, while he and his train followed after. But it seems
+that Goneril had been beforehand with him, sending letters also
+to Regan, accusing her father of waywardness and ill-humors, and
+advising her not to receive so great a train as he was bringing
+with him. This messenger arrived at the same time with Caius, and
+Caius and he met, and who should it be but Caius’s old enemy the
+steward, whom he had formerly tripped up by the heels for his
+saucy behavior to Lear. Caius not liking the fellow’s look, and,
+suspecting what he came for, began to revile him and challenged
+him to fight, which the fellow refusing, Caius, in a fit of
+honest passion, beat him soundly, as such a mischief-maker and
+carrier of wicked messages deserved; which coming to the ears of
+Regan and her husband, they ordered Caius to be put in the
+stocks, though he was a messenger from the king her father and in
+that character demanded the highest respect. So that the first
+thing the king saw when he entered the castle was his faithful
+servant Caius sitting in that disgraceful situation.
+
+This was but a bad omen of the reception which he was to expect;
+but a worse followed when, upon inquiry for his daughter and her
+husband, he was told they were weary with traveling all night and
+could not see him; and when, lastly, upon his insisting in a
+positive and angry manner to see them, they came to greet him,
+whom should he see in their company but the hated Goneril, who
+had come to tell her own story and set her sister against the
+king her father!
+
+This sight much moved the old man, and still more to see Regan
+take her by the hand; and he asked Goneril if she was not ashamed
+to look upon his old white beard. And Regan advised him to go
+home again with Goneril, and live with her peaceably, dismissing
+half of his attendants, and to ask her forgiveness; for he was
+old and wanted discretion, and must be ruled and led by persons
+that had more discretion than himself. And Lear showed how
+preposterous that would sound, if he were to go down on his knees
+and beg of his own daughter for food and raiment; and he argued
+against such an unnatural dependence, declaring his resolution
+never to return with her, but to stay where he was with Regan, he
+and his hundred knights; for he said that she had not forgot the
+half of the kingdom which he had endowed her with, and that her
+eyes were not fierce like Goneril’s, but mild and kind. And he
+said that rather than return to Goneril, with half his train cut
+off, he would go over to France and beg a wretched pension of the
+king there, who had married his youngest daughter without a
+portion.
+
+But he was mistaken in expecting kinder treatment of Regan than
+he had experienced from her sister Goneril. As if willing to
+outdo her sister in unfilial behavior, she declared that she
+thought fifty knights too many to wait upon him; that
+five-and-twenty were enough. Then Lear, nigh heartbroken, turned
+to Goneril and said that he would go back with her, for her fifty
+doubled five-and-twenty, and so her love was twice as much as
+Regan’s. But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so
+many as five-and twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be
+waited upon by her servants or her sister’s servants? So these
+two wicked daughters, as if they strove to exceed each other in
+cruelty to their old father, who had been so good to them, by
+little and little would have abated him of all his train, all
+respect (little enough for him that once commanded a kingdom)
+which was left him to show that he had once been a king! Not that
+a splendid train is essential to happiness, but from a king to a
+beggar is a hard change, from commanding millions to be without
+one attendant; and it was the ingratitude in his daughters’
+denying more than what he would suffer by the want of it, which
+pierced this poor king to the heart; in so much that, with this
+double ill-usage, and vexation for having so foolishly given away
+a kingdom, his wits began to be unsettled, and while he said he
+knew not what, he vowed revenge against those unnatural hags and
+to make examples of them that should be a terror to the earth!
+
+While he was thus idly threatening what his weak arm could never
+execute, night came on, and a loud storm of thunder and lightning
+with rain; and his daughters still persisting in their resolution
+not to admit his followers, he called for his horses, and chose
+rather to encounter the utmost fury of the storm abroad than stay
+under the same roof with these ungrateful daughters; and they,
+saying that the injuries which wilful men procure to themselves
+are their just punishment, suffered him to go in that condition
+and shut their doors upon him.
+
+The winds were high, and the rain and storm increased, when the
+old man sallied forth to combat with the elements, less sharp
+than his daughters’ unkindness. For many miles about there was
+scarce a bush; and there upon a heath, exposed to the fury of the
+storm in a dark night, did King Lear wander out, and defy the
+winds and the thunder; and he bid the winds to blow the earth
+into the sea, or swell the waves of the sea till they drowned the
+earth, that no token might remain of any such ungrateful animal
+as man. The old king was now left with no other companion than
+the poor fool, who still abided with him, with his merry conceits
+striving to outjest misfortune, saying it was but a naughty night
+to swim in, and truly the king had better go in and ask his
+daughter’s blessing:
+
+    But he that has a little tiny wit--
+       With heigh ho, the wind and the rain,--
+    Must make content with his fortunes fit
+       Though the rain it raineth every day,
+
+and swearing it was a brave night to cool a lady’s pride.
+
+Thus poorly accompanied, this once great monarch was found by his
+ever-faithful servant the good Earl of Kent, now transformed to
+Caius, who ever followed close at his side, though the king did
+not know him to be the earl; and be said:
+
+“Alas, sir, are you here? Creatures that love night love not such
+nights as these. This dreadful storm has driven the beasts to
+their hiding-places. Man’s nature cannot endure the affliction or
+the fear.”
+
+And Lear rebuked him and said these lesser evils were not felt
+where a greater malady was fixed. When the mind is at ease the
+body has leisure to be delicate, but the tempest in his mind did
+take all feeling else from his senses but of that which beat at
+his heart. And he spoke of filial ingratitude, and said it was
+all one as if the mouth should tear the hand for lifting food to
+it; for parents were hands and food and everything to children.
+
+But the good Caius still persisting in his entreaties that the
+king would not stay out in the open air, at last persuaded him to
+enter a little wretched hovel which stood upon the heath, where
+the fool first entering, suddenly ran back terrified, saying that
+he had seen a spirit. But upon examination this spirit proved to
+be nothing more than a poor Bedlam beggar who had crept into this
+deserted hovel for shelter, and with his talk about devils
+frighted the fool, one of those poor lunatics who are either mad,
+or feign to be so, the better to extort charity from the
+compassionate country people, who go about the country calling
+themselves poor Tom and poor Turlygood, saying, “Who gives
+anything to poor Tom?” sticking pins and nails and sprigs of
+rosemary into their arms to make them bleed; and with horrible
+actions, partly by prayers, and partly with lunatic curses, they
+move or terrify the ignorant country folk into giving them alms.
+This poor fellow was such a one; and the king, seeing him in so
+wretched a plight, with nothing but a blanket about his loins to
+cover his nakedness, could not be persuaded but that the fellow
+was some father who had given all away to his daughters and
+brought himself to that pass; for nothing, he thought, could
+bring a man to such wretchedness but the having unkind daughters.
+
+And from this and many such wild speeches which he uttered the
+good Caius plainly perceived that he was not in his perfect mind,
+but that his daughters’ ill-usage had really made him go mad. And
+now the loyalty of this worthy Earl of Kent showed itself in more
+essential services than he had hitherto found opportunity to
+perform. For with the assistance of some of the king’s attendants
+who remained loyal he had the person of his royal master removed
+at daybreak to the castle of Dover, where his own friends and
+influence, as Earl of Kent, chiefly lay; and himself, embarking
+for France, hastened to the court of Cordelia, and did there in
+such moving terms represent the pitiful condition of her royal
+father, and set out in such lively colors the inhumanity of her
+sisters, that this good and loving child with many tears besought
+the king, her husband, that he would give her leave to embark for
+England, with a sufficient power to subdue these cruel daughters
+and their husbands and restore the old king, her father, to his
+throne; which being granted, she set forth, and with a royal army
+landed at Dover.
+
+Lear, having by some chance escaped from the guardians which’ the
+good Earl of Kent had put over him to take care of him in his
+lunacy, was found by some of Cordelia’s train, wandering about
+the fields near Dover, in a pitiable condition, stark mad, and
+singing aloud to himself, with a crown upon his head which he had
+made of straw and nettles and other wild weeds that he had picked
+up in the corn-fields. By the advice of the physicians, Cordelia,
+though earnestly desirous of seeing her father, was prevailed
+upon to put off the meeting till, by sleep and the operation of
+herbs which they gave him, he should be restored to greater
+composure. By the aid of these skilful physicians, to whom
+Cordelia promised all her gold and jewels for the recovery of the
+old king, Lear was soon in a condition to see his daughter.
+
+A tender sight it was to see the meeting between this father and
+daughter; to see the struggles between the joy of this poor old
+king at beholding again his once darling child, and the shame at
+receiving such filial kindness from her whom he had cast off for
+so small a fault in his displeasure; both these passions
+struggling with the remains of his malady, which in his
+half-crazed brain sometimes made him that he scarce remembered
+where he was or who it was tb at so kindly kissed him and spoke
+to him. And then he would beg the standers-by not to laugh at him
+if he were mistaken in thinking this lady to be his daughter
+Cordelia! And then to see him fall on his knees to beg pardon of
+his child; and she, good lady, kneeling all the while to ask a
+blessing of him, and telling him that it did not become him to
+kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his child, his true and
+very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said) to kiss
+away all her sisters’ unkindness, and said that they might be
+ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his
+white beard out into the cold air, when her enemy’s dog, though
+it had bit her (as she prettily expressed it), should have stayed
+by her fire such a night as that, and warmed himself. And she
+told her father how she had come from France with purpose to
+bring him assistance; and he said that she must forget and
+forgive, for he was old and foolish and did not know what he did;
+but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but her
+sisters had none. And Cordelia said that she had no cause, no
+more than they had.
+
+So we will leave this old king in the protection of his dutiful
+and loving child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she
+and her physicians at length succeeded in winding up the untuned
+and jarring senses which the cruelty of his other daughters had
+so violently shaken. Let us return to say a word or two about
+those cruel daughters.
+
+These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old
+father, could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own
+husbands. They soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of
+duty and affection, and in an open way showed they had fixed
+their loves upon another. It happened that the object of their
+guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a natural son of the
+late Earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had succeeded in
+disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his
+earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a
+wicked man, and a fit object for the love of such wicked
+creatures as Goneril and Regan. It falling out about this time
+that the Duke of Cornwall, Regan’s husband, died, Regan
+immediately declared her intention of wedding this Earl of
+Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as
+well as to Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed
+love, Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison;
+but being detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her
+husband, the Duke of Albany, for this deed, and for her guilty
+passion for the earl which had come to his ears, she, in a fit of
+disappointed love and rage, shortly put an end to her own life.
+Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these wicked
+daughters.
+
+While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the
+justice displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were
+suddenly taken off from this sight to admire at the mysterious
+ways of the same power in the melancholy fate of the young and
+virtuous daughter, the Lady Cordelia, whose good deeds did seem
+to deserve a more fortunate conclusion. But it is an awful truth
+that innocence and piety are not always successful in this world.
+The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the command
+of the bad Earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by
+the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any
+should stand between him and the throne, ended her life in
+prison. Thus heaven took this innocent lady to itself in her
+young years, after showing her to the world an illustrious
+example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive this kind
+child.
+
+Before he died, the good Earl of Kent, who had still attended his
+old master’s steps from the first of his daughters’ ill-usage to
+this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that
+it was he who had followed him under the name of Caius; but
+Lear’s care-crazed brain at that time could not comprehend how
+that could be, or how Kent and Caius could be the same person, so
+Kent thought it needless to trouble him with explanations at such
+a time; and, Lear soon after expiring, this faithful servant to
+the king, between age and grief for his old master’s vexations,
+soon followed him to the grave.
+
+How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad Earl of Gloucester,
+whose treasons were discovered, and himself slain in single
+combat with his brother, the lawful earl, and how Goneril’s
+husband, the Duke of Albany, who was innocent of the death of
+Cordelia, and had never encouraged his lady in her wicked
+proceedings against her father, ascended the throne of Britain
+after the death of Lear, it is needless here to narrate, Lear and
+his three daughters being dead, whose adventures alone concern
+our story.
+
+
+
+
+MACBETH
+
+
+When Duncan the Meek reigned King of Scotland there lived a great
+thane, or lord, called Macbeth. This Macbeth was a near kinsman
+to the king, and in great esteem at court for his valor and
+conduct in the wars, an example of which he had lately given in
+defeating a rebel army assisted by the troops of Norway in
+terrible numbers.
+
+The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and Banquo, returning
+victorious from this great battle, their way lay over a blasted
+heath, where they were stopped by the strange appearance of three
+figures like women, except that they had beards, and their
+withered skins and wild attire made them look not like any
+earthly creatures. Macbeth first addressed them, when they,
+seemingly offended, laid each one her choppy finger upon her
+skinny lips, in token of silence; and the first of them saluted
+Macbeth with the title of Thane of Glamis. The general was not a
+little startled to find himself known by such creatures; but how
+much more, when the second of them followed up that salute by
+giving him the title of Thane of Cawdor, to which honor he had no
+pretensions; and again the third bid him, “All hail! that shalt
+be king hereafter!” Such a prophetic greeting might well amaze
+him, who knew that while the king’s sons lived he could not hope
+to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo, they pronounced
+him, in a sort of riddling terms, to be LESSER THAN MACBETH, AND
+GREATER! NOT SO HAPPY, BUT MUCH HAPPIER! and prophesied that
+though he should never reign, yet his sons after him should be
+kings in Scotland. They then turned into air and vanished; by
+which the generals knew them to be the weird sisters, or witches.
+
+While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adventure
+there arrived certain messengers from the king, who were
+empowered by him to confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of
+Cawdor. An event so miraculously corresponding with the
+prediction of the witches astonished Macbeth, and he stood
+wrapped in amazement, unable to make reply to the messengers; and
+in that point of time swelling hopes arose in his mind that the
+prediction of the third witch might in like manner have its
+accomplishment, and that he should one day reign king in
+Scotland.
+
+Turning to Banquo, he said, “Do you not hope that your children
+shall be kings, when what the witches promised to me has so
+wonderfully come to pass?”
+
+“That hope,” answered the general, “might enkindle you to aim at
+the throne; but oftentimes these ministers of darkness tell us
+truths in little things, to betray us into deeds of greatest
+consequence.”
+
+But the wicked suggestions of the witches had sunk too deep into
+the mind of Macbeth to allow him to attend to the warnings of the
+good Banquo. From that time he bent all his thoughts how to
+compass the throne of Scotland.
+
+Macbeth had a wife, to whom he communicated the strange
+prediction of the weird sisters and its partial accomplishment.
+She was a bad, ambitious woman, and so as her husband and herself
+could arrive at greatness she cared not much by what means. She
+spurred on the reluctant purpose of Macbeth, who felt compunction
+at the thoughts of blood, and did not cease to represent the
+murder of the king as a step absolutely necessary to the
+fulfilment of the flattering prophecy.
+
+It happened at this time that the king, who out of his royal
+condescension would oftentimes visit his principal nobility upon
+gracious terms, came to Macbeth’s house, attended by his two
+sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, and a numerous train of thanes and
+attendants, the more to honor Macbeth for the triumphal success
+of his wars.
+
+The castle of Macbeth was pleasantly situated and the air about
+it was sweet and wholesome, which appeared by the nests which the
+martlet, or swallow, had built under all the jutting friezes and
+buttresses of the building, wherever it found a place of
+advantage; for where those birds most breed and haunt the air is
+observed to be delicate. The king entered, well pleased with the
+place, and not less so with the attentions and respect of his
+honored hostess, Lady Macbeth, who had the art of covering
+treacherous purposes with smiles, and could look like the
+innocent flower while she was indeed serpent under it.
+
+The king, being tired with his journey, went early to bed, and in
+his state-room two grooms of his chamber (as was the custom)
+beside him. He had been unusually pleased with his reception, and
+had made presents before he retired to his principal ; and among
+the rest had sent a diamond to Lady Macbeth, greeting the name of
+his most kind hostess.
+
+Now was the middle of night, when over half the world nature
+seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse men’s minds asleep, and none
+but the wolf and the murderer are abroad. This was the time when
+Lady Macbeth waked to plot the murder of the king. She would not
+have undertaken a deed so abhorrent to her sex but that she
+feared her husband’s nature, that it was too full of the milk of
+human kindness to do a contrived murder. She knew him to be
+ambitious, but withal to be scrupulous, and not yet prepared for
+that height of crime which commonly in the end accompanies
+inordinate ambition. She had won him to consent to the murder,
+but she doubted his resolution; and she feared that the natural
+tenderness of his disposition (more humane than her own) would
+come between and defeat the purpose. So with her own hands armed
+with a dagger she approached the king’s bed, having taken care to
+ply the grooms of his chamber so with wine that they slept
+intoxicated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan in a
+sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed
+him earnestly there was something in his face, as he slept, which
+resembled her own father, and she had not the courage to proceed.
+
+She returned to confer with her husband. His resolution had begun
+to stagger. He considered that there were strong reasons against
+the deed. In the first place, he was not only a subject, but a
+near kinsman to the king; and he had been his host and
+entertainer that day, whose duty, by the laws of hospitality, it
+was to shut the door against his murderers, not bear the knife
+himself. Then he considered how just and merciful a king this
+Duncan had been, how clear of offense to his subjects, how loving
+to his nobility, and in particular to him; that such kings are
+the peculiar care of Heaven, and their subjects doubly bound to
+revenge their deaths. Besides, by the favors of the king, Macbeth
+stood high in the opinion of all sorts of men, and how would
+those honors be stained by the reputation of so foul a murder!
+
+In these conflicts of the mind Lady Macbeth found her husband
+inclining to the better part and resolving to proceed no further.
+But she, being a woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose,
+began to pour in at his ears words which infused a portion of her
+own spirit into his mind, assigning reason upon reason why he
+should not shrink from what he had undertaken; how easy the deed
+was; how soon it would be over; and how the action of one short
+night would give to all their nights and days to come sovereign
+sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on his change of
+purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cowardice; and
+declared that she had given suck, and knew how tender it was to
+love the babe that milked her, but she would, while it was
+smiling in her face, have plucked it from her breast and dashed
+its brains out if she had so sworn to do it as he had sworn to
+perform that murder. Then she added, how practicable it was to
+lay the guilt of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And
+with the valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish
+resolutions that he once more summoned up courage to the bloody
+business.
+
+So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark to
+the room where Duncan lay; and as he went he thought he saw
+another dagger in the air, with the handle toward him, and on the
+blade and at the point of it drops of blood; but when be tried to
+grasp at it it was nothing but air, a mere phantasm proceeding
+from his own hot and oppressed brain and the business he had in
+hand.
+
+Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king’s room, whom he
+despatched with one stroke of his dagger. just as he had done the
+murder one of the grooms who slept in the chamber laughed in his
+sleep, and the other cried, “Murder,” which woke them both.
+
+But they said a short prayer; one of them said, “God less us!”
+ and the other answered, “Amen”; and addressed themselves to sleep
+again. Macbeth, who stood listening to them, tried to say “Amen”
+ when the fellow said “God bless us!” but, though he had most need
+of a blessing, the word stuck in his throat and he could not
+pronounce it.
+
+Again he thought he heard a voice which cried: “Sleep no more!
+Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, that nourishes
+life.” Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all the house. “Glamis
+hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,
+Macbeth shall sleep no more.”
+
+With such horrible imaginations Macbeth returned to his listening
+wife, who began to think he had failed of his purpose and that
+the deed was somehow frustrated. He came in so distracted a state
+that she reproached him with his want of firmness and sent him to
+wash his hands of the blood which stained them, while she took
+his dagger, with purpose to stain the cheeks of the grooms with
+blood, to make it seem their guilt.
+
+Morning came, and with it the discovery of the murder, which
+could not be concealed; and though Macbeth and his lady made
+great show of grief, and the proofs against the grooms (the
+dagger being produced against them and their faces smeared with
+blood) were sufficiently strong, yet the entire suspicion fell
+upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much more
+forcible than such poor silly grooms could be supposed to have;
+and Duncan’s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought for
+refuge in the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made
+his escape to Ireland.
+
+The king’s sons, who should have succeeded him, having thus
+vacated the throne, Macbeth as next heir was crowned king, and
+thus the prediction of the weird sisters was literally
+accomplished.
+
+Though placed so high, Macbeth and his queen could not forget the
+prophecy of the weird sisters that, though Macbeth should be
+king, yet not his children, but the children of Banquo, should be
+kings after him. The thought of this, and that they had defiled
+their hands with blood, and done so great crimes, only to place
+the posterity of Banquo upon the throne, so rankled within them
+that they determined to put to death both Banquo and his son, to
+make void the predictions of the weird sisters, which in their
+own case had been so remarkably brought to pass.
+
+For this purpose they made a great supper, to which they invited
+all the chief thanes; and among the rest, with marks of
+particular respect, Banquo and his son Fleance were invited. The
+way by which Banquo was to pass to the palace at night was beset
+by murderers appointed by Macbeth, who stabbed Banquo; but in the
+scuffle Fleance escaped. From that Fleance descended a race of
+monarchs who afterward filled the Scottish throne, ending with
+James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England, under whom
+the two crowns of England and Scotland were united.
+
+At supper, the queen, whose manners were in the highest degree
+affable and royal, played the hostess with a gracefulness and
+attention which conciliated every one present, and Macbeth
+discoursed freely with his thanes and nobles, saying that all
+that was honorable in the country was under his roof, if he had
+but his good friend Banquo present, whom yet he hoped he should
+rather have to chide for neglect than to lament for any
+mischance. just at these words the ghost of Banquo, whom he had
+caused to be murdered, entered the room and placed himself on the
+chair which Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a
+bold man, and one that could have faced the devil without
+trembling, at this horrible sight his cheeks turned white with
+fear and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes fixed upon the
+ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but
+perceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took
+it for a fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering
+that it was but the same fancy which made him see the dagger in
+the air when he was about to kill Duncan. But Macbeth continued
+to see the ghost, and gave no heed to all they could say, while
+he addressed it with distracted words, yet so significant that
+his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be disclosed, in
+great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity of
+Macbeth as disorder he was often troubled with.
+
+To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject. His queen and he
+had their sleeps afflicted with terrible dreams, and the blood of
+Banquo troubled them not more than the escape of Fleance, whom
+now they looked upon as father to a line of kings who should keep
+their posterity out of the throne. With these miserable thoughts
+they found no peace, and Macbeth determined once more to seek out
+the weird sisters and know from them the worst.
+
+He sought them in a cave upon the heath, where they, who knew by
+foresight of his coming, were engaged in preparing their dreadful
+charms by which they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to
+them futurity. Their horrid ingredients were toads, bats, and
+serpents, the eye of a newt and the tongue of a dog, the leg of a
+lizard and the wing of the night-owl, the scale of a dragon, the
+tooth of a wolf, the maw of the ravenous salt-sea shark, the
+mummy of a witch, the root of the poisonous hemlock (this to have
+effect must be digged in the dark), the gall of a goat, and the
+liver of a Jew, with slips of the yew-tree that roots itself in
+graves, and the finger of a dead child. All these were set on to
+boil in a great kettle, or caldron, which, as fast as it grew too
+hot, was cooled with a baboon’s blood. To these they poured in
+the blood of a sow that had eaten her young, and they threw into
+the flame the grease that had sweaten from a murderer’s gibbet.
+By these charms they bound the infernal spirit to answer their
+questions.
+
+It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his doubts
+resolved by them or by their masters, the spirits.
+
+He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which be saw,
+boldly answered: “Where are they? Let me see them.”
+
+And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first
+arose in the likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by
+name and bid him beware of the Thane of Fife; for which caution
+Macbeth thanked him; for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of
+Macduff, the Thane of Fife.
+
+And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child,
+and he called Macbeth by name and bid him have no fear, but laugh
+to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born should have
+power to hurt him; and he advised him to be bloody, bold, and
+resolute.
+
+“Then live, Macduff!” cried the king. “What need I fear thee? But
+yet I will make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live, that
+I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of
+thunder.”
+
+That spirit being dismissed, a third arose in the form of a child
+crowned, with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name and
+comforted him against conspiracies, saying that he should never
+be vanquished until the wood of Birnam to Dunsinane hill should
+come against him.
+
+“Sweet bodements! good!” cried Macbeth; “who can unfix the
+forest, and move it from its earth-bound roots? I see I shall
+live the usual period of man’s life, and not be cut off by a
+violent death. But my heart throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if
+your art can tell so much, if Banquo’s issue shall ever reign in
+this kingdom?”
+
+Here the caldron sank into the ground, and a noise of music was
+heard, and eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and
+Banquo last, who bore a glass which showed the figures of many
+more, and Banquo, all bloody, smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to
+them; by which Macbeth knew that these were the posterity of
+Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and the witches,
+with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making a show of
+duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And from this time the
+thoughts of Macbeth were all bloody and dreadful. The first thing
+he heard when he got out of the witches’ cave was that Macduff,
+Thane of Fife, had fled to England to join the army which was
+forming against him under Malcolm, the eldest son of the late
+king, with intent to displace Macbeth and set Malcolm, the right
+heir, upon the throne. Macbeth, stung with rage, set upon the
+castle of Macduff and put his wife and children, whom the thane
+had left behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all
+who claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
+
+These and such-like deeds alienated the minds of all his chief
+nobility from him. Such as could fled to join with Malcolm and
+Macduff, who were now approaching with a powerful army which they
+had raised in England; and the rest secretly wished success to
+their arms, though, for fear of Macbeth, they could take no
+active part. His recruits went on slowly. Everybody hated the
+tyrant; nobody loved or honored him; but all suspected him; and
+he began to envy the condition of Duncan, whom he had murdered,
+who slept soundly in his grave, against whom treason had done its
+worst. Steel nor poison, domestic malice nor foreign levies,
+could hurt him any longer.
+
+While these things were acting, the queen, who had been the sole
+partner in his wickedness, in whose bosom he could sometimes seek
+a momentary repose from those terrible dreams which afflicted
+them both nightly, died, it is supposed, by her own hands, unable
+to bear the remorse of guilt and public hate; by which event he
+was left alone, without a soul to love or care for him, or a
+friend to whom he could confide his wicked purposes.
+
+He grew careless of life and wished for death; but the near
+approach of Malcolm’s army roused in him what remained of his
+ancient courage, and he determined to die (as he expressed it)
+“with armor on his back.” Besides this, the hollow promises of
+the witches had filled him with a false confidence, and he
+remembered the sayings of the spirits, that none of woman born
+was to hurt him, and that he was never to be vanquished till
+Birnam wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought could
+never be. So he shut himself up in his castle, whose impregnable
+strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly waited the
+approach of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there came a messenger to
+him, pale and shaking with fear, almost unable to report that
+which he had seen; for he averred, that as he stood upon his
+watch on the hill he looked toward Birnam, and to his thinking
+the wood began to move!
+
+“Liar and slave!” cried Macbeth. “If thou speakest false, thou
+shalt hang alive upon the next tree, till famine end thee. If thy
+tale be true, I care not if thou dost as much by me”; for Macbeth
+now began to faint in resolution, and to doubt the equivocal
+speeches of the spirits. He was not to fear till Birnam wood
+should come to Dunsinane; and now a wood did move! “However,”
+ said he, “if this which he avouches be true, let us arm and out.
+There is no flying hence, nor staying here. I begin to be weary
+of the sun, and wish my life at an end.” With these desperate
+speeches he sallied forth upon the besiegers, who had now come up
+to the castle.
+
+The strange appearance which had given the messenger an idea of a
+wood moving is easily solved. When the besieging army marched
+through the wood of Birnam, Malcolm, like a skilful general,
+instructed his soldiers to hew down every one a bough and bear it
+before him, by way of concealing the true numbers of his host.
+This marching of the soldiers with boughs had at a distance the
+appearance which had frightened the messenger. Thus were the
+words of the spirit brought to pass, in a sense different from
+that in which Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of
+his confidence was gone.
+
+And now a severe skirmishing took place, in which Macbeth, though
+feebly supported by those who called themselves his friends, but
+in reality hated the tyrant and inclined to the party of Malcolm
+and Macduff, yet fought with the extreme of rage and valor,
+cutting to pieces all who were opposed to him, till he came to
+where Macduff was fighting. Seeing Macduff, and remembering the
+caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid Macduff,
+above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff, who had been
+seeking him through the whole fight, opposed his turning, and a
+fierce contest ensued, Macduff giving him many foul reproaches
+for the murder of his wife and children. Macbeth, whose soul was
+charged enough with blood of that family already, would still
+have declined the combat; but Macduff still urged him to it,
+calling him tyrant, murderer, hell-hound, and villain.
+
+Then Macbeth remembered the words of the spirit, how none of
+woman born should hurt him; and, smiling confidently, he said to
+Macduff:
+
+“Thou losest thy labor, Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress
+the air with thy sword as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed
+life, which must not yield to one of woman born.”
+
+“Despair thy charm,” said Macduff, “and let that lying spirit
+whom thou hast served tell thee that Macduff was never born of
+woman, never as the ordinary manner of men is to be born, but was
+untimely taken from his mother.”
+
+“Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,” said the trembling
+Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; “and let
+never man in future believe the lying equivocations of witches
+and juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have double
+senses, and, while they keep their promise literally, disappoint
+our hopes with a different meaning. I will not fight with thee.”
+
+“Then live!” said the scornful Macduff. “We will have a show of
+thee, as men show monsters, and a painted board, on which all be
+written, ‘Here men may see the tyrant!’”
+
+“Never,” said Macbeth, whose courage returned with despair. “I
+will not live to kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet to
+be baited with the curses of the rabble. Though Birnam wood be
+come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed to me, who wast born of
+woman, yet will I try the last.”
+
+With these frantic words he threw himself upon Macduff, who,
+after a severe struggle, in the end overcame him, and, cutting
+off his head, made a present of it to the young and lawful king,
+Malcolm, who took upon him the government which, by the
+machinations of the usurper, he had so long been deprived of, and
+ascended the throne of Duncan the Meek among the acclamations of
+the nobles and the people.
+
+
+
+
+ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+Bertram, Count of Rousillon, had newly come to his title and
+estate by the death of his father. The King of France loved the
+father of Bertram, and when he heard of his death he sent for his
+son to come immediately to his royal court in Paris, intending,
+for the friendship he bore the late count, to grace young Bertram
+with his especial favor and protection.
+
+Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when
+Lafeu, an old lord of the French court, came to conduct him to
+the king. The King of France was an absolute monarch and the
+invitation to court was in the form of a royal mandate, or
+positive command, which no subject, of what high dignity soever,
+might disobey; therefore, though the countess, in parting with
+this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose
+loss she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a
+single day, but gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who
+came to fetch him, tried to comfort the countess for the loss of
+her late lord and her son’s sudden absence; and he said, in a
+courtier’s flattering manner, that the king was so kind a prince,
+she would find in his Majesty a husband, and that he would be a
+father to her son; meaning only that the good king would befriend
+the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the king
+had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his
+physicians to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on
+hearing this account of the king’s ill health, and said she
+wished the father of Helena (a young gentlewoman who was present
+in attendance upon her) were living that she doubted not he could
+have cured his Majesty of his disease. And she told Lafeu
+something of the history of Helena, saying she was the only
+daughter of the famous physician, Gerard de Narbon, and that he
+had recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so
+that since his death she had taken Helena under her protection;
+then the countess praised the virtuous disposition and excellent
+qualities of Helena, saying she inherited these virtues from her
+worthy father. While she was speaking, Helena wept in sad and
+mournful silence, which made the countess gently reprove her for
+too much grieving for her father’s death.
+
+Bertram now bade his mother farewell. The countess parted with
+this dear son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to
+the care of Lafeu, saying:
+
+“Good my lord, advise him, for he is an unseasoned courtier.”
+
+Bertram’s last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words
+of mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his
+short farewell to her with saying:
+
+“Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of
+her.”
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and
+mournful silence the tears she shed were not for Gerard de
+Narbon.. Helena loved her father, but in the present feeling of a
+deeper love, the object of which she was about to lose, she had
+forgotten the very form and features of her dead father, her
+imagination presenting no image to her mind but Bertram’s.
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he
+was the Count of Rousillon, descended from the most ancient
+family in France. She of humble birth. Her parents of no note at
+all. His ancestors all noble. And therefore she looked up to the
+high-born Bertram as to her master and to her dear lord, and
+dared not form any wish but to live his servant, and, so living,
+to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her between
+his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes that she would say:
+
+“It were all one that I should love a bright particular star, and
+think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me.”
+
+Bertram’s absence filled her eyes with tears and her heart with
+sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty
+comfort to her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and
+look upon his dark eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his
+fine hair till she seemed to draw his portrait on the tablet of
+her heart, that heart too capable of retaining the memory of
+every line in the features of that loved face.
+
+Gerard de Narbon, when he died, left her no other portion than
+some prescriptions of rare and well-proved virtue, which, by deep
+study and long experience in medicine, he had collected as
+sovereign and almost infallible remedies. Among the rest there
+was one set down as an approved medicine for the disease under
+which Lafeu said the king at that time languished; and when
+Helena heard of the king’s complaint, she, who till now had been
+so humble and so hopeless, formed an ambitious project in her
+mind to go herself to Paris and undertake the cure of the king.
+But though Helena was the possessor of this choice prescription,
+it was unlikely, as the king as well as his physicians was of
+opinion that his disease was incurable, that they would give
+credit to a poor unlearned virgin if she should offer to perform
+a cure. The firm hopes that Helena had of succeeding, if she
+might be permitted to make the trial, seemed more than even her
+father’s skill warranted, though he was the most famous physician
+of his time; for she felt a strong faith that this good medicine
+was sanctified by all the luckiest stars in heaven to be the
+legacy that should advance her fortune, even to the high dignity
+of being Count Rousillon’s wife.
+
+Bertram had not been long gone when the countess was informed by
+her steward that he had overheard Helena talking to herself, and
+that he understood, from some words she uttered, she was in love
+with Bertram and thought of following him to Paris. The countess
+dismissed the steward with thanks, and desired him to tell Helena
+she wished to speak with her. What she had just heard of Helena
+brought the remembrance of days long past into the mind of the
+countess; those days, probably, when her love for Bertram’s
+father first began; and she said to herself:
+
+“Even so it was with me when I was young. Love is a thorn that
+belongs to the rose of youth; for in the season of youth, if ever
+we are Nature’s children, these faults are ours, though then we
+think not they are faults.”
+
+While the countess was thus meditating on the loving errors of
+her own youth, Helena entered, and she said to her, “Helena, you
+know I am a mother to you.”
+
+Helena replied, “You are my honorable mistress.”
+
+“You are my daughter,” said the countess again. “I say I am your
+mother. Why do you start and look pale at my words?”
+
+With looks of alarm and confused thoughts, fearing the countess
+suspected her love, Helena still replied, “Pardon me, madam, you
+are not my mother; the Count Rousillon cannot be my brother, nor
+I your daughter.”
+
+“Yet, Helena,” said the countess, “you might be my
+daughter-in-law; and I am afraid that is what you mean to be, the
+words MOTHER and DAUGHTER so disturb you. Helena, do you love my
+son?”
+
+“Good madam, pardon me,” said the affrighted Helena.
+
+Again the countess repeated her question. “Do you love my son?”
+
+“Do not you love him, madam?” said Helena.
+
+The countess replied: “Give me not this evasive answer, Helena.
+Come, come, disclose the state of your affections, for your love
+has to the full appeared.”
+
+Helena, on her knees now, owned her love, and with shame and
+terror implored the pardon of her noble mistress; and with words
+expressive of the sense she had of the inequality between their
+fortunes she protested Bertram did not know she loved him,
+comparing her humble, unaspiring love to a poor Indian who adores
+the sun that looks upon his worshiper but knows of him no more.
+The countess asked Helena if she had not lately an intent to go
+to Paris. Helena owned the design she had formed in her mind when
+she heard Lafeu speak of the king’s illness.
+
+“This was your motive for wishing to go to Paris,” said the
+countess, “was it? Speak truly.”
+
+Helena honestly answered, “My lord your son made me to think of
+this; else Paris. and the medicine and the king had from the
+conversation of my thoughts been absent then.”
+
+The countess heard the whole of this confession without saying a
+word either of approval or of blame, but she strictly questioned
+Helena as to the probability of the medicine being useful to the
+king. She found that it was the most prized by Gerard de Narbon
+of all he possessed, and that he had given it to his daughter on
+his death-bed; and remembering the solemn promise she had made at
+that awful hour in regard to this young maid, whose destiny, and
+the life of the king himself, seemed to depend on the execution
+of a project (which, though conceived by the fond suggestions of
+a loving maiden’s thoughts, the countess knew not but it might be
+the unseen workings of Providence to bring to pass the recovery
+of the king and to lay the foundation of the future fortunes of
+Gerard de Narbon’s daughter), free leave she gave to Helena to
+pursue her own way, and generously furnished her with ample means
+and suitable attendants; and Helena set out for Paris with the
+blessings of the countess and her kindest wishes for her success.
+
+Helena arrived at Paris, and by the assistance of her friend, the
+old Lord Lafeu, she obtained an audience of the king. She had
+still many difficulties to encounter, for the king was not easily
+prevailed on to try the medicine offered him by this fair young
+doctor. But she told him she was Gerard de Narbon’s daughter
+(with whose fame the king was well acquainted), and she offered
+the precious medicine as the darling treasure which contained the
+essence of all her father’s long experience and skill, and she
+boldly engaged to forfeit her life if it failed to restore his
+Majesty to perfect health in the space of two days. The king at
+length consented to try it, and in two days’ time Helena was to
+lose her fife if the king did not recover; but if she succeeded,
+he promised to give her the choice of any man throughout all
+France (the princes only excepted) whom she could like for a
+husband; the choice of a husband being the fee Helena demanded if
+she cured the king of his disease.
+
+Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the
+efficacy of her father’s medicine. Before two days were at an
+end the king was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all
+the young noblemen of his court together, in order to confer the
+promised reward of a husband upon his fair physician; and he
+desired Helena to look round on this youthful parcel of noble
+bachelors and choose her husband. Helena was not slow to make her
+choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count Rousillon,
+and, turning to Bertram, she said:
+
+“This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give
+me and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power.”
+
+“Why, then,” said the king, “young Bertram, take her; she is your
+wife.”
+
+Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present
+of the king’s of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a
+poor physician’s daughter, bred at his father’s charge, and now
+living a dependent on his mother’s bounty.
+
+Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and
+she said to the king: “That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let
+the rest go.”
+
+But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so
+slighted, for the power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was
+one of the many privileges of the kings of France, and that same
+day Bertram was married to Helena, a forced and uneasy marriage
+to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the poor lady, who,
+though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her life to
+obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband’s
+love not being a gift in the power of the King of France to
+bestow.
+
+Helena was no sooner married than she was desired by Bertram to
+apply to the king for him for leave of absence from court; and
+when she brought him the king’s permission for his departure,
+Bertram told her that he was not prepared for this sudden
+marriage, it had much unsettled him, and therefore she must not
+wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena wondered not,
+she grieved when she found it was his intention to leave her. He
+ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this
+unkind command, she replied:
+
+“Sir, I can nothing say to this but that I am your most obedient
+servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that
+desert wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great
+fortunes.”
+
+But this humble speech of Helena’s did not at all move the
+haughty Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her
+without even the common civility of a kind farewell.
+
+Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished
+the purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the
+king, and she had wedded her heart’s dear lord, the Count
+Rousillon; but she returned back a dejected lady to her noble
+mother-in-law, and as soon as she entered the house she received
+a letter from Bertram which almost broke her heart.
+
+The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she
+had been her son’s own choice and a lady of a high degree, and
+she spoke kind words to comfort her for the unkind neglect of
+Bertram in sending his wife home on her bridal day alone. But
+this gracious reception failed to cheer the sad mind of Helena,
+and she said:
+
+“Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.” She then read these words
+out of Bertram’s letter:
+
+“When you can get the ring from my finger, which never shall come
+off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write a Never.”
+
+“This is a dreadful sentence!” said Helena.
+
+The countess begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram
+was gone, she should be her child and that she deserved a lord
+that twenty such rude boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly
+call her mistress. But in vain by respectful condescension and
+kind flattery this matchless mother tried to soothe the sorrows
+of her daughter-in-law.
+
+Helena still kept her eyes fixed upon the letter, and cried out
+in an agony of grief, “TILL I HAVE NO WIFE, I HAVE NOTHING IN
+FRANCE.” The countess asked her if she found those words in the
+letter.
+
+“Yes, madam,” was all poor Helena could answer.
+
+The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be
+delivered to the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her
+with the reason of her sudden absence. In this letter she
+informed her that she was so much grieved at having driven
+Bertram from his native country and his home, that to atone for
+her offense, she had undertaken a pilgrimage to the shrine of St.
+Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the countess to
+inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his house
+forever.
+
+Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became
+an officer in the Duke of Florence’s army, and after a successful
+war, in which he distinguished himself by many brave actions,
+Bertram received letters from his mother containing the
+acceptable tidings that Helena would no more disturb him; and he
+was preparing to return home, when Helena herself, clad in her
+pilgrim’s weeds, arrived at the city of Florence.
+
+Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on
+their way to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this
+city she heard that a hospitable widow dwelt there who used to
+receive into her house the female pilgrims that were going to
+visit the shrine of that saint, giving them lodging and kind
+entertainment. To this good lady, therefore, Helena went, and the
+widow gave her a courteous welcome and invited her to see
+whatever was curious in that famous city, and told her that if
+she would like to see the duke’s army she would take her where
+she might have a full view of it.
+
+“And you will see a countryman of yours,” said the widow. “His
+name is Count Rousillon, who has done worthy service in the
+duke’s wars.” Helena wanted no second invitation, when she found
+Bertram was to make part of the show. She accompanied her
+hostess; and a sad and mournful pleasure it was to her to look
+once more upon her dear husband’s face.
+
+“Is he not a handsome man?” said the widow.
+
+“I like him well,” replied Helena, with great truth.
+
+All the way they walked the talkative widow’s discourse was all
+of Bertram. She told Helena the story of Bertram’s marriage, and
+how he had deserted the poor lady his wife and entered into the
+duke’s army to avoid living with her. To this account of her own
+misfortunes Helena patiently listened, and when it was ended the
+history of Bertram was not yet done, for then the widow began
+another tale, every word of which sank deep into the mind of
+Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram’s love for her
+daughter.
+
+Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the
+king, it seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had
+been stationed with the army at Florence he had fallen in love
+with Diana, a fair young gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow
+who was Helena’s hostess; and every night, with music of all
+sorts, and songs composed in praise of Diana’s beauty, he would
+come under her window and solicit her love; and all his suit to
+her was that she would permit him to visit her by stealth after
+the family were retired to rest. But Diana would by no means be
+persuaded to grant this improper request, nor give any
+encouragement to his suit, knowing him to be a married man; for
+Diana had been brought up under the counsels of a prudent mother,
+who, though she was now in reduced circumstances, was well born
+and descended from the noble family of the Capulets.
+
+All this the good lady related to Helena, highly praising the
+virtuous principles of her discreet daughter, which she said were
+entirely owing to the excellent education and good advice she had
+given her; and she further said that Bertram had been
+particularly importunate with Diana to admit him to the visit he
+so much desired that night, because he was going to leave
+Florence early the next morning.
+
+Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram’s love for the
+widow’s daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena
+conceived a project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of
+her former one) to recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the
+widow that she was Helena, the deserted wife of Bertram, and
+requested that her kind hostess and her daughter would suffer
+this visit from Bertram to take place, and allow her to pass
+herself upon Bertram for Diana, telling them her chief motive for
+desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband was to get
+a ring from him, which, he had said, if ever she was in
+possession of he would acknowledge her as his wife.
+
+The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair,
+partly moved by pity for this unhappy, forsaken wife and partly
+won over to her interest by the promises of reward which Helena
+made them, giving them a purse of money in earnest of her future
+favor. In the course of that day Helena caused information to be
+sent to Bertram that she was dead, hoping that, when he thought
+himself free to make a second choice by the news of her death, he
+would offer marriage to her in her feigned character of Diana.
+And if she could obtain the ring and this promise, too, she
+doubted not she should make some future good come of it.
+
+In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into
+Diana’s chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The
+flattering compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena
+were precious sounds to her though she knew they were meant for
+Diana; and Bertram was so well pleased with her that he made her
+a solemn promise to be her husband, and to love her forever;
+which she hoped would be prophetic of a real affection, when he
+should know it was his own wife, the despised Helena, whose
+conversation had so delighted him.
+
+Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps
+he would not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every
+day, he had entirely over looked her beauty; a face we are
+accustomed to see constantly losing the effect which is caused by
+the first sight either of beauty or of plainness; and of her
+understanding it was impossible he should judge, because she felt
+such reverence, mixed with her love for him, that she was always
+silent in his presence. But now that her future fate, and the
+happy ending of all her love-projects, seemed to depend on her
+leaving a favorable impression on the mind of Bertram from this
+night’s interview, she exerted all her wit to please him; and the
+simple graces of her lively conversation and the endearing
+sweetness of her manners so charmed Bertram that be vowed she
+should be his wife. Helena begged the ring from off his finger as
+a token of his regard, and he gave it to her; and in return for
+this ring, which it was of such importance to her to possess, she
+gave him another ring, which was one the king had made her a
+present of. Before it was light in the morning she sent Bertram
+away; and he immediately set out on his journey toward his
+mother’s house.
+
+Helena prevailed on the widow and Diana to accompany her to
+Paris, their further assistance being necessary to the full
+accomplishment of the plan she had formed. When they arrived
+there, they found the king was gone upon a visit to the Countess
+of Rousillon, and Helena followed the king with all the speed she
+could make.
+
+The king was still in perfect health, and his gratitude to her
+who had been the means of his recovery was so lively in his mind
+that the moment he saw the Countess of Rousillon he began to talk
+of Helena, calling her a precious jewel that was lost by the
+folly of her son; but seeing the subject distressed the countess,
+who sincerely lamented the death of Helena, he said:
+
+“My good lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all.”
+
+But the good-natured old Lafeu, who was present, and could not
+bear that the memory of his favorite Helena should be so lightly
+passed over, said, “This I must say, the young lord did great
+offense to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady; but to himself
+he did the greatest wrong of all, for he has lost a wife whose
+beauty astonished all eyes, whose words took all ears captive,
+whose deep perfection made all hearts wish to serve her.”
+
+The king said: “Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
+Well--call him hither”; meaning Bertram, who now presented
+himself before the king, and on his expressing deep sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Helena the king, for his dead
+father’s and his admirable mother’s sake, pardoned him and
+restored him once more to his favor. But the gracious countenance
+of the king was soon changed toward him, for he perceived that
+Bertram wore the very ring upon his finger which he had given to
+Helena; and he well remembered that Helena had called all the
+saints in heaven to witness she would never part with that ring
+unless she sent it to the king himself upon some great disaster
+befalling her; and Bertram, on the king’s questioning him how he
+came by the ring, told an improbable story of a lady throwing it
+to him out of a window, and denied ever having seen Helena since
+the day of their marriage. The king, knowing Bertram’s dislike to
+his wife, feared he had destroyed her, and he ordered his guards
+to seize Bertram, saying:
+
+“I am wrapt in dismal thinking, for I fear the life of Helena was
+foully snatched.”
+
+At this moment Diana and her mother entered and presented a
+petition to the king, wherein they begged his Majesty to exert
+his royal power to compel Bertram to marry Diana, he having made
+her a solemn promise of marriage. Bertram, fearing the king’s
+anger, denied he had made any such promise; and then Diana
+produced the ring (which Helena had put into her hands) to
+confirm the truth of her words; and she said that she had given
+Bertram the ring he then wore, in exchange for that, at the time
+he vowed to marry her. On hearing this the king ordered the
+guards to seize her also; and, her account of the ring differing
+from Bertram’s, the king’s suspicions were confirmed, and he said
+if they did not confess how they came by this ring of Helena’s
+they should be both put to death. Diana requested her mother
+might be permitted to fetch the jeweler of whom she bought the
+ring, which, being granted, the widow went out, and presently
+returned, leading in Helena herself.
+
+The good countess, who in silent grief had beheld her son’s
+danger, and had even dreaded that the suspicion of his having
+destroyed his wife might possibly be true, finding her dear
+Helena, whom she loved with even a maternal affection, was still
+living, felt a delight she was hardly able to support; and the
+king, scarce believing for joy that it was Helena, said:
+
+“Is this indeed the wife of Bertram that I see?”
+
+Helena, feeling herself yet an unacknowledged wife, replied, “No,
+my good lord, it is but the shadow of a wife you see; the name
+and not the thing.”
+
+Bertram cried out: “Both, both! Oh pardon!”
+
+“O my lord,” said Helena, “when I personated this fair maid I
+found you wondrous kind; and look, here is your letter!” reading
+to him in a joyful tone those words which she had once repeated
+so sorrowfully, “WHEN FROM MY FINGER YOU CAN GET THIS RING--This
+is done; it was to me you gave the ring. Will you be mine, now
+you are doubly won?”
+
+Bertram replied, “If you can make it plain that you were the lady
+I talked with that night I will love you dearly, ever, ever
+dearly.”
+
+This was no difficult task, for the widow and Diana came with
+Helena to prove this fact; and the king was so well pleased with
+Diana for the friendly assistance she had rendered the dear lady
+he so truly valued for the service she had done him that he
+promised her also a noble husband, Helena’s history giving him a
+hint that it was a suitable reward for kings to bestow upon fair
+ladies when they perform notable services.
+
+Thus Helena at last found that her father’s legacy was indeed
+sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven; for she was now the
+beloved wife of her dear Bertram, the daughter-in-law  of her
+noble mistress, and herself the Countess of Rousillon.
+
+
+
+
+TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+Katharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich
+gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit
+and fiery temper, such a loud-tongued scold, that she was known
+in Padua by no other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed
+very unlikely, indeed impossible, that any gentleman would ever
+be found who would venture to marry this lady, and therefore
+Baptista was much blamed for deferring his consent to many
+excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister Bianca,
+putting off all Bianca’s suitors with this excuse, that when the
+eldest sister was fairly off his bands they should have free
+leave to address young Bianca.
+
+It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to
+Padua purposely to look out for a wife, who, nothing discouraged
+by these reports of Katharine’s temper, and hearing she was rich
+and handsome, resolved upon marrying this famous termagant, and
+taming her into a meek and manageable wife. And truly none was so
+fit to set about this herculean labor as Petruchio, whose spirit
+was as high as Katharine’s, and he was a witty and most
+happy-tempered humorist, and withal so wise, and of such a true
+judgment, that he well knew how to feign a passionate and furious
+deportment when his spirits were so calm that himself could have
+laughed merrily at his own angry feigning, for his natural temper
+was careless and easy; the boisterous airs he assumed when he
+became the husband of Katharine being but in sport, or, more
+properly speaking, affected by his excellent discernment, as the
+only means to overcome, in her own way, the passionate ways of
+the furious Katharine.
+
+A-courting, then, Petruchio went to Katharine the Shrew; and
+first of all he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave to woo
+his GENTLE DAUGHTER Katharine, as Petruchio called her, saying,
+archly, that, having heard of her bashful modesty and mild
+behavior, he had come from Verona to solicit her love. Her
+father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess
+Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent
+of what manner of gentleness she was composed, for her
+music-master rushed into the room to complain that the gentle
+Katharine, his pupil, had broken his head with her lute for
+presuming to find fault with her performance; which, when
+Petruchio heard, he said:
+
+“It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have
+some chat with her.” And hurrying the old gentleman for a
+positive answer, he said: “My business is in haste, Signor
+Baptista. I cannot come every day to woo. You knew my father. He
+is dead, and has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Then
+tell me, if I get your daughter’s love, what dowry you will give
+with her.”
+
+Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but,
+being glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would
+give her twenty thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his
+estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and
+Baptista went to apprise his shrewish daughter of her lover’s
+addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
+
+In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of
+courtship be should pursue; and he said: “I will woo her with
+some spirit when she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will
+tell her she sings as sweetly as a nightingale; and if she
+frowns, I will say she looks as clear as roses newly washed with
+dew. If she will not speak a word, I will praise the eloquence of
+her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will give her
+thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week.”
+
+Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed
+her with:
+
+“Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear.”
+
+Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully,
+“They call me Katharine who do speak to me.”
+
+“You lie,” replied the lover; “for you are called plain Kate, and
+bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the
+prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your
+mildness praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my
+wife.”
+
+A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms
+showing him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he
+still praised her sweet and courteous words, till at length,
+hearing her father coming, he said (intending to make as quick a
+wooing as possible):
+
+“Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your
+father has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is
+agreed on, and whether you will or no I will marry you.”
+
+And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had
+received him kindly and that she had promised to be married the
+next Sunday. This Katharine denied, saying she would rather see
+him hanged on Sunday, and reproached her father for wishing to
+wed her to such a madcap ruffian as Petruchio. Petruchio desired
+her father not to regard her angry words, for they had agreed she
+should seem reluctant before him, but that when they were alone
+he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
+
+“Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel
+against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the
+wedding guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and
+rich clothes, that my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate,
+for we will be married on Sunday.”
+
+On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they
+waited long before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for
+vexation to think that Petruchio had only been making a jest of
+her. At last, however, he appeared; but he brought none of the
+bridal finery be had promised Katharine, nor was he dressed
+himself like a bridegroom, but in strange, disordered attire, as
+if he meant to make a sport of the serious business he came
+about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode
+were in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
+
+Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said
+Katharine was to be married to him, and not to his clothes. And,
+finding it was in vain to argue with him, to the church they
+went, he still behaving in the same mad way, for when the priest
+asked Petruchio if Katharine should be his wife, he swore so loud
+that she should, that, all amazed, the priest let fall his book,
+and as he stooped to take it up this mad-brained bridegroom gave
+him such a cuff that down fell the priest and his book again. And
+all the while they were being married he stamped and swore so
+that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear.
+After the ceremony was over, while they were yet in the church,
+he called for wine, and drank a loud health to the company, and
+threw a sop which was at the bottom of the glass full in the
+sexton’s face, giving no other reason for this strange act than
+that the sexton’s beard grew thin and hungerly, and seemed to ask
+the sop as he was drinking. Never sure was there such a mad
+marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the better
+to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his shrewish wife.
+
+Baptista had provided a sumptuous marriage feast, but when they
+returned from church, Petruchio, taking hold of Katharine,
+declared his intention of carrying his wife home instantly, and
+no remonstrance of his father-in-law, or angry words of the
+enraged Katharine, could make him change his purpose. He claimed
+a husband’s right to dispose of his wife as he pleased, and away
+he hurried Katharine off; he seeming so daring and resolute that
+no one dared attempt to stop him.
+
+Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean and lank,
+which he had picked out for the purpose, and, himself and his
+servant no better mounted, they journeyed on through rough and
+miry ways, and ever when this horse of Katharine’s stumbled he
+would storm and swear at the poor jaded beast, who could scarce
+crawl under his burthen, as if he had been the most passionate
+man alive.
+
+At length, after a weary journey, during which Katharine had
+heard nothing but the wild ravings of Petruchio at the servant
+and the horses, they arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed her
+kindly to her home, but he resolved she should have neither rest
+nor food that night. The tables were spread, and supper soon
+served; but Petruchio, pretending to find fault with every dish,
+threw the meat about the floor, and ordered the servants to
+remove it away; and all this he did, as he said, in love for his
+Katharine, that she might not eat meat that was not well dressed.
+And when Katharine, weary and supperless, retired to rest, he
+found the same fault with the bed, throwing the pillows and
+bedclothes about the room, so that she was forced to sit down in
+a chair, where, if, she chanced to drop asleep, she was presently
+awakened by the loud voice of her husband storming at the
+servants for the ill-making of his wife’s bridal-bed.
+
+The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking
+kind words to Katharine, but, when she attempted to eat, finding
+fault with everything that was set before her, throwing the
+breakfast on the floor as he had done the supper; and Katharine,
+the haughty Katharine, was fain to beg the servants would bring
+her secretly a morsel of food; but they, being instructed by
+Petruchio, replied they dared not give her anything unknown to
+their master.
+
+“Ah,” said she, “did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come
+to my father’s door have food given them. But I, who never knew
+what it was to entreat for anything, am starved for want of food,
+giddy for want of sleep, with oaths kept waking, and with
+brawling fed; and that which vexes me more than all, he does it
+under the name of perfect love, pretending that if I sleep or
+eat, it were present death to me.”
+
+Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Petruchio.
+He, not meaning she should be quite starved, had brought her a
+small portion of meat, and he said to her:
+
+“How fares my sweet Kate? Here, love, you see how diligent I am.
+I have dressed your meat myself. I am sure this kindness merits
+thanks. What, not a word? Nay, then you love not the meat, and
+all the pains I have taken is to no purpose.” He then ordered the
+servant to take the dish away.
+
+Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katharine, made her
+say, though angered to the heart, “I pray you let it stand.”
+
+But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he
+replied, “The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall
+mine before you touch the meat.”
+
+On this Katharine brought out a reluctant “I thank you, sir.”
+
+And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying: “Much
+good may it do your gentle heart, Kate. Eat apace! And now, my
+honey love, we will return to your father’s house and revel it as
+bravely as the best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings,
+with ruffs and scarfs and fans and double change of finery.” And
+to make her believe be really intended to give her these gay
+things, he called in a tailor and a haberdasher, who brought some
+new clothes he had ordered for her, and then, giving her plate to
+the servant to take away, before she had half satisfied her
+hunger, he said:
+
+“What, have you dined?”
+
+The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, “Here is the cap your
+worship bespoke.” On which Petruchio began to storm afresh,
+saying the cap was molded in a porringer and that it was no
+bigger than a cockle or walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to
+take it away and make it bigger.
+
+Katharine said, “I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps
+as these.”
+
+“When you are gentle,” replied Petruchio, “you shall have one,
+too, and not till then.”
+
+The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen
+spirits, and she said: “Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to
+speak, and speak I will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters
+have endured to hear me say my mind; and if you cannot, you had
+better stop your ears.”
+
+Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily
+discovered a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a
+jangling argument with her; therefore his answer was:
+
+“Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not
+liking it.”
+
+“Love me, or love me not,” said Katharine, “I like the cap, and I
+will have this cap or none.”
+
+“You say you wish to see the gown,” said Petruchio, still
+affecting to misunderstand her.
+
+The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had
+made for her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have
+neither cap nor gown, found as much fault with that.
+
+“Oh, mercy, Heaven!” said he, “what stuff is here! What, do you
+call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down
+like an apple tart.”
+
+The tailor said, “You bid me make it according to the fashion of
+the times”; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned
+gown. This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these
+people might be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them
+for the seemingly strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he
+with fierce words and furious gestures drove the tailor and the
+haberdasher out of the room; and then, turning to Katharine, he
+said:
+
+“Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father’s even in these
+mean garments we now wear.”
+
+And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach
+Baptista’s house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven
+o’clock. Now it was not early morning, but the very middle of the
+day, when he spoke this; therefore Katharine ventured to say,
+though modestly, being almost overcome by the vehemence of his
+manner:
+
+“I dare assure you, sir, it is two o’clock, and will be
+suppertime before we get there.”
+
+But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that
+she should assent to everything he said before he carried her to
+her father; and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and
+could command the hours, he said it. should be what time he
+pleased to have it, before beset forward. “For,” he said,
+“whatever I say or do, you still are crossing it. I will not go
+to-day, and when I go, it shall be what o’clock I say it is.”
+
+Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found
+obedience, and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a
+perfect subjection that she dared not remember there was such a
+word as contradiction would Petruchio allow her to go to her
+father’s house; and even while they were upon their journey
+thither she was in danger of being turned back again, only
+because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed the
+moon shone brightly at noonday.
+
+“Now, by my mother’s son,” said be, “and that is myself, it shall
+be the moon, or stars, or what I list, before I journey to your
+father’s house.” He then made as if he were going back again. But
+Katharine, no longer Katharine the Shrew, but the obedient wife,
+said, “Let us go forward, I pray, now we have come so far, and it
+shall be the sun, or moon, or what you please; and if you please
+to call it a rush candle henceforth, I vow it shall be so for
+me.”
+
+This he was resolved to prove, therefore he said again, “I say it
+is the moon.”
+
+“I know it is the moon,” replied Katharine.
+
+“You lie. It is the blessed sun,” said Petruchio.
+
+“Then it is the blessed sun,” replied Katharine; “but sun it is
+not when you say it is not. What you will have it named, even so
+it is, and so it ever shall be for Katharine.”
+
+Now then he suffered her to proceed on her journey; but further
+to try if this yielding humor would last, he addressed an old
+gentleman they met on the road as if he had been a young woman,
+saying to him, “Good morrow, gentle mistress”; and asked
+Katharine if she had ever beheld a fairer gentlewoman, praising
+the red and white of the old man’s cheeks, and comparing his eyes
+to two bright stars; and again he addressed him, saying, “Fair,
+lovely maid, once more good day to you!” and said to his wife,
+“Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty’s sake.”
+
+The now completely vanquished Katharine quickly adopted her
+husband’s opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old
+gentleman, saying to him: “Young budding virgin, you are fair and
+fresh and sweet. Whither are you going, and where is your
+dwelling? Happy are the parents of so fair a child.”
+
+“Why, how now, Kate,” said Petruchio. “I hope you are not mad.
+This is a man, old and wrinkled, faded and withered, and not a
+maiden, as you say he is.”
+
+On this Katharine said, “Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so
+dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seemeth green. Now I
+perceive you are a reverend father. I hope you will pardon me for
+my sad mistake.”
+
+“Do, good old grandsire,” said Petruchio, “and tell us which way
+you are traveling. We shall be glad of your good company, if you
+are going our way.”
+
+The old gentleman replied: “Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
+your strange encounter has much amazed me. My name is Vincentio,
+and I am going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua.”
+
+Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of
+Lucentio, a young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista’s
+younger daughter, Bianca, and he made Vincentio very happy by
+telling him the rich marriage his son was about to make; and they
+all journeyed on pleasantly together till they came to Baptista’s
+house, where there was a large company assembled to celebrate the
+wedding of Bianca and Lucentio, Baptista having willingly
+consented to the marriage of Bianca when he had got Katharine off
+his hands.
+
+When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast,
+and there was present also another newly married pair.
+
+Lucentio, Bianca’s husband, and Hortensio, the other new-married
+man, could not forbear sly jests, which seemed to hint at the
+shrewish disposition of Petruchio’s wife, and these fond
+bridegrooms seemed highly pleased with the mild tempers of the
+ladies they had chosen, laughing at Petruchio for his less
+fortunate choice. Petruchio took little notice of their jokes
+till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then he perceived
+Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him, for when
+Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than
+theirs, the father of Katharine said, “Now, in good sadness, son
+Petruchio, I fear you have got the veriest shrew of all.”
+
+“Well,” said Petruchio, “I say no, and therefore, for assurance
+that I speak the truth, let us each one send for his wife, and he
+whose wife is most obedient to come at first when she is sent for
+shall win a wager which we will propose.”
+
+To this the other two husbands willingly consented, for they were
+confident that their gentle wives would prove more obedient than
+the headstrong Katharine, and they proposed a wager of twenty
+crowns. But Petruchio merrily said he would lay as much as that
+upon his hawk or hound, but twenty times as much upon his wife.
+Lucentio and Hortensio raised the wager to a hundred crowns, and
+Lucentio first sent his servant to desire Bianca would come to
+him. But the servant returned, and said:
+
+“Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come.”
+
+“How,” said Petruchio, “does she say she is busy and cannot come?
+Is that an answer for a wife?”
+
+Then they laughed at him, and said it would be well if Katharine
+did not send him a worse answer. And now it was Hortensio’s turn
+to send for his wife; and be said to his servant, “Go, and
+entreat my wife to come to me.”
+
+“Oh ho! entreat her!” said Petruchio.
+
+“Nay, then, she needs must come.”
+
+“I am afraid, sir,” said Hortensio, “your wife will not be
+entreated.” But presently this civil husband looked a little
+blank when the servant returned without his mistress; and he said
+to him:
+
+“How now? Where is my wife?”
+
+“Sir,” said the servant, “my mistress says you have some goodly
+jest in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come
+to her.”
+
+“Worse and worse!” said Petruchio. And then he sent his servant,
+saying, “Sirrah, go to your mistress and tell her I command her
+to come to me.”
+
+The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this
+summons when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed:
+
+“Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharine!”
+
+And she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio, “What is your will,
+sir, that you send for me?”
+
+“Where is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?” said he.
+
+Katharine replied, “They sit conferring by the parlor fire.”
+
+“Go, fetch them hither!” said Petruchio.
+
+Away went Katharine without reply to perform her husband’s
+command.
+
+“Here is a wonder,” said Lucentio, “if you talk of a wonder.”
+
+“And so it is,” said Hortensio. “I marvel what it bodes.”
+
+“Marry, peace it bodes,” said Petruchio, “and love, and quiet
+life, and right supremacy; and, to be short, everything that is
+sweet and happy.”
+
+Katharine’s father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his
+daughter, said: “Now, fair befall thee, son Petruchio! You have
+won the wager, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns to
+her dowry, as if she were another daughter, for she is changed as
+if she had never been.”
+
+“Nay,” said Petruchio, “I will win the wager better yet, and show
+more signs of her new-built virtue and obedience.” Katharine now
+entering with the two ladies, he continued: “See where she comes,
+and brings your froward wives as prisoners to her womanly
+persuasion. Katharine, that cap of yours does not become you; off
+with that bauble, and throw it underfoot.”
+
+Katharine instantly took off her cap and threw it down.
+
+“Lord!” said Hortensio’s wife, “may I never have a cause to sigh
+till I am brought to such a silly pass!”
+
+And Bianca, she, too, said, “Fie! What foolish duty call you
+this?”
+
+On this Bianca’s husband said to her, “I wish your duty were as
+foolish, too! The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, has cost me a
+hundred crowns since dinner-time.”
+
+“The more fool you,” said Bianca, “for laying on my duty.”
+
+“Katharine,” said Petruchio, “I charge you tell these headstrong
+women what duty they owe their lords and husbands.”
+
+And to the wonder of all present, the reformed shrewish lady
+spoke as eloquently in praise of the wifelike duty of obedience
+as she had practised it implicitly in a ready submission to
+Petruchio’s will. And Katharine once more became famous in Padua,
+not as heretofore as Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the
+most obedient and duteous wife in Padua.
+
+
+
+
+THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+The states of Syracuse and Ephesus being at variance, there was a
+cruel law made at Ephesus, ordaining that if any merchant of
+Syracuse was seen in the city of Ephesus he was to be put to
+death, unless he could pay a thousand marks for the ransom of his
+life.
+
+Aegeon, an old merchant of Syracuse, was discovered in the
+streets of Ephesus, and brought before the duke, either to pay
+this heavy fine or receive sentence of death.
+
+Aegeon had no money to pay the fine, and the duke, before he
+pronounced the sentence of death upon him, desired him to relate
+the history of his life, and to tell for what cause he had
+ventured to come to the city of Ephesus, which it was death for
+any Syracusan merchant to enter.
+
+Aegeon said that he did not fear to die, for sorrow had made him
+weary of his life, but that a heavier task could not have been
+imposed upon him than to relate the events of his unfortunate
+life. He then began his own history, in the following words:
+
+“I was born at Syracuse, and brought up to the profession of a
+merchant. I married a lady, with whom I lived very happily, but,
+being obliged to go to Epidamnum, I was detained there by my
+business six months, and then, finding I should be obliged to
+stay some time longer, I sent for my wife, who, as soon as she
+arrived, was brought to bed of two sons, and what was very
+strange, they were both so exactly alike that it was impossible
+to distinguish the one from the other. At the same time that my
+wife was brought to bed of these twin boys a poor woman in the
+inn where my wife lodged was brought to bed of two sons, and
+these twins were as much like each other as my two sons were. The
+parents of these children being exceeding poor, I bought the two
+boys and brought them up to attend upon my sons.
+
+“My sons were very fine children, and my wife was not a little
+proud of two such boys; and she daily wishing to return home, I
+unwillingly agreed, and in an evil hour we got on shipboard, for
+we had not sailed above a league from Epidamnum before a dreadful
+storm arose, which continued with such violence that the sailors,
+seeing no chance of saving the ship, crowded into the boat to
+save their own lives, leaving us alone in the ship, which we
+every moment expected would be destroyed by the fury of the
+storm.
+
+“The incessant weeping of my wife and the piteous complaints of
+the pretty babes, who, not knowing what to fear, wept for
+fashion, because they saw their mother weep, filled me with
+terror for them, though I did not for myself fear death; and all
+my thoughts were bent to contrive means for their safety. I tied
+my youngest son to the end of a small spire mast, such as
+seafaring men provide against storms; at the other end I bound
+the youngest of the twin slaves, and at the same time I directed
+my wife how to fasten the other children in like manner to
+another mast. She thus having the care of the eldest two
+children, and I of the younger two, we bound ourselves separately
+to these masts with the children; and but for this contrivance we
+had all been lost, for the ship split on a mighty rock and was
+dashed in pieces; and we, clinging to these slender masts, were
+supported above the water, where I, having the care of two
+children, was unable to assist my wife, who, with the other
+children, was soon separated from me; but while they were yet in
+my sight they were taken up by a boat of fishermen, from Corinth
+(as I supposed), and, seeing them in safety, I had no care but to
+struggle with the wild sea-waves, to preserve my dear son and the
+youngest slave. At length we, in our turn, were taken up by a
+ship, and the sailors, knowing me, gave us kind welcome and
+assistance and landed us in safety at Syracuse; but from that sad
+hour I have never known what became of my wife and eldest child.
+
+“My youngest son, and now my only care, when he was eighteen
+years of age, began to be inquisitive after his mother and his
+brother, and often importuned me that he might take his
+attendant, the young slave, who had also lost his brother, and
+go in search of them. At length I unwillingly gave consent, for,
+though I anxiously desired to hear tidings of my wife and eldest
+son, yet in sending my younger one to find them I hazarded the
+loss of him also. It is now seven years since my son left me;
+five years have I passed in traveling through the world in search
+of him. I have been in farthest Greece, and through the bounds of
+Asia, and, coasting homeward, I landed here in Ephesus, being
+unwilling to leave any place unsought that harbors men; but this
+day must end the story of my life, and happy should I think
+myself in my death if I were assured my wife and sons were
+living.”
+
+Here the hapless Aegeon ended the account of his misfortunes; and
+the duke, pitying this unfortunate father who had brought upon
+himself this great peril by his love for his lost son, said if it
+were not against the laws, which his oath and dignity did not
+permit him to alter, he would freely pardon him; yet, instead of
+dooming him to instant death, as the strict letter of the law
+required, he would give him that day to try if he could beg or
+borrow the money to pay the fine.
+
+This day of grace did seem no great favor to Aegeon, for, not
+knowing any man in Ephesus, there seemed to him but little chance
+that any stranger would lend or give him a thousand marks to pay
+the fine; and, helpless and hopeless of any relief, he retired
+from the presence of the duke in the custody of a jailer.
+
+Aegeon supposed he knew no person in Ephesus; but at the time he
+was in danger of losing his life through the careful search he
+was making after his youngest son that son, and his eldest son
+also, were in the city of Ephesus.
+
+Aegeon’s sons, besides being exactly alike in face and person,
+were both named alike, being both called Antipholus, and the two
+twin slaves were also both named Dromio. Aegeon’s youngest son,
+Antipholus of Syracuse, he whom the old man had come to Ephesus
+to seek, happened to arrive at Ephesus with his slave Dromio that
+very same day that Aegeon did; and he being also a merchant of
+Syracuse, he would have been in the same danger that his father
+was, but by good fortune he met a friend who told him the peril
+an old merchant of Syracuse was in, and advised him to pass for a
+merchant of Epidamnum. This Antipholus agreed to do, and he was
+sorry to hear one of his own countrymen was in this danger, but
+he little thought this old merchant was his own father.
+
+The eldest son of Aegeon (who must be called Antipholus of
+Ephesus, to distinguish him from his brother Antipholus of
+Syracuse) had lived at Ephesus twenty years, and, being a rich
+man, was well able to have paid the money for the ransom of his
+father’s life; but Antipholus knew nothing of his father, being
+so young when he was taken out of the sea with his mother by the
+fishermen that he only remembered he had been so preserved; but
+he had no recollection of either his father or his mother, the
+fishermen who took up this Antipholus and his mother and the
+young slave Dromio having carried the two children away from her
+(to the great grief of that unhappy lady), intending to sell
+them.
+
+Antipholus and Dromio were sold by them to Duke Menaphon, a
+famous warrior, who was uncle to the Duke of Ephesus, and he
+carried the boys to Ephesus when he went to visit the duke, his
+nephew.
+
+The Duke of Ephesus, taking a liking to young Antipholus, when he
+grew up made him an officer in his army, in which he
+distinguished himself by his great bravery in the wars, where he
+saved the life of his patron, the duke, who rewarded his merit by
+marrying him to Adriana, a rich lady of Ephesus, with whom he was
+living (his slave Dromio still attending him) at the time his
+father came there.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse, when he parted with his friend, who,
+advised him to say he came from Epidamnum, gave his slave Dromio
+some money to carry to the inn where he intended to dine, and in
+the mean time he said he would walk about and view the city and
+observe the manners of the people.
+
+Dromio was a pleasant fellow, and when Antipholus was dull and
+melancholy he used to divert himself with the odd humors and
+merry jests of his slave, so that the freedoms of speech he
+allowed in Dromio were greater than is usual between masters and
+their servants.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had sent Dromio away, he stood awhile
+thinking over his solitary wanderings in search of his mother and
+his brother, of whom in no place where he landed could he hear
+the least tidings; and he said sorrowfully to himself, “I am like
+a drop of water in the ocean. which, seeking to find its fellow
+drop, loses itself in the wide sea, So I, unhappily, to find a
+mother and a brother, do lose myself.”
+
+While he was thus meditating on his weary travels, which had
+hitherto been so useless, Dromio (as he thought) returned.
+Antipholus, wondering that he came back so soon, asked him where
+he had left the money. Now it was not his own Dromio, but the
+twin-brother that lived with Antipholus of Ephesus, that he spoke
+to. The two Dromios and the two Antipholuses were still as much
+alike as Aegeon had said they were in their infancy; therefore no
+wonder Antipholus thought it was his own slave returned, and
+asked him why he came back so soon.
+
+Dromio replied: “My mistress sent me to bid you come to dinner.
+The capon burns, and the pig falls from the spit, and the meat
+will be all cold if you do not come home.”
+
+“These jests are out of season,” said Antipholus. “Where did you
+leave the money?”
+
+Dromio still answering that his mistress had sent him to fetch
+Antipholus to dinner, “What mistress?” said Antipholus.
+
+“Why, your worship’s wife, sir!” replied Dromio.
+
+Antipholus having no wife, he was very angry with Dromio, and
+said: “Because I familiarly sometimes chat with you, you presume
+to jest with me in this free manner. I am not in a sportive humor
+now. Where is the money? We being strangers here, how dare you
+trust so great a charge from your own custody?”
+
+Dromio, hearing his master, as he thought him, talk of their
+being strangers, supposing Antipholus was jesting, replied,
+merrily: “I pray you, sir, jest as you sit at dinner. I had no
+charge but to fetch you home to dine with my mistress and her
+sister.”
+
+Now Antipholus lost all patience, and beat Dromio, who ran home
+and told his mistress that his master had refused to come to
+dinner and said that he had no wife.
+
+Adriana, the wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, was very angry when
+she heard that her husband said he had no wife; for she was of a
+jealous temper, and she said her husband meant that he loved
+another lady better than herself; and she began to fret, and say
+unkind words of jealousy and reproach of her husband; and her
+sister Luciana, who lived with her, tried in vain to persuade her
+out of her groundless suspicions.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse went to the inn, and found Dromio with the
+money in safety there, and, seeing his own Dromio, he was going
+again to chide him for his free jests, when Adriana came up to
+him, and, not doubting but it was her husband she saw, she began
+to reproach him for looking strange upon her (as well he might,
+never having seen this angry lady before); and then she told him
+how well he loved her before they were married, and that now he
+loved some other lady instead of her.
+
+“How comes it now, my husband,” said she, “oh, how comes it that
+I have lost your love?”
+
+“Plead you to me, fair dame?” said the astonished Antipholus.
+
+It was in vain he told her he was not her husband and that he had
+been in Ephesus but two hours. She insisted on his going home
+with her, and Antipholus at last, being unable to get away, went
+with her to his brother’s house, and dined with Adriana and her
+sister, the one calling him husband and the other brother, he,
+all amazed, thinking he must have been married to her in his
+sleep, or that he was sleeping now. And Dromio, who followed
+them, was no less surprised, for the cook-maid, who was his
+brother’s wife, also claimed him for her husband.
+
+While Antipholus of Syracuse was dining with his brother’s wife,
+his brother, the real husband, returned home to dinner with his
+slave Dromio; but the servants would not open the door, because
+their mistress had ordered them not to admit any company; and
+when they repeatedly knocked, and said they were Antipholus and
+Dromio, the maids laughed at them, and said that Antipholus was
+at dinner with their mistress, and Dromio was in the kitchen, and
+though they almost knocked the door down, they could not gain
+admittance, and at last Antipholus went away very angry, and
+strangely surprised at, hearing a gentleman was dining with his
+wife.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had finished his dinner, he was so
+perplexed at the lady’s still persisting in calling him husband,
+and at hearing that Dromio had also been claimed by the cookmaid,
+that he left the house as soon as he could find any pretense to
+get away; for though he was very much pleased with Luciana, the
+sister, yet the jealous-tempered Adriana he disliked very much,
+nor was Dromio at all better satisfied with his fair wife in the
+kitchen; therefore both master and man were glad to get away from
+their new wives as fast as they could.
+
+The moment Antipholus of Syracuse had left the house he was met
+by a goldsmith, who, mistaking him, as Adriana had done, for
+Antipholus of Ephesus, gave him a gold chain, calling him by his
+name; and when Antipholus would have refused the chain, saying it
+did not belong to him, the goldsmith replied he made it by his
+own orders, and went away, leaving the chain in the hands of
+Antipholus, who ordered his man Dromio to get his things on board
+a ship, not choosing to stay in a place any longer where he met
+with such strange adventures that he surely thought himself
+bewitched.
+
+The goldsmith who had given the chain to the wrong Antipholus was
+arrested immediately after for a sum of money he owed; and
+Antipholus, the married brother, to whom the goldsmith thought he
+had given the chain, happened to come to the place where the
+officer was arresting the goldsmith, who, when he saw Antipholus,
+asked him to pay for the gold chain he had just delivered to him,
+the price amounting to nearly the same sum as that for which he
+had been arrested. Antipholus denying the having received the
+chain, and the goldsmith persisting to declare that he had but a
+few minutes before given it to him, they disputed this matter a
+long time, both thinking they were right; for Antipholus knew the
+goldsmith never gave him the chain, and so like were the two
+brothers, the goldsmith was as certain he had delivered the chain
+into his hands, till at last the officer took the goldsmith away
+to prison for the debt he owed, and at the same time the
+goldsmith made the officer arrest Antipholus for the price of the
+chain; so that at the conclusion of their dispute Antipholus and
+the merchant were both taken away to prison together.
+
+As Antipholus was going to prison, he met Dromio of Syracuse, his
+brother’s slave, and, mistaking him for his own, he ordered him
+to go to Adriana his wife, and tell her to send the money for
+which he was arrested. Dromio, wondering that his master should
+send him back to the strange house where he dined, and from which
+he had just before been in such haste to depart, did not dare to
+reply, though he came to tell his master the ship was ready to
+sail, for he saw Antipholus was in no humor to be jested with.
+Therefore he went away, grumbling within himself that he must
+return to Adriana’s house, “Where,” said he, “Dowsabel claims me
+for a husband. But I must go, for servants must obey their
+masters’ commands.”
+
+Adriana gave him the money, and as Dromio was returning he met
+Antipholus of Syracuse, who was still in amaze at the surprising
+adventures he met with, for, his brother being well known in
+Ephesus, there was hardly a man he met in the streets but saluted
+him as an old acquaintance. Some offered him money which they
+said was owing to him, some invited him to come and see them, and
+some gave him thanks for kindnesses they said he had done them,
+all mistaking him for his brother. A tailor showed him some silks
+he had bought for him, and insisted upon taking measure of him
+for some clothes.
+
+Antipholus began to think he was among a nation of sorcerers and
+witches, and Dromio did not at all relieve his master from his
+bewildered thoughts by asking him how he got free from the
+officer who was carrying him to prison, and giving him the purse
+of gold which Adriana had sent to pay the debt with. This talk of
+Dromio’s of the arrest and of a prison, and of the money he had
+brought from Adriana, perfectly confounded Antipholus, and he
+said, “This fellow Dromio is certainly distracted, and we wander
+here in illusions,” and, quite terrified at his own confused
+thoughts, he cried out, “Some blessed power deliver us from this
+strange place!”
+
+And now another stranger came up to him, and she was a lady, and
+she, too, called him Antipholus, and told him he had dined with
+her that day, and asked him for a gold chain which she said he
+had promised to give her. Antipholus now lost all patience, and,
+calling her a sorceress, he denied that he had ever promised her
+a chain, or dined with her, or had even seen her face before that
+moment. The lady persisted in affirming he had dined with her and
+had promised her a chain, which Antipholus still denying, she
+further said that she had given him a valuable ring, and if he
+would not give her the gold chain, she insisted upon having her
+own ring again. On this Antipholus became quite frantic, and
+again calling her sorceress and witch, and denying all knowledge
+of her or her ring, ran away from her, leaving her astonished at
+his words and his wild looks, for nothing to her appeared more
+certain than that he had dined with her, and that she had given
+him a ring in consequence of his promising to make her a present
+of a gold chain. But this lady had fallen into the same mistake
+the others had done, for she had taken him for his brother; the
+married Antipholus had done all the things she taxed this
+Antipholus with.
+
+When the married Antipholus was denied entrance into his house
+(those within supposing him to be already there) be had gone away
+very angry, believing it to be one of his wife’s jealous freaks,
+to which she was very subject, and, remembering that she had
+often falsely accused him of visiting other ladies, he, to be
+revenged on her for shutting him out of his own house, determined
+to go and dine with this lady, and she receiving him with great
+civility, and his wife having so highly offended him, Antipholus
+promised to give her a gold chain which he had intended as a
+present for his wife; it was the same chain which the goldsmith
+by mistake had given to his brother. The lady liked so well the
+thoughts of having a fine gold chain that she gave the married
+Antipholus a ring; which when, as she supposed (taking his
+brother for him), he denied, and said he did not know her, and
+left her in such a wild passion, she began to think he was
+certainly out of his senses; and presently she resolved to go and
+tell Adriana that her husband was mad. And while she was telling
+it to Adriana he came, attended by the jailer (who allowed him to
+come home to get the money to pay the debt), for the purse of
+money which Adriana had sent by Dromio and he had delivered to
+the other Antipholus.
+
+Adriana believed the story the lady told her of her husband’s
+madness must be true when he reproached her for shutting him out
+of his own house; and remembering how he had protested all
+dinner-time that he was not her husband and had never been in
+Ephesus till that day, she had no doubt that he was mad; she
+therefore paid the jailer the money, and, having discharged him,
+she ordered her servants to bind her husband with ropes, and had
+him conveyed into a dark room, and sent for a doctor to come and
+cure him of his madness, Antipholus all the while hotly
+exclaiming against this false accusation, which the exact
+likeness he bore to his brother had brought upon him. But his
+rage only the more confirmed them in the belief that he was mad;
+and Dromio persisting in the same story, they bound him also and
+took him away along with his master.
+
+Soon after Adriana had put her husband into confinement a servant
+came to tell her that Antipholus and Dromio must have broken
+loose from their keepers, for that they were both walking at
+liberty in the next street. On hearing this Adriana ran out to
+fetch him home, taking some people with her to secure her husband
+again; and her sister went along with her. When they came to the
+gates of a convent in their neighborhood, there they saw
+Antipholus and Dromio, as they thought, being again deceived by
+the likeness of the twin brothers.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse was still beset with the perplexities this
+likeness had brought upon him. The chain which the goldsmith had
+given him was about his neck, and the goldsmith was reproaching
+him for denying that he had it and refusing to pay for it, and
+Antipholus was protesting that the goldsmith freely gave him the
+chain in the morning, and that from that hour he had never seen
+the goldsmith again.
+
+And now Adriana came up to him and claimed him as her lunatic
+husband who had escaped from his keepers, and the men she brought
+with her were going to lay violent hands on Antipholus and
+Dromio; but they ran into the convent, and Antipholus begged the
+abbess to give him shelter in her house.
+
+And now came out the lady abbess herself to inquire into the
+cause of this disturbance. She was a grave and venerable lady,
+and wise to judge of what she saw, and she would not too hastily
+give up the man who had sought protection in her house; so she
+strictly questioned the wife about the story she told of her
+husband’s madness, and she said:
+
+“What is the cause of this sudden distemper of your husband’s?
+Has he lost his wealth at sea? Or is it the death of some dear
+friend that has disturbed his mind?”
+
+Adriana replied that no such things as these had been the cause.
+
+“Perhaps,” said the abbess, “he has fixed his affections on some
+other lady than you, his wife, and that has driven him to this
+state.”
+
+Adriana said she had long thought the love of some other lady was
+the cause of his frequent absences from home.
+
+Now it was not his love for another, but the teasing jealousy of
+his wife’s temper, that often obliged Antipholus to leave his
+home; and the abbess (suspecting this from the vehemence of
+Adriana’s manner), to learn the truth, said:
+
+“You should have reprehended him for this.”
+
+“Why, so I did,” replied Adriana.
+
+“Aye,” said the abbess, “but perhaps not enough.”
+
+Adriana, willing to convince the abbess that she had said enough
+to Antipholus on this subject, replied: “It was the constant
+subject of our conversation; in bed I would not let him sleep for
+speaking of it. At table I would not let him eat for speaking of
+it. When I was alone with him I talked of nothing else; and in
+company I gave him frequent hints of it. Still all my talk was
+how vile and bad it was in him to love any lady better than me.”
+
+The lady abbess, having drawn this full confession from the
+jealous Adriana, now said: “And therefore comes it that your
+husband is mad. The venomous clamor of a jealous woman is a more
+deadly poison than a mad dog’s tooth. It seems his sleep was
+hindered by your railing; no wonder that his head is light; and
+his meat was sauced with your upbraidings; unquiet meals make ill
+digestions, and that has thrown him into this fever. You say his
+sports were disturbed by your brawls; being debarred from the
+enjoyment of society and recreation, what could ensue but dull
+melancholy and comfortless despair? The consequence is, then,
+that your jealous fits have made your husband mad.”
+
+Luciana would have excused her sister, saying she always
+reprehended her husband mildly; and she said to her sister, “Why
+do you hear these rebukes without answering them?”
+
+But the abbess had made her so plainly perceive her fault that
+she could only answer, “She has betrayed me to my own reproof.”
+
+Adriana, though ashamed of her own conduct, still insisted on
+having her husband delivered up to her; but the abbess would
+suffer no person to enter her house, nor would she deliver up
+this unhappy man to the care of the jealous wife, determining
+herself to use gentle means for his recovery, and she retired
+into her house again, and ordered her gates to be shut against
+them.
+
+During the course of this eventful day, in which so many errors
+had happened from the likeness the twin brothers bore to each
+other, old  Aegeon’s day of grace was passing away, it being now
+near sunset; and at sunset he was doomed to die if he could not
+pay the money.
+
+The place of his execution was near this convent, and here he
+arrived just as the abbess retired into the convent; the duke
+attending in person, that, if any offered to pay the money, he
+might be present to pardon him.
+
+Adriana stopped this melancholy procession, and cried out to the
+duke for justice, telling him that the abbess had refused to
+deliver up her lunatic husband to her care. While she was
+speaking, her real husband and his servant, Dromio, who had got
+loose, came before the duke to demand justice, complaining that
+his wife had confined him on a false charge of lunacy, and
+telling in what manner he had broken his bands and eluded the
+vigilance of his keepers. Adriana was strangely surprised to see
+her husband when she thought he had been within the convent.
+
+Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left
+him to go in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt
+secure that this dear son would readily pay the money demanded
+for his ransom. He therefore spoke to Antipholus in words of
+fatherly affection, with joyful hope that he should now be
+released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his son
+denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this
+Antipholus had never seen his father since they were separated in
+the storm in his infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in
+vain endeavoring to make his son acknowledge him, thinking surely
+that either his griefs and the anxieties he had suffered had so
+strangely altered him that his son did not know him or else that
+he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his misery--in the
+midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other Antipholus
+and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands
+and two Dromios standing before her.
+
+And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all,
+were clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and
+the two Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured
+aright of these seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story
+Aegeon had told him in the morning; and he said these men must be
+the two sons of Aegeon and their twin slaves.
+
+But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of
+Aegeon; and the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and
+under sentence of death, before the setting sun went down was
+brought to a happy conclusion, for the venerable lady abbess made
+herself known to be the long-lost wife of Aegeon and the fond
+mother of the two Antipholuses.
+
+When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away
+from her, she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous
+conduct she was at length made lady abbess of this convent and in
+discharging the rites of hospitality to an unhappy stranger she
+had unknowingly protected her own son.
+
+Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these
+long-separated parents and their children made them for a while
+forget that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they
+were become a little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke
+the ransom money for his father’s life; but the duke freely
+pardoned Aegeon, and would not take the money. And the duke went
+with the abbess and her newly found husband and children into the
+convent, to hear this happy family discourse at leisure of the
+blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two Dromios’
+humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their congratulations
+and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly complimented his
+brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his own
+person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.
+
+Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her
+mother-in-law that she never after cherished unjust suspicions
+nor was jealous of her husband.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of
+his brother’s wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and
+sons, lived at Ephesus many years. Nor did the unraveling of
+these perplexities so entirely remove every ground of mistake for
+the future but that sometimes, to remind them of adventures past,
+comical blunders would happen, and the one Antipholus, and the
+one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making altogether a
+pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.
+
+
+
+
+MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild
+and gentle temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the
+laws with impunity; and there was  in particular one law the
+existence of  which was almost forgotten, the duke never having
+put it in force during his  whole reign. This was a law dooming
+any man to the punishment of death who should live with a woman
+that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of the
+duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage
+became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke
+by the parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters
+had been seduced from their protection and were living as the
+companions of single men.
+
+The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his
+subjects; but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the
+indulgence he had hitherto shown, to the strict severity
+requisite to check this abuse, would make his people (who had
+hitherto loved him) consider him as a tyrant; therefore he
+determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom and depute
+another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against
+these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving
+offense by an unusual severity in his own person.
+
+Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for
+his strict and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person
+to undertake this important charge; and when the duke imparted
+his design to Lord Escalus, his chief counselor, Escalus said:
+
+“If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and
+honor, it is Lord Angelo.”
+
+And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a
+journey into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in
+his absence; but the duke’s absence was only a feigned one, for
+he privately returned to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the
+intent to watch unseen the conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.
+
+It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his
+new dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced
+a young lady from her parents; and for this offense, by command
+of the new lord deputy, Claudio was taken up and committed to
+prison, and by virtue of the old law which had been so long
+neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded. Great interest
+was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old Lord
+Escalus himself interceded for him.
+
+“Alas!” said he, “this gentleman whom I would save had an
+honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young
+man’s transgression.”
+
+But Angelo replied: “We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it
+harmless, makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must
+die.”
+
+Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and
+Claudio said to him: “I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service.
+Go to my sister Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the
+convent of Saint Clare; acquaint her with the danger of my state;
+implore her that she make friends with the strict deputy; bid her
+go herself to Angelo. I have great hopes in that; for she can
+discourse with prosperous art, and well she can persuade;
+besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such as
+moves men.”
+
+Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered
+upon her novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after
+passing through her probation as a novice, to take the veil, and
+she was inquiring of a nun concerning the rules of the convent
+when they heard the voice of Lucio, who, as he entered that
+religious house, said, “Peace be in this place!”
+
+“Who is it that speaks?” said Isabel.
+
+“It is a man’s voice,” replied the nun. “Gentle Isabel, go to
+him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you have
+taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence
+of the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face,
+or if you show your face you must not speak.”
+
+“And have you nuns no further privileges?” said Isabel.
+
+“Are not these large enough?” replied the nun.
+
+“Yes, truly,” said Isabel. “I speak not as desiring more, but
+rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the
+votarists of Saint Clare.”
+
+Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: “He calls
+again. I pray you answer him.”
+
+Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation,
+said: “Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?”
+
+Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: “Hail, virgin,
+if such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no
+less! Can you bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this
+place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?”
+
+“Why her unhappy brother?” said Isabel, “let me ask! for I am
+that Isabel and his sister.”
+
+“Fair and gentle lady,” he replied, “your brother kindly greets
+you by me; he is in prison.”
+
+“Woe is me! for what?” said Isabel.
+
+Lucio then told her Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young
+maiden. “Ah,” said she, “I fear it is my cousin Juliet.”
+
+Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other
+cousin in remembrance of their school-days’ friendship; and as
+Isabel knew that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been
+led by her affection for him into this transgression.
+
+“She it is,” replied Lucio.
+
+“Why, then, let my brother marry Juliet,” said Isabel.
+
+Lucio replied that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that
+the lord deputy had sentenced him to die for his offense.
+“Unless,” said he, “you have the grace by your fair prayer to
+soften Angelo, and that is my business between you and your poor
+brother.”
+
+“Alas!” said Isabel, “what poor ability is there in me to do him
+good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo.”
+
+“Our doubts are traitors,” said Lucio, “and make us lose the good
+we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to Lord Angelo!
+When maidens sue and kneel and weep men give like gods.”
+
+“I will see what I can do said Isabel. “I will but stay to give
+the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.
+Commend me to my brother. Soon at night I will send him word of
+my success.”
+
+Isabel hastened to the palace and threw herself on her knees
+before Angelo, saying, “I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, if it
+will please your Honor to hear me.”
+
+“Well, what is your suit?” said Angelo.
+
+She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her
+brother’s life.
+
+But Angelo said, “Maiden, there is no remedy; your brother is
+sentenced, and he must die.”
+
+“Oh, just but severe law!” said Isabel. “I had a brother then.
+Heaven keep your Honor!” and she was about to depart.
+
+But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said: “Give it not over so;
+return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang
+upon his gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you
+could not with a more tame tongue desire it.”
+
+Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy.
+
+“He is sentenced,” said Angelo. “It is too late.”
+
+“Too late!” said Isabel. “Why, no! I that do speak a word may
+call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
+great ones belongs, not the king’s crown, nor the deputed sword,
+the marshal’s truncheon, nor the judge’s robe, becomes them with
+one half so good a grace as mercy does.”
+
+“Pray you begone,” said Angelo.
+
+But still Isabel entreated; and she said: “If my brother had been
+as you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he,
+like you, would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had
+your power and you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I
+would tell you what it were to be a judge, and what a prisoner.”
+
+“Be content, fair maid!” said Angelo: “it is the law, not I,
+condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son,
+it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow.”
+
+“To-morrow?” said Isabel. “Oh, that is sudden! Spare him, spare
+him. He is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we kill
+the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than
+we minister to our gross selves? Good, good, my lord, bethink
+you, none have died for my brother’s offense, though many have
+committed it. So you would be the first that gives this sentence
+and he the first that suffers it. Go to your own bosom, my lord;
+knock there, and ask your heart what it does know that is like my
+brother’s fault; if it confess a natural guiltiness such as his
+is, let it not sound a thought against my brother’s life!”
+
+Her last words more moved Angelo than all she had before said,
+for the beauty of Isabel had raised a guilty passion in his heart
+and he began to form thoughts of dishonorable love, such as
+Claudio’s crime had been, and the conflict in his mind made him
+to turn away from Isabel; but she called him back, saying:
+“Gentle my lord, turn back. Hark, how I will bribe you. Good my
+lord, turn back!”
+
+“How! bribe me?” said Angelo, astonished that she should think of
+offering him a bribe.
+
+“Aye,” said Isabel, “with such gifts that Heaven itself shall
+share with you; not with golden treasures, or those glittering
+stones whose price is either rich or poor as fancy values them,
+but with true prayers that shall be up to Heaven before
+sunrise--prayers from preserved souls, from fasting maids whose
+minds are dedicated to nothing temporal.”
+
+“Well, come to me to-morrow,” said Angelo.
+
+And for this short respite of her brother’s life, and for this
+permission that she might be heard again, she left him with the
+joyful hope that she should at last prevail over his stern
+nature. And as she went away she said: “Heaven keep your Honor
+safe! Heaven save your Honor!” Which, when Angelo heard, he said
+within his heart, “Amen, I would be saved from thee and from thy
+virtues.” And then, affrighted at his own evil thoughts, he said:
+“What is this? What is this? Do I love her, that I desire to hear
+her speak again and feast upon her eyes? What is it I dream on?
+The cunning enemy of mankind, to catch a saint, with saints does
+bait the hook. Never could an immodest woman once stir my temper,
+but this virtuous woman subdues me quite. Even till now, when men
+were fond, I smiled and wondered at them.”
+
+In the guilty conflict in his mind Angelo suffered more that
+night than the prisoner he had so severely sentenced; for in the
+prison Claudio was visited by the good duke, who, in his friar’s
+habit, taught the young man the way to heaven, preaching to him
+the words of penitence and peace. But Angelo felt all the pangs
+of irresolute guilt, now wishing to seduce Isabel from the paths
+of innocence and honor, and now suffering remorse and horror for
+a crime as yet but intentional. But in the end his evil thoughts
+prevailed; and he who had so lately started at the offer of a
+bribe resolved to tempt this maiden with so high a bribe as she
+might not be able to resist, even with the precious gift of her
+dear brother’s life.
+
+When Isabel came in the morning Angelo desired she might be
+admitted alone to his presence; and being there, he said to her,
+if she would yield to him her virgin honor and transgress even as
+Juliet had done with Claudio, he would give her her brother’s
+life.
+
+“For,” said he, “I love you, Isabel.”
+
+“My brother,” said Isabel, “did so love Juliet, and yet you tell
+me he shall die for it.”
+
+“But,” said Angelo, “Claudio shall not die if you will consent to
+visit me by stealth at night, even as Juliet left her father’s
+house at night to come to Claudio.”
+
+Isabel, in amazement at his words, that he should tempt her to
+the same fault for which he passed sentence upon her brother,
+said, “I would do as much for my poor brother as for myself; that
+is, were I under sentence of death, the impression of keen whips
+I would wear as rubies, and go to my death as to a bed that
+longing I had been sick for, ere I would yield myself up to this
+shame.” And then she told him she hoped he only spoke these words
+to try her virtue.
+
+But he said, “Believe me, on my honor, my words express my
+purpose.”
+
+Isabel, angered to the heart to hear him use the word honor to
+express such dishonorable purposes, said: “Ha! little honor to be
+much believed; and most pernicious purpose. I will proclaim thee,
+Angelo, look for it! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or
+I will tell the world aloud what man thou art!”
+
+“Who will believe you, Isabel?” said Angelo; “my unsoiled name,
+the austereness of my life, my word vouched against yours, will
+outweigh your accusation. Redeem your brother by yielding to my
+will, or he shall die to-morrow. As for you, say what you can, my
+false will overweigh your true story. Answer me to-morrow.”
+
+“To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe
+me?” said Isabel, as she went toward the dreary prison where her
+brother was confined. When she arrived there her brother was in
+pious conversation with the duke, who in his friar’s habit had
+also visited Juliet and brought both these guilty lovers to a
+proper sense of their fault; and unhappy Juliet with tears and a
+true remorse confessed that she was more to blame than Claudio,
+in that she willingly consented to his dishonorable
+solicitations.
+
+As Isabel entered the room where Claudio was confined, she said,
+“Peace be here, grace, and good company!”
+
+“Who is there?” said the disguised duke. “Come in; the wish
+deserves a welcome.”
+
+“My business is a word or two with Claudio,” said Isabel.
+
+Then the duke left them together, and desired the provost who had
+the charge of the prisoners to place him where he might overhear
+their conversation.
+
+“Now, sister, what is the comfort?” said Claudio.
+
+Isabel told him he must prepare for death on the morrow.
+
+“Is there no remedy?” said Claudio.
+
+“Yes, brother,” replied Isabel, “there is; but such a one as if
+you consented to it would strip your honor from you and leave you
+naked.”
+
+“Let me know the point,” said Claudio.
+
+“Oh, I do fear you, Claudio!” replied his sister; “and I quake,
+lest you should wish to live, and more respect the trifling term
+of six or seven winters added to your life than your perpetual
+honor! Do you dare to die? The sense of death is most in
+apprehension, and the poor beetle that we tread upon feels a pang
+as great as when a giant dies.”
+
+“Why do you give me this shame?” said Claudio. “Think you I can
+fetch a resolution from flowery tenderness? If I must die, I will
+encounter darkness as a bride and hug it in my arms.”
+
+“There spoke my brother,” said Isabel; “there my father’s grave
+did utter forth a voice! Yes, you must die; yet would you think
+it, Claudio, this outward sainted deputy, if I would yield to him
+my virgin honor, would grant your life? Oh, were it but my life,
+I would lay it down for your deliverance as frankly as a pin!”
+
+“Thanks, dear Isabel,” said Claudio.
+
+“Be ready to die to-morrow,” said Isabel.
+
+“Death is a fearful thing,” said Claudio.
+
+“And shamed life a hateful,” replied his sister.
+
+But the thoughts of death now overcame the constancy of Claudio’s
+temper, and terrors, such as the guilty only at their deaths do
+know, assailing him, he cried out: “Sweet sister, let me live!
+The sin you do to save a brother’s life, nature dispenses with
+the deed so far that it becomes a virtue.”
+
+“O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!” said Isabel. “Would you
+preserve your life by your sister’s shame? Oh, fie, fie, fie! I
+thought, my brother, you had in you such a mind of honor that,
+had you twenty heads to render up on twenty blocks, you would
+have yielded them up all before your sister should stoop to such
+dishonor.”
+
+“Nay, hear me, Isabel!” said Claudio.
+
+But what he would have said in defense of his weakness in
+desiring to live by the dishonor of his virtuous sister was
+interrupted by the entrance of the duke; who said:
+
+“Claudio, I have overheard what has passed between you and your
+sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; what he
+said, has only been to make trial of her virtue. She, having the
+truth of honor in her, has given him that gracious denial which
+he is most ill glad to receive. There is no hope that he will
+pardon you; therefore pass your hours in prayer, and make ready
+for death.”
+
+Then Claudio repented of his weakness, and said: “Let me ask my
+sister’s pardon! I am so out of love with life that I will sue to
+be rid of it.” And Claudio retired, overwhelmed with shame and
+sorrow for his fault.
+
+The duke, being now alone with Isabel, commended her virtuous
+resolution, saying, “The hand that made you fair has made you
+good.”
+
+“Oh,” said Isabel, “how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo!
+If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will discover his
+government.” Isabel knew not that she was even now making the
+discovery she threatened.
+
+The duke replied: “That shall not be much amiss; yet as the
+matter now stands, Angelo will repel your accusation; therefore
+lend an attentive ear to my advisings. I believe that you may
+most righteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem
+your brother from the angry law, do no stain to your own most
+gracious person, and much please the absent duke, if peradventure
+he shall ever return to have notice of this business.”
+
+Isabel said she had a spirit to do anything he desired, provided
+it was nothing wrong.
+
+“Virtue is bold and never fearful,” said the duke: and then he
+asked her, if she had ever heard of Mariana, the sister of
+Frederick, the great soldier who was drowned at sea.
+
+“I have heard of the lady,” said Isabel, “and good words went
+with her name.”
+
+“This lady,” said the duke, “is the wife of Angelo; but her
+marriage dowry was on board the vessel in which her brother
+perished, and mark how heavily this befell to the poor
+gentlewoman! for, besides the loss of a most noble and renowned
+brother, who in his love toward her was ever most kind and
+natural, in the wreck of her fortune she lost the affections of
+her husband, the well-seeming Angelo, who, pretending to discover
+some dishonor in this honorable lady (though the true cause was
+the loss of her dowry), left her in her tears and dried not one
+of them with his comfort. His unjust unkindness, that in all
+reason should have quenched her love, has, like an impediment in
+the current, made it more unruly, and Mariana loves her cruel
+husband with the full continuance of her first affection.”
+
+The duke then more plainly unfolded his plan. It was that Isabel
+should go to Lord Angelo and seemingly consent to come to him as
+he desired at midnight; that by this means she would obtain the
+promised pardon; and that Mariana should go in her stead to the
+appointment, and pass herself upon Angelo in the dark for Isabel.
+
+“Nor, gentle daughter,” said the feigned friar, “fear you to this
+thing. Angelo is her husband, and to bring them thus together is
+no sin.
+
+Isabel, being pleased with this project, departed to do as he
+directed her; and he went to apprise Mariana of their intention.
+He had before this time visited this unhappy lady in his assumed
+character, giving her religious instruction and friendly
+consolation, at which times he had learned her sad story from her
+own lips; and now she, looking upon him as a holy man, readily
+consented to be directed by him in this undertaking.
+
+When Isabel returned from her interview with Angelo, to the house
+of Mariana, where the duke had appointed her to meet him, he
+said: “Well met, and in good time. What is the news from this
+good deputy?”
+
+Isabel related the manner in which she had settled the affair.
+“Angelo,” said she, “has a garden surrounded with a brick wall,
+on the western side of which is a vineyard, and to that vineyard
+is a gate.” And then she showed to the duke and Mariana two keys
+that Angelo had given her; and she said: “This bigger key opens
+the vineyard gate; this other a little door which leads from the
+vineyard to the garden. There I have made my promise at the dead
+of the night to call upon him, and have got from him his word of
+assurance for my brother’s life. I have taken a due and wary note
+of the place; and with whispering and most guilty diligence he
+showed me the way twice over.”
+
+“Are there no other tokens agreed upon between you, that Mariana
+must observe?” said the duke.
+
+“No, none,” said Isabel, “only to go when it is dark. I have told
+him my time can be but short; for I have made him think a servant
+comes along with me, and that this servant is persuaded I come
+about my brother.”
+
+The duke commended her discreet management, and she, turning to
+Mariana, said, “Little have you to say to Angelo, when you depart
+from him, but soft and low, REMEMBER NOW MY BROTHER!”
+
+Mariana was that night conducted to the appointed place by
+Isabel, who rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by this
+device preserved both her brother’s life and her own honor. But
+that her brother’s life was safe the duke was not well satisfied,
+and therefore at midnight he again repaired to the prison, and it
+was well for Claudio that he did so, else would Claudio have that
+night been beheaded; for soon after the duke entered the prison
+an order came from the cruel deputy commanding that Claudio
+should be beheaded and his head sent to him by five o’clock in
+the morning. But the duke persuaded the provost to put off the
+execution of Claudio, and to deceive Angelo by sending him the
+head of a man who died that morning in the prison. And to prevail
+upon the provost to agree to this, the duke, whom still the
+provost suspected not to be anything more or greater than he
+seemed, showed the provost a letter written with the duke’s hand,
+and sealed with his seal, which when the provost saw, he
+concluded this friar must have some secret order from the absent
+duke, and therefore he consented to spare Claudio; and he cut off
+the dead man’s head and carried it to Angelo.
+
+Then the duke in his own name wrote to Angelo a letter saying
+that certain accidents had put a stop to his journey and that he
+should be in Vienna by the following morning, requiring Angelo to
+meet him at the entrance of the city, there to deliver up his
+authority; and the duke also commanded it to be proclaimed that
+if any of his subjects craved redress for injustice they should
+exhibit their petitions in the street on his first entrance into
+the city.
+
+Early in the morning Isabel came to the prison, and the duke, who
+there awaited her coming, for secret reasons thought it good to
+tell her that Claudio was beheaded; therefore when Isabel
+inquired if Angelo had sent the pardon for her brother, he said:
+
+“Angelo has released Claudio from this world. His head is off and
+sent to the deputy.”
+
+The much-grieved sister cried out, “O unhappy Claudio, wretched
+Isabel, injurious world, most wicked Angelo!”
+
+The seeming friar bid her take comfort, and when she was become a
+little calm he acquainted her with the near prospect of  the
+duke’s return and told her in what manner she should proceed in
+preferring her complaint against Angelo; and he bade her not fear
+if the cause should seem to go against her for a while. Leaving
+Isabel sufficiently instructed, he next went to Mariana and gave
+her counsel in what manner she also should act.
+
+Then the duke laid aside his friar’s habit, and in his own royal
+robes, amid a joyful crowd of his faithful subjects assembled to
+greet his arrival, entered the city of Vienna, where he was met
+by Angelo, who delivered up his authority in the proper form. And
+there came Isabel, in the manner of a petitioner for redress, and
+said:
+
+“Justice, most royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who,
+for the seducing a young maid, was condemned to lose his head. I
+made my suit to lord Angelo for my brother’s pardon. It were
+needless to tell your Grace how I prayed and kneeled, how he
+repelled me, and how I replied; for this was of much length. The
+vile conclusion I now begin with grief and pain to utter. Angelo
+would not, but by my yielding to his dishonorable love, release
+my brother; and after much debate within myself my sisterly
+remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him. But the next
+morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his promise, sent a warrant
+for my poor brother’s head!”
+
+The duke affected to disbelieve her story; and Angelo said that
+grief for her brother’s death, who had suffered by the due course
+of the law, had disordered her senses.
+
+And now another suitor approached, which was Mariana; and Mariana
+said: “Noble prince, as there comes light from heaven and truth
+from breath, as there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am
+this man’s wife, and, my good lord, the words of Isabel are
+false, for the night she says she was with Angelo I passed that
+night with him in the garden-house. As this is true let me in
+safety rise, or else forever be fixed here a marble monument.”
+
+Then did Isabel appeal for the truth of what she had said to
+Friar Lodowick, that being the name the duke had assumed in his
+disguise. Isabel and Mariana had both obeyed his instructions in
+what they said, the duke intending that the innocence of Isabel
+should be plainly proved in that public manner before the whole
+city of Vienna; but Angelo little thought that it was from such a
+cause that they thus differed in their story, and he hoped from
+their contradictory evidence to be able to clear himself from the
+accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming the look of offended
+innocence:
+
+“I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is
+touched, and I perceive these poor, distracted women are but the
+instruments of some greater one who sets them on. Let me have
+way, my lord, to find this practice out.”
+
+“Aye, with all my heart,” said the duke, “and punish them to the
+height of your pleasure. You, Lord Escalus, sit with Lord Angelo,
+lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for
+that set them on, and when he comes do with your injuries as may
+seem best in any chastisement. I for a while will leave you, but
+stir not you, Lord Angelo, till you have well determined upon
+this slander.” The duke then went away, leaving Angelo well
+pleased to be deputed judge and umpire in his own cause. But the
+duke was absent only while he threw off his royal robes and put
+on his friar’s habit; and in that disguise again he presented
+himself before Angelo and Escalus. And the good old Escalus, who
+thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed
+friar, “Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord
+Angelo?”
+
+He replied: “Where is the duke? It is he who should hear me
+speak.”
+
+Escalus said: “The duke is in us, and we will hear you. Speak
+justly.”
+
+“Boldly, at least,” retorted the friar; and then he blamed the
+duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had
+accused, and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had
+observed while, as he said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna,
+that, Escalus threatened, him with the torture for speaking words
+against the state and for censuring the conduct of the duke, and
+ordered him to be taken away to prison. Then, to the amazement of
+all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the supposed
+friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke
+himself.
+
+The duke first addressed Isabel. He said to her: “Come hither,
+Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have
+not changed my heart. I am still devoted to your service.”
+
+“Oh, give me pardon,” said Isabel, “that I, your vassal, have
+employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty.”
+
+He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her for not
+having prevented the death of her brother for not yet would he
+tell her that Claudio was living; meaning first to make a further
+trial of her goodness.
+
+Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad
+deeds, and be said: “O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than
+my guiltiness, to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive
+your Grace, like power divine, has looked upon my actions. Then,
+good prince, no longer prolong my shame, but let my trial be my
+own confession. Immediate sentence and death is all the grace I
+beg.”
+
+The duke replied: “Angelo, thy faults are manifest. We do condemn
+thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with
+like haste away with him; and for his possessions, Mariana, we do
+instate and widow you withal, to buy you a better husband.”
+
+“O my dear lord,” said Mariana, “I crave no other, nor no better
+man!” And then on her knees, even as Isabel had begged the life
+of Claudio, did this kind wife of an ungrateful husband beg the
+life of Angelo; and she said: “Gentle my liege, O good my lord!
+Sweet Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees and all my life to
+come I will lend you all my life, to do you service!”
+
+The duke said: “Against all sense you importune her. Should
+Isabel kneel down to beg for mercy, her brother’s ghost would
+break his paved bed and take her hence in horror.”
+
+Still Mariana said: “Isabel, sweet Isabel, do but kneel by me,
+hold up your hand, say nothing! I will speak all. They say best
+men are molded out of faults, and for the most part become much
+the better for being a little bad. So may my husband. O Isabel!
+will you not lend a knee?”
+
+The duke then said, “He dies for Claudio.” But much pleased was
+the good duke when his own Isabel, from whom he expected all
+gracious and honorable acts, kneeled down before him, and said:
+“Most bounteous sir, look, if it please you, on this man
+condemned, as if my brother lived. I partly think a due sincerity
+governed his deeds till he did look on me. Since it is so, let
+him not die! My brother had but justice in that he did the thing
+for which he died.”
+
+The duke, as the best reply he could make to this noble
+petitioner for her enemy’s life, sending for Claudio from his
+prisonhouse, where he lay doubtful of his destiny, presented to
+her this lamented brother living; and he said to Isabel: “Give me
+your hand, Isabel. For your lovely sake I pardon Claudio. Say you
+will be mine, and he shall be my brother, too.”
+
+By this time Lord Angelo perceived he was safe; and the duke,
+observing his eye to brighten up a little, said:
+
+“Well, Angelo, look that you love your wife; her worth has
+obtained your pardon. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I
+have confessed her and know her virtue.”
+
+Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief authority, how
+hard his heart had been, and felt how sweet is mercy.
+
+The duke commanded Claudio to marry Juliet, and offered himself
+again to the acceptance of Isabel, whose virtuous and noble
+conduct had won her prince’s heart. Isabel, not having taken the
+veil, was free to marry; and the friendly offices, while hid
+under the disguise of a humble friar, which the noble duke had
+done for her, made her with grateful joy accept the honor he
+offered her; and when she became Duchess of Vienna the excellent
+example of the virtuous Isabel worked such a complete reformation
+among the young ladies of that city, that from that time none
+ever fell into the transgression of Juliet, the repentant wife of
+the reformed Claudio. And the mercy-loving duke long reigned with
+his beloved Isabel, the happiest of husbands and of princes.
+
+
+
+
+TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+
+
+Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of
+Messaline, were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder)
+from their birth they so much resembled each other that, but for
+the difference in their dress, they could not be known apart.
+They were both born in one hour, and in one hour they were both
+in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on the coast of
+Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship on
+board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and
+a very small number of the ship’s company escaped with their
+lives. The captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that
+were saved, got to land in a small boat, and with them they
+brought Viola safe on shore, where she, poor lady, instead of
+rejoicing at her own deliverance, began to lament her brother’s
+loss; but the captain comforted her with the assurance that he
+had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten himself to a
+strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of him
+for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves.
+Viola was much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and
+now considered bow she was to dispose of herself in a strange
+country, so far from home; and she asked the captain if he knew
+anything of Illyria.
+
+“Aye, very well, madam,” replied the captain, “for I was born not
+three hours’ travel from this place.”
+
+“Who governs here?” said Viola. The captain told her Illyria was
+governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.
+
+Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he
+was unmarried then.
+
+“And he is so now,” said the captain; “or was so very late for,
+but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
+talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of)
+that Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the
+daughter of a count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to
+the protection of her brother, who shortly after died also; and
+for the love of this dear brother, they say, she has abjured the
+sight and company of men.”
+
+Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother’s
+loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly
+mourned a brother’s death. She asked the captain if be could
+introduce her to Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this
+lady. But he replied this would be a hard thing to accomplish,
+because the Lady Olivia would admit no person into her house
+since her brother’s death, not even the duke himself. Then Viola
+formed another project in her mind, which was, in a man’s habit,
+to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange fancy in a
+young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
+forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of
+uncommon beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her
+excuse.
+
+She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he
+showed a friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her
+design, and he readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him
+money and directed him to furnish her with suitable apparel,
+ordering her clothes to be made of the same color and in the same
+fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and when she was
+dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her brother
+that some strange errors happened by means of their being
+mistaken for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian
+was also saved.
+
+Viola’s good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
+pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got
+her presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The
+duke was wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful
+deportment of this handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his
+pages, that being the office Viola wished to obtain; and she so
+well fulfilled the duties of her new station, and showed such a
+ready observance and faithful attachment to her lord, that she
+soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
+confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To
+Cesario he told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one
+who, rejecting his long services and despising his person,
+refused to admit him to her presence; and for the love of this
+lady who had so unkindly treated him the noble Orsino, forsaking
+the sports of the field and all manly exercises in which he
+used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth, listening to
+the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and passionate
+love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
+lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long
+conversing with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his
+grave courtiers thought Cesario was for their once noble master,
+the great Duke Orsino.
+
+It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes
+of handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her
+sorrow, for all that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she
+presently perceived she suffered for the love of him, and much it
+moved her wonder that Olivia could be so regardless of this her
+peerless lord and master, whom she thought no one could behold
+without the deepest admiration, and she ventured gently to hint
+to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a lady who was so
+blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:
+
+“If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
+perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in
+return) would you not tell her that you could not love, and must
+she not be content with this answer?”
+
+But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that
+it was possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no
+woman’s heart was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore
+it was unfair to compare the love of any lady for him to his love
+for Olivia. Now, though Viola had the utmost deference for the
+duke’s opinions, she could not help thinking this was not quite
+true, for she thought her heart had full as much love in it as
+Orsino’s had; and she said:
+
+“Ah, but I know, my lord.”
+
+“What do you know, Cesario?” said Orsino.
+
+“Too well I know,” replied Viola, “what love women may owe to
+men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a
+daughter loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love
+your lordship.”
+
+“And what is her history?” said Orsino.
+
+“A blank, my lord,” replied Viola. “She never told her love, but
+let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
+cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow
+melancholy she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at
+Grief.”
+
+The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this
+question Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had
+feigned the story, to speak words expressive of the secret love
+and silent grief she suffered for Orsino.
+
+While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had
+sent to Olivia, and he said, “So please you, my lord, I might not
+be admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you
+this answer: Until seven years hence the element itself shall not
+behold her face; but like a cloistress she will walk veiled,
+watering her chamber with her tears for the sad remembrance of
+her dead brother.”
+
+On hearing this the duke exclaimed, “Oh, she that has a heart of
+this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how
+will she love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!”
+
+And then he said to Viola: “You know, Cesario, I have told you
+all the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to
+Olivia’s house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell
+her there your fixed foot shall grow till you have audience.”
+
+“And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?” said Viola.
+
+“Oh, then,” replied Orsino, “unfold to her the passion of my
+love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well
+become you to act my woes, for she will attend more to you than
+to one of graver aspect.”
+
+Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this
+courtship, for she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she
+wished to marry; but, having undertaken the affair, she performed
+it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard that a youth was at her
+door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.
+
+“I told him,” said the servant, “that you were sick. He said he
+knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told
+him that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of
+that, too, and said that therefore he must speak with you. What
+is to be said to him, lady? for he seems fortified against all
+denial, and will speak with you, whether you will or no.”
+
+Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be,
+desired be might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her
+face, she said she would once more hear Orsino’s embassy, not
+doubting but that he came from the duke, by his importunity.
+Viola, entering, put on the most manly air she could assume, and,
+affecting the fine courtier language of great men’s pages, she
+said to the veiled lady:
+
+“Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell
+me if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to
+cast away my speech upon another; for besides that it is
+excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to learn it.”
+
+“Whence come you, sir?” said Olivia.
+
+“I can say little more than I have studied,” replied Viola, and
+that question is out of my part.”
+
+“Are you a comedian?” said Olivia.
+
+“No,” replied Viola; “and yet I am not that which I play,”
+ meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man. And
+again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.
+
+Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see
+her rival’s features than haste to deliver her master’s message,
+said, “Good madam, let me see your face.” With this bold request
+Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom
+the Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight
+conceived a passion for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.
+
+When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, “Have you any
+commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?”
+ And then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven
+long years, she drew aside her veil, saying: “But I will draw the
+curtain and show the picture. Is it not well done?”
+
+Viola replied: “It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
+your cheeks is by Nature’s own cunning hand laid on. You are the
+most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and
+leave the world no copy.”
+
+“Oh, sir,” replied Olivia, “I will not be so cruel. The world may
+have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
+red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin;
+and so forth. Were you sent here to praise me?”
+
+Viola replied, “I see what you are: you are too proud, but you
+are fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but
+be recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for
+Orsino loves you with adoration and with tears, with groans that
+thunder love, and sighs of fire.”
+
+“Your lord,” said Olivia, “knows well my mind. I cannot love him;
+yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
+high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him
+learned, courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might
+have taken his answer long ago.”
+
+“If I did love you as my master does,” said Viola, “I would make
+me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I would
+write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
+the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would
+make Echo, the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh,
+you should not rest between the elements of earth and air, but
+you should pity me.”
+
+“You might do much,” said Olivia. “What is your parentage?’”
+
+Viola replied: “Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
+gentleman.”
+
+Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: “Go to your
+master and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more,
+‘unless perchance you come again to tell me how he takes it.”
+
+And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair
+Cruelty. When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY
+FORTUNES, YET MY STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said
+aloud, “I will be sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs,
+action, and spirit plainly show he is a gentleman.” And then she
+wished Cesario was the duke; and, perceiving the fast hold he had
+taken on her affections, she blamed herself for her sudden love;
+but the gentle blame which people lay upon their own faults has
+no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so far forgot
+the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
+page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament
+of a lady’s character, that she resolved to court the love of
+young Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring,
+under the pretense that he had left it with her as a present from
+Orsino. She hoped by thus artfully making Cesario a present of
+the ring she should give him some intimation of her design; and
+truly it did make Viola suspect; for, knowing that Orsino had
+sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that Olivia’s looks
+and manner were expressive of admiration, and she presently
+guessed her master’s mistress had fallen in love with her.
+
+“Alas!” said she, “the poor lady might as well love a dream.
+Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
+fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino.”
+
+Viola returned to Orsino’s palace, and related to her lord the
+ill success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia
+that the duke should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke
+persisted in hoping that the gentle Cesario would in time be able
+to persuade her to show some pity, and therefore he bade him he
+should go to her again the next day. In the mean time, to pass
+away the tedious interval, he commanded a song which he loved to
+be sung; and he said:
+
+“My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
+did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and
+plain. The spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun,
+and the young maids that weave their thread with bone, chant this
+song. It is silly, yet I love it, for it tells of the innocence
+of love in the old times.”
+
+   SONG
+
+  Come away, come away, Death,
+    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+  Fly away, fly away, breath,
+    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
+My part of death no one so true did share it.
+  Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
+    On my black coffin let there be strewn:
+  Not a friend, not a friend greet
+    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
+A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where
+Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
+
+Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in
+such true simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and
+she bore testimony in her countenance of feeling what the song
+expressed. Her sad looks were observed by Orsino, who said to
+her:
+
+“My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
+looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?”
+
+“A little, with your leave,” replied Viola.
+
+“And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?” said Orsino.
+
+“Of your age and of your complexion, my lord,” said Viola; which
+made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
+much older than himself and of a man’s dark complexion; but Viola
+secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.
+
+When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no
+difficulty in gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when
+their ladies delight to converse with handsome young messengers;
+and the instant Viola arrived the gates were thrown wide open,
+and the duke’s page was shown into Olivia’s apartment with great
+respect. And when Viola told Olivia that she was come once more
+to plead in her lord’s behalf, this lady said:
+
+“I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
+undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music
+from the spheres.”
+
+This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself
+still more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she
+saw displeasure with perplexity expressed in Viola’s face, she
+said: “Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt
+and anger of his lip! Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by
+maidhood, honor, and by truth, I love you so that, in spite of
+your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to conceal my passion.”
+
+But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence,
+threatening never more to come to plead Orsino’s love; and all
+the reply she made to Olivia’s fond solicitation was, a
+declaration of a resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.
+
+No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her
+valor. A gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned
+how that lady had favored the duke’s messenger, challenged him to
+fight a duel. What should poor Viola do, who, though she carried
+a man-like outside, had a true woman’s heart and feared to look
+on her own sword?
+
+When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his
+sword drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a
+woman; but she was relieved at once from her terror, and the
+shame of such a discovery, by a stranger that was passing by, who
+made up to them, and as if he had been long known to her and were
+her dearest friend said to her opponent:
+
+“If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault
+on me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you.”
+
+Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to
+inquire the reason of his kind interference, her new friend met
+with an enemy where his bravery was of no use to him; for the
+officers of justice coming up in that instant, apprehended the
+stranger in the duke’s name, to answer for an offense he had
+committed some years before; and he said to Viola:
+
+“This comes with seeking you.” And then he asked her for a purse,
+saying: “Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
+grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what
+befalls myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort.”
+
+His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him
+not, nor had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness
+he had just shown her she offered him a small sum of money, being
+nearly the whole she possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe
+things, charging her with ingratitude and unkindness. He said:
+
+“This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death,
+and for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into
+this danger.”
+
+But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of
+their prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, “What is that
+to us?” And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name
+of Sebastian, reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning
+his friend, as long as he was within hearing. When Viola heard
+herself called Sebastian, though the stranger was taken away too
+hastily for her to ask an explanation, she conjectured that this
+seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken for her
+brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
+whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was.
+The stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had
+taken Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with
+fatigue, he was floating on the mast to which he had fastened
+himself in the storm. Antonio conceived such a friendship for
+Sebastian that he resolved to accompany him whithersoever he
+went; and when the youth expressed a curiosity to visit Orsino’s
+court, Antonio, rather than part from him, came to Illyria,
+though he knew, if his person should be known there, his life
+would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
+dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino’s nephew. This was the
+offense for which he was now made a prisoner.
+
+Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before
+Antonio met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring
+him to use it freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase,
+telling him he would wait at the inn while Sebastian went to view
+the town; but, Sebastian not returning at the time appointed,
+Antonio had ventured out to look for him, and, priest made Orsino
+believe that his page had robbed him of the treasure he prized
+above his life. But thinking that it was past recall, he was
+bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
+DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to
+come in his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle
+appeared! for another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as
+his wife. This new Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of
+Olivia; and when their wonder had a little ceased at seeing two
+persons with the same face, the same voice, and the same habit,
+the brother and sister began to question each other; for Viola
+could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living, and
+Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed
+drowned being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola
+presently acknowledged that she was indeed Viola, and his sister,
+under that disguise.
+
+When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness
+between this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at
+the Lady Olivia for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling
+in love with a woman; and Olivia showed no dislike to her
+exchange, when she found she had wedded the brother instead of
+the sister.
+
+The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of
+Olivia, and with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to
+vanish away, and all his thoughts were fixed on the event of his
+favorite, young Cesario, being changed into a fair lady. He
+viewed Viola with great attention, and he remembered how very
+handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he concluded she
+would look very beautiful in a woman’s attire; and then he
+remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the
+time seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but
+now he guessed that something more was meant, for many of her
+pretty sayings, which were like riddles to him, came now into his
+mind, and he no sooner remembered all these things than he
+resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to her (he still
+could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):
+
+“Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
+love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have
+done for me so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and
+since you have called me master so long, you shall now be your
+master’s mistress, and Orsino’s true duchess.”
+
+Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she
+had so ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her
+house and offered the assistance of the good priest who had
+married her to Sebastian in the morning to perform the same
+ceremony in the remaining part of the day for Orsino and Viola.
+Thus the twin brother and sister were both wedded on the same
+day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them being the
+means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
+was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the
+husband of the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.
+
+
+
+
+TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+Timon, a lord of Athens, in the enjoyment of a princely fortune,
+affected a humor of liberality which knew no limits. His almost
+infinite wealth could not flow in so fast but he poured it out
+faster upon all sorts and degrees of people. Not the poor only
+tasted of his bounty, but great lords did not disdain to rank
+themselves among his dependents and followers. His table was
+resorted to by all the luxurious feasters, and his house was open
+to all comers and goers at Athens. His large wealth combined with
+his free and prodigal nature to subdue all hearts to his love;
+men of all minds and dispositions tendered their services to Lord
+Timon, from the glass-faced flatterer whose face reflects as in a
+mirror the present humor of his patron, to the rough and
+unbending cynic who, affecting a contempt of men’s persons and an
+indifference to worldly things, yet could not stand out against
+the gracious manners and munificent soul of Lord Timon, but would
+come (against his nature) to partake of his royal entertainments
+and return most rich in his own estimation if he had received a
+nod or a salutation from Timon.
+
+If a poet had composed a work which wanted a recommendatory
+introduction to the world, he had no more to do but to dedicate
+it to Lord Timon, and the poem was sure of sale, besides a
+present purse from the patron, and daily access to his house and
+table. If a painter had a picture to dispose of he had only to
+take it to Lord Timon and pretend to consult his taste as to the
+merits of it; nothing more was wanting to persuade the liberal-
+hearted lord to buy it. If a jeweler had a stone of price, or a
+mercer rich, costly stuffs, which for their costliness lay upon
+his hands, Lord Timon’s house was a ready mart always open, where
+they might get off their wares or their jewelry at any price, and
+the good-natured lord would thank them into the bargain, as if
+they had done him a piece of courtesy in letting him have the
+refusal of such precious commodities. So that by this means his
+house was thronged with superfluous purchases, of no use but to
+swell uneasy and ostentatious pomp; and his person was still more
+inconveniently beset with a crowd of these idle visitors, lying
+poets, painters, sharking tradesmen, lords, ladies, needy
+courtiers, and expectants, who continually filled his lobbies,
+raining their fulsome flatteries in whispers in his ears,
+sacrificing to him with adulation as to a God, making sacred the
+very stirrup by which he mounted his horse, and seeming as though
+they drank the free air but through his permission and bounty.
+
+Some of these daily dependents were young men of birth who (their
+means not answering to their extravagance) had been put in prison
+by creditors and redeemed thence by Lord Timon; these young
+prodigals thenceforward fastened upon his lordship, as if by
+common sympathy he were necessarily endeared to all such
+spendthrifts and loose livers, who, not being able to follow him
+in his wealth, found it easier to copy him in prodigality and
+copious spending of what was their own. One of these flesh-flies
+was Ventidius, for whose debts, unjustly contracted, Timon but
+lately had paid down the sum of five talents.
+
+But among this confluence, this great flood of visitors, none
+were more conspicuous than the makers of presents and givers of
+gifts. It was fortunate for these men if Timon took a fancy to a
+dog or a horse, or any piece of cheap furniture which was theirs.
+The thing so praised, whatever it was, was sure to be sent the
+next morning with the compliments of the giver for Lord Timon’s
+acceptance, and apologies for the unworthiness of the gift; and
+this dog or horse, or whatever it might be, did not fail to
+produce from Timon’s bounty, who would not be outdone in gifts,
+perhaps twenty dogs or horses, certainly presents of far richer
+worth, as these pretended donors knew well enough, and that their
+false presents were but the putting out of so much money at large
+and speedy interest. In this way Lord Lucius had lately sent to
+Timon a present of four milk-white horses, trapped in silver,
+which this cunning lord had observed Timon upon some occasion to
+commend; and another lord, Lucullus, had bestowed upon him in the
+same pretended way of free gift a brace of greyhounds whose make
+and fleetness Timon had been heard to admire; these presents the
+easy-hearted lord accepted without suspicion of the dishonest
+views of the presenters; and the givers of course were rewarded
+with some rich return, a diamond or some jewel of twenty times
+the value of their false and mercenary donation.
+
+Sometimes these creatures would go to work in a more direct way,
+and with gross and palpable artifice, which yet the credulous
+Timon was too blind to see, would affect to admire and praise
+something that Timon possessed, a bargain that he had bought, or
+some late purchase, which was sure to draw from this yielding and
+soft-hearted lord a gift of the thing commended, for no service
+in the world done for it but the easy expense of a little cheap
+and obvious flattery. In this way Timon but the other day had
+given to one of these mean lords the bay courser which he himself
+rode upon, because his lordship had been pleased to say that it
+was a handsome beast and went well; and Timon knew that no man
+ever justly praised what he did not wish to possess. For Lord
+Timon weighed his friends’ affection with his own, and so fond
+was he of bestowing, that be could have dealt kingdoms to these
+supposed friends and never have been weary.
+
+Not that Timon’s wealth all went to enrich these wicked
+flatterers; he could do noble and praiseworthy actions; and when
+a servant of his once loved the daughter of a rich Athenian, but
+could not hope to obtain her by reason that in wealth and rank
+the maid was so far above him, Lord Timon freely bestowed upon
+his servant three Athenian talents, to make his fortune equal
+with the dowry which the father of the young maid demanded of him
+who should be her husband. But for the most part, knaves and
+parasites had the command of his fortune, false friends whom he
+did not know to be such, but, because they flocked around his
+person, he thought they must needs love him; and because they
+smiled and flattered him, he thought surely that his conduct was
+approved by all the wise and good. And when be was feasting in
+the midst of all these flatterers and mock friends, when they
+were eating him up and draining his fortunes dry with large
+draughts of richest wines drunk to his health and prosperity, be
+could not perceive the difference of a friend from a flatterer,
+but to his deluded eyes (made proud with the sight) it seemed a
+precious comfort to have so many like brothers commanding one
+another’s fortunes (though it was his own fortune which paid all
+the costs), and with joy they would run over at the spectacle of
+such, as it appeared to him, truly festive and fraternal meeting.
+
+But while he thus outwent the very heart of kindness, and poured
+out his bounty, as if Plutus, the god of gold, had been but his
+steward; while thus he proceeded without care or stop, so
+senseless of expense that he would neither inquire how he could
+maintain it nor cease his wild flow of riot--his riches, which
+were not infinite, must needs melt away before a prodigality
+which knew no limits. But who should tell him so? His flatterers?
+They had an interest in shutting his eyes. In vain did his honest
+steward Flavius try to represent to him his condition, laying his
+accounts before him, begging of him, praying of him, with an
+importunity that on any other occasion would have been unmannerly
+in a servant, beseeching him with tears to look into the state of
+his affairs. Timon would still put him off, and turn the
+discourse to something else; for nothing is so deaf to
+remonstrance as riches turned to poverty, nothing is so unwilling
+to believe its situation, nothing so incredulous to its own true
+state, and hard to give credit to a reverse. Often had this good
+steward, this honest creature, when all the rooms of Timon’s
+great house had been choked up with riotous feeders at his
+master’s cost, when the floors have wept with drunken spilling of
+wine, and every apartment has blazed with lights and resounded
+with music and feasting, often had he retired by himself to some
+solitary spot, and wept faster than the wine ran from the
+wasteful casks within, to see the mad bounty of his lord, and to
+think, when the means were gone which brought him praises from
+all sorts of people, how quickly the breath would be gone of
+which the praise was made; praises won in feasting would be lost
+in fasting, and at one cloud of winter-showers these flies would
+disappear.
+
+But now the time was come that Timon could shut his ears no
+longer to the representations of this faithful steward. Money
+must be had; and when he ordered Flavius to sell some of his land
+for that purpose, Flavius informed him, what he had in vain
+endeavored at several times before to make him listen to, that
+most of his land was already sold or forfeited, and that all he
+possessed at present was not enough to pay the one-half of what
+he owed. Struck with wonder at this presentation, Timon hastily
+replied:
+
+“My lands extend from Athens to Lacedoemon.”
+
+“O my good lord,” said Flavius, “the world is but a world, and
+has bounds. Were it all yours to give in a breath, how quickly
+were it gone!”
+
+Timon consoled himself that no villainous bounty had yet come
+from him, that if he had given his wealth away unwisely, it had
+not been bestowed to feed his vices, but to cherish his friends;
+and he bade the kind-hearted steward (who was weeping) to take
+comfort in the assurance that his master could never lack means
+while he had so many noble friends; and this infatuated lord
+persuaded himself that he had nothing to do but to send and
+borrow, to use every man’s fortune (that had ever tasted his
+bounty) in this extremity, as freely as his own. Then with a
+cheerful look, as if confident of the trial, he severally
+despatched messengers to Lord Lucius, to Lords Lucullus and
+Sempronius, men upon whom he had lavished his gifts in past times
+without measure or moderation; and to Ventidius, whom he had
+lately released out of prison by paying his debts, and who, by
+the death of his father, was now come into the possession of an
+ample fortune and well enabled to requite Timon’s courtesy; to
+request of Ventidius the return of those five talents which he
+had paid for him, and of each of those noble lords the loan
+of fifty talents; nothing doubting that their gratitude would
+supply his wants (if he needed it) to the amount of five hundred
+times fifty talents.
+
+Lucullus was the first applied to. This mean lord had been
+dreaming overnight of a silver bason and cup, and when Timon’s
+servant was announced his sordid mind suggested to him that this
+was surely a making out of his dream, and that Timon had sent him
+such a present. But when he understood the truth of the matter,
+and that Timon wanted money, the quality of his faint and
+watery friendship showed itself, for with many protestations he
+vowed to the servant that he had long foreseen the ruin of his
+master’s affairs, and many a time had he come to dinner to tell
+him of it, and had come again to supper to try to persuade him to
+spend less, but he would take no counsel nor warning by his
+coming. And true it was that he had been a constant attender (as
+he said) at Timon’s feasts, as he had in greater things tasted
+his bounty; but that he ever came with that intent, or gave good
+counsel or reproof to Timon, was a base, unworthy lie, which he
+suitably followed up with meanly offering the servant a bribe to
+go home to his master and tell him that be had not found Lucullus
+at home.
+
+As little success had the messenger who was sent to Lord Lucius.
+This lying lord, who was full of Timon’s meat and enriched almost
+to bursting with Timon’s costly presents, when he found the wind
+changed, and the fountain of so much bounty suddenly stopped, at
+first could hardly believe it; but on its being confirmed he
+affected great regret that he should not have it in his power to
+serve Lord Timon, for, unfortunately (which was a base
+falsehood), he had made a great purchase the day before, which
+had quite disfurnished him of the means at present, the more
+beast he, he called himself, to put it out of his power to serve
+so good a friend; and he counted it one of his greatest
+afflictions that his ability should fail him to pleasure such an
+honorable gentleman.
+
+Who can call any man friend that dips in the same dish with him?
+Just of this metal is every flatterer. In the recollection of
+everybody Timon had been a father to this Lucius, had kept up his
+credit with his purse; Timon’s money had gone to pay the wages of
+his servants, to pay the hire of the laborers who had sweat to
+build the fine houses which Lucius’s pride had made necessary to
+him. Yet---oh, the monster which man makes himself when he proves
+ungrateful!--this Lucius now denied to Timon a sum which, in
+respect of what Timon had bestowed on him, was less than
+charitable men afford to beggars.
+
+Sempronius, and every one of these mercenary lords to whom Timon
+applied in their turn, returned the same evasive answer or direct
+denial; even Ventidius, the redeemed and now rich Ventidius,
+refused to assist him with the loan of those five talents which
+Timon had not lent but generously given him in his distress.
+
+Now was Timon as much avoided in his poverty as he had been
+courted and resorted to in his riches. Now the same tongues which
+had been loudest in his praises, extolling him as bountiful,
+liberal, and open-handed, were not ashamed to censure that very
+bounty as folly, that liberality as profuseness, though it had
+shown itself folly in nothing so truly as in the selection of
+such unworthy creatures as themselves for its objects. Now was
+Timon’s princely mansion forsaken and become a shunned and hated
+place, a place for men to pass by, not a place, as formerly,
+where every passenger must stop and taste of his wine and good
+cheer; now, instead of being thronged with feasting and
+tumultuous guests, it was beset with impatient and clamorous
+creditors, usurers, extortioners, fierce and intolerable in their
+demands, pleading bonds, interest, mortgages; iron-hearted men
+that would take no denial nor putting off, that Timon’s house was
+now his jail, which he could not pass, nor go in nor out for
+them; one demanding his due of fifty talents, another bringing in
+a bill of five thousand crowns, which, if he would tell out his
+blood by drops and pay them so, he had not enough in his body to
+discharge, drop by drop.
+
+In this desperate and irremediable state (as it seemed) of his
+affairs, the eyes of all men were suddenly surprised at a new and
+incredible luster which this setting sun put forth. Once more
+Lord Timon proclaimed a feast, to which he invited his accustomed
+guests--lords, ladies, all that was great or fashionable in
+Athens. Lord Lucius and Lucullus came, Ventidius, Sempronius, and
+the rest. Who more sorry now than these fawning wretches, when
+they found (as they thought) that Lord Timon’s poverty was all
+pretense and had been only put on to make trial of their loves,
+to think that they should not have seen through the artifice at
+the time and have had the cheap credit of obliging his lordship?
+Yet who more glad to find the fountain of that noble bounty which
+they had thought dried up, still fresh and running? They came
+dissembling, protesting, expressing deepest sorrow and shame,
+that when his lordship sent to them they should have been so
+unfortunate as to want the present means to oblige so honorable a
+friend. But Timon begged them not to give such trifles a thought,
+for he had altogether forgotten it. And these base, fawning
+lords, though they had denied him money in his adversity, yet
+could not refuse their presence at this new blaze of his
+returning prosperity. For the swallow follows not summer more
+willingly than men of these dispositions follow the good fortunes
+of the great, nor more willingly leaves winter than these shrink
+from the first appearance of a reverse. Such summer birds are
+men. But now with music and state the banquet of smoking dishes
+was served up; and when the guests had a little done admiring
+whence the bankrupt Timon could find means to furnish so costly a
+feast, some doubting whether the scene which they saw was real,
+as scarce trusting their own eyes, at a signal given the dishes
+were uncovered and Timon’s drift appeared. Instead of those
+varieties and far-fetched dainties which they expected, that
+Timon’s epicurean table in past times had so liberally presented,
+now appeared under the covers of these dishes a preparation more
+suitable to Timon’s poverty--nothing but a little smoke and
+lukewarm water, fit feast for this knot of mouth-friends, whose
+professions were indeed smoke, and their hearts lukewarm and
+slippery as the water with which Timon welcomed his astonished
+guests, bidding them, “Uncover, dogs, and lap;” and, before they
+could recover their surprise, sprinkling it in their faces, that
+they might have enough, and throwing dishes and all after them,
+who now ran huddling out, lords, ladies, with their caps snatched
+up in haste, a splendid confusion, Timon pursuing them, still
+calling them what they were, “smooth smiling parasites,
+destroyers under the mask of courtesy, affable wolves, meek
+bears, fools of fortune, feast-friends, time-flies.” They,
+crowding out to avoid him, left the house more willingly
+than they had entered it; some losing their gowns and caps, and
+some their jewels in the hurry, all glad to escape out of the
+presence of such a mad lord, and from the ridicule of his mock
+banquet.
+
+This was the last feast which ever Timon made, and in it he took
+farewell of Athens and the society of men; for, after that, he
+betook himself to the woods, turning his back upon the hated
+city and upon all mankind, wishing the walls of that detestable
+city might sink, and the houses fall upon their owners, wishing
+all plagues which infest humanity--war, outrage, poverty,
+diseases--might fasten upon its inhabitants, praying the just
+gods to confound all Athenians, both young and old, high and low;
+so wishing, he went to the woods, where he said he should find
+the unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. He stripped himself
+naked, that he might retain no fashion of a man, and dug a cave
+to live in, and lived solitary in the manner of a beast, eating
+the wild roots and drinking water, flying from the face of his
+kind, and choosing rather to herd with wild beasts, as more
+harmless and friendly than man.
+
+What a change from Lord Timon the rich, Lord Timon the delight of
+mankind, to Timon the naked, Timon the man-hater! Where were his
+flatterers now? Where were his attendants and retinue? Would the
+bleak air, that boisterous servitor, be his chamberlain, to put
+his shirt on warm? Would those stiff trees that had outlived the
+eagle turn young and airy pages to him, to skip on his errands
+when he bade them? Would the cool brook, when it was iced with
+winter, administer to him his warm broths and caudles when sick
+of an overnight’s surfeit? Or would the creatures that lived in
+those wild woods come and lick his hand and flatter him?
+
+Here on a day, when he was digging for roots, his poor
+sustenance, his spade struck against something heavy, which
+proved to be gold, a great heap which some miser had probably
+buried in a time of alarm, thinking to have come again and taken
+it from its prison, but died before the opportunity had arrived,
+without making any man privy to the concealment; so it lay, doing
+neither good nor harm, in the bowels of the earth, its mother, as
+if it had never come thence, till the accidental striking of
+Timon’s spade against it once more brought it to light.
+
+Here was a mass of treasure which, if Timon had retained his old
+mind, was enough to have purchased him friends and flatterers
+again; but Timon was sick of the false world and the sight of
+gold was poisonous to his eyes; and he would have restored it to
+the earth, but that, thinking of the infinite calamities which by
+means of gold happen to mankind, how the lucre of it causes
+robberies, oppression, injustice, briberies, violence, and
+murder, among men, he had a pleasure in imagining (such a rooted
+hatred did he bear to his species) that out of this heap, which
+in digging he had discovered, might arise some mischief to plague
+mankind. And some soldiers passing through the woods near to his
+cave at that instant, which proved to be a part of the troops of
+the Athenian captain Alcibiades, who, upon some disgust taken
+against the senators of Athens (the Athenians were ever noted to
+be a thankless and ungrateful people, giving disgust to their
+generals and best friends), was marching at the head of the same
+triumphant army which he had formerly headed in their defense, to
+war against them. Timon, who liked their business well, bestowed
+upon their captain the gold to pay his soldiers, requiring no
+other service from him than that he should with his conquering
+army lay Athens level with the ground, and burn, slay, kill all
+her inhabitants; not sparing the old men for their white beards,
+for (he said) they were usurers, nor the young children for their
+seeming innocent smiles, for those (he said) would live, if they
+grew up, to be traitors; but to steel his eyes and ears against
+any sights or sounds that might awaken compassion; and not to let
+the cries of virgins, babes, or mothers hinder him from making
+one universal massacre of the city, but to confound them all in
+his conquest; and when he had conquered, he prayed that the gods
+would confound him also, the conqueror. So thoroughly did Timon
+hate Athens, Athenians, and all mankind.
+
+While he lived in this forlorn state, leading a life more brutal
+than human, he was suddenly surprised one day with the appearance
+of a man standing in an admiring posture at the door of his
+cave. It was Flavius, the honest steward, whom love and zealous
+affection to his master had led to seek him out at his wretched
+dwelling and to offer his services; and the first sight of his
+master, the once noble Timon, in that abject condition, naked as
+he was born, living in the manner of a beast among beasts,
+looking like his own sad ruins and a monument of decay, so
+affected this good servant that he stood speechless, wrapped up
+in horror and confounded. And when he found utterance at last to
+his words, they were so choked with tears that Timon had much ado
+to know him again, or to make out who it was that had come (so
+contrary to the experience he had had of mankind) to offer him
+service in extremity. And being in the form and shape of a man,
+he suspected him for a traitor, and his tears for false; but the
+good servant by so many tokens confirmed the truth of his
+fidelity, and made it clear that nothing but love and zealous
+duty to his once dear master had brought him there, that Timon
+was forced to confess that the world contained one honest man;
+yet, being in the shape and form of a man, be could not look upon
+his man’s face without abhorrence, or hear words uttered from his
+man’s lips without loathing; and this singly honest man was
+forced to depart, because he was a man, and because, with a heart
+more gentle and compassionate than is usual to man, he bore man’s
+detested form and outward feature.
+
+But greater visitants than a poor steward were about to interrupt
+the savage quiet of Timon’s solitude. For now the day was come
+when the ungrateful lords of Athens sorely repented the injustice
+which they had done to the noble Timon. For Alcibiades, like an
+incensed wild boar, was raging at the walls of their city, and
+with his hot siege threatened to lay fair Athens in the dust. And
+now the memory of Lord Timon’s former prowess and military
+conduct came fresh into their forgetful minds, for Timon had been
+their general in past times, and a valiant and expert soldier,
+who alone of all the Athenians was deemed able to cope with a
+besieging army such as then threatened them, or to drive back the
+furious approaches of Alcibiades.
+
+A deputation of the senators was chosen in this emergency to wait
+upon Timon. To him they come in their extremity, to whom, when he
+was in extremity, they had shown but small regard; as if they
+presumed upon his gratitude whom they had disobliged, and had
+derived a claim to his courtesy from their own most discourteous
+and unpiteous treatment.
+
+Now they earnestly beseech him, implore him with tears, to return
+and save that city from which their ingratitude had so lately
+driven him; now they offer him riches, power, dignities,,
+satisfaction for past injuries, and public honors, and the public
+love; their persons, lives, and fortunes to be at his disposal,
+if he will but come back and save them. But Timon the naked,
+Timon the man-hater, was no longer Lord Timon, the lord of
+bounty, the flower of valor, their defense in war, their ornament
+in peace. If Alcibiades killed his countrymen, Timon cared not.
+If he sacked fair Athens, and slew her old men and her infants,
+Timon would rejoice. So he told them; and that there was not a
+knife in the unruly camp which he did not prize above the
+reverendest throat in Athens.
+
+This was all the answer he vouchsafed to the weeping,
+disappointed senators; only at parting he bade them commend him
+to his countrymen, and tell them that to ease them of their
+griefs and anxieties, and to prevent the consequences of fierce
+Alcibiades’s wrath, there was yet a way left, which he would
+teach them, for he had yet so much affection left for his dear
+countrymen as to be willing to do them a kindness before his
+death. These words a little revived the senators, who hoped that
+his kindness for their city was returning. Then Timon told them
+that he had a tree, which grew near his cave, which he should
+shortly have occasion to cut down, and he invited all his friends
+in Athens, high or low , of whatsoever degree, who wished to shun
+affliction, to come and take a taste of his tree before he cut it
+down; meaning that they might come and hang themselves on it and
+escape affliction that way.
+
+And this was the last courtesy, of all his noble bounties, which
+Timon showed to mankind, and this the last sight of him which his
+countrymen had, for not many days after, a poor soldier, passing
+by the sea-beach which was at a little distance from the woods
+which Timon frequented, found a tomb on the verge of the sea,
+with an inscription upon it purporting that it was the grave of
+Timon the man-hater, who “While he lived, did hate all living
+men, and, dying, wished a plague might consume all caitiffs
+left!”
+
+Whether he finished his life by violence, or whether mere
+distaste of life and the loathing he had for mankind brought
+Timon to his conclusion, was not clear, yet all men admired the
+fitness of his epitaph and the consistency of his end, dying, as
+he had lived, a hater of mankind. And some there were who fancied
+a conceit in the very choice which he had made of the sea-beach
+for his place of burial, where the vast sea might weep forever
+upon his grave, as in contempt of the transient and shallow tears
+of hypocritical and deceitful mankind.
+
+
+
+
+ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+The two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the
+Montagues. There had been an old quarrel between these families,
+which was grown to such a height, and so deadly was the enmity
+between them, that it extended to the remotest kindred, to the
+followers and retainers of both sides, in so much that a servant
+of the house of Montague could not meet a servant of the house of
+Capulet, nor a Capulet encounter with a Montague by chance, but
+fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued; and frequent were
+the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the
+happy quiet of Verona’s streets.
+
+Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies
+and many noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of
+Verona were present, and all comers were made welcome if they
+were not of the house of Montague. At this feast of Capulets,
+Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to the old Lord Montague, was
+present; and though it was dangerous for a Montague to be seen in
+this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo, persuaded the
+young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask, that
+he might see his Rosaline, and, seeing her, compare her with some
+choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his
+swan a crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio’s words;
+nevertheless, for the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go.
+For Romeo was a sincere and passionate lover, and one that lost
+his sleep for love and fled society to be alone, thinking on
+Rosaline, who disdained him and never requited his love with the
+least show of courtesy or affection; and Benvolio wished to cure
+his friend of this love by showing him diversity of ladies and
+company. To this feast of Capulets, then, young Romeo, with
+Benvolio and their friend Mercutio, went masked. Old Capulet bid
+them welcome and told them that ladies who had their toes
+unplagued with corns would dance with them. And the old man was
+light-hearted and merry, and said that he had worn a mask when he
+was young and could have told a whispering tale in a fair lady’s
+ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly struck with
+the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to
+him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show
+by night like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor; beauty too rich
+for use, too dear for earth! like a snowy dove trooping with
+crows (he said), so richly did her beauty and perfections shine
+above the ladies her companions. While he uttered these praises
+he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord Capulet, who knew
+him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of a fiery
+and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should
+come under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at
+their solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and
+would have struck young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord
+Capulet, would not suffer him to do any injury at that time, both
+out of respect to his guests and because Romeo had borne himself
+like a gentleman and all tongues in Verona bragged of him to be a
+virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to be patient
+against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile
+Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.
+
+The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady
+stood; and under favor of his masking habit, which might seem to
+excuse in part the liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to
+take her by the hand, calling it a shrine, which if he profaned
+by touching it, he was a blushing pilgrim and would kiss it for
+atonement.
+
+“Good pilgrim,” answered the lady, “your devotion shows by far
+too mannerly and too courtly. Saints have hands which pilgrims
+may touch but kiss not.”
+
+“Have not saints lips, and pilgrims, too?” said Romeo.
+
+“Aye,” said the lady, “lips which they must use in prayer.”
+
+“Oh, then, my dear saint,” said Romeo, “hear my prayer, and grant
+it, lest I despair.”
+
+In such like allusions and loving conceits they were engaged when
+the lady was called away to her mother. And Romeo, inquiring who
+her mother was, discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty he
+was so much struck with was young Juliet, daughter and heir to
+the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues; and that he
+had unknowingly engaged his heart to his foe. This troubled him,
+but it could not dissuade him from loving. As little rest had
+Juliet when she found that the gentle man that she had been
+talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly
+smit with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo
+which he had conceived for her; and a prodigious birth of love it
+seemed to her, that she must love her enemy and that her
+affections should settle there, where family considerations
+should induce her chiefly to hate.
+
+It being midnight, Romeo with his companions departed; but they
+soon missed him, for, unable to stay away from the house where he
+had left his heart, he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at
+the back of Juliet’s house. Here he had not been long, ruminating
+on his new love, when Juliet appeared above at a window, through
+which her exceeding beauty seemed to break like the light of the
+sun in the east; and the moon, which shone in the orchard with a
+faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with grief at
+the superior luster of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek
+upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that
+hand, that he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking
+herself alone, fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
+
+“Ah me!”
+
+Romeo, enraptured to bear her speak, said, softly and unheard by
+her, “Oh, speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being
+over my head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals
+fall back to gaze upon.”
+
+She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new passion
+which that night’s adventure had given birth to, called upon her
+lover by name (whom she supposed absent). “O Romeo, Romeo!” said
+she, “wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy
+name, for my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and
+I no longer will be a Capulet.”
+
+Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he
+was desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her
+passionate discourse with herself (as she thought), still chiding
+Romeo for being Romeo and a Montague, and wishing him some other
+name, or that he would put away that hated name, and for that
+name which was no part of himself he should take all herself. At
+this loving word Romeo could no longer refrain, but, taking up
+the dialogue as if her words had been addressed to him
+personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call him Love,
+or by whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer
+Romeo, if that name was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to
+hear a man’s voice in the garden, did not at first know who it
+was that by favor of the night and darkness had thus stumbled
+upon the discovery of her secret; but when he spoke again, though
+her ears had not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s
+uttering, yet so nice is a lover’s hearing that she immediately
+knew him to be young Romeo, and she expostulated with him on the
+danger to which he had exposed himself by climbing the orchard
+walls, for if any of her kinsmen should find him there it would
+be death to him, being a Montague.
+
+“Alack!” said Romeo, “there is more peril in your eye than in
+twenty of their swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I
+am proof against their enmity. Better my life should be ended by
+their hate than that hated life should be prolonged to live
+without your love.”
+
+“How came you into this place,” said Juliet, “and by whose
+direction?”
+
+“Love directed me,” answered Romeo. “I am no pilot, yet ‘wert
+thou as far apart from me as that vast shore which is washed with
+the farthest sea, I should venture for such merchandise.”
+
+A crimson blush came over Juliet’s face, yet unseen by Romeo by
+reason of the night, when she reflected upon the discovery which
+she had made, yet not meaning to make it, of her love to Romeo.
+She would fain have recalled her words, but that was impossible;
+fain would she have stood upon form, and have kept her lover at a
+distance, as the custom of discreet ladies is, to frown and be
+perverse and give their suitors harsh denials at first; to stand
+off, and affect a coyness or indifference where they most love,
+that their lovers may not think them too lightly or too easily
+won; for the difficulty of attainment increases the value of the
+object. But there was no room in her case for denials, or
+puttings off, or any of the customary arts of delay and
+protracted courtship. Romeo had heard from her own tongue, when
+she did not dream that he was near her, a confession of her love.
+So with an honest frankness which the novelty of her situation
+excused she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard, and,
+addressing him by the name of FAIR MONTAGUE (love can sweeten a
+sour name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to
+levity or an unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it
+(if it were a fault) upon the accident of the night which had so
+strangely discovered her thoughts. And she added, that though her
+behavior to him might not be sufficiently prudent, measured by
+the custom of her sex, yet that she would prove more true than
+many whose prudence was dissembling, and their modesty artificial
+cunning.
+
+Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness that nothing
+was farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonor
+to such an honored lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to
+swear; for although she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that
+night’s contract--it was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But
+he being urgent with her to exchange a vow of love with him that
+night, she said that she already had given him hers before he
+requested it, meaning, when he overheard her confession; but she
+would retract what she then bestowed, for the pleasure of giving
+it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her love
+as deep. From this loving conference she was called away by her
+nurse, who slept with her and thought it time for her to be in
+bed, for it was near to daybreak; but, hastily returning, she
+said three or four words more to Romeo the purport of which was,
+that if his love was indeed honorable, and his purpose marriage,
+she would send a messenger to him to-morrow to appoint a time for
+their marriage, when she would lay all her fortunes at his feet
+and follow him as her lord through the world. While they were
+settling this point Juliet was repeatedly called for by her
+nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned again, for
+she seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her as a young girl of
+her bird, which she will let hop a little from her hand and pluck
+it back with a silken thread; and Romeo was as loath to part as
+she, for the sweetest music to lovers is the sound of each
+other’s tongues at night. But at last they parted, wishing
+mutually sweet sleep and rest for that night.
+
+The day was breaking when they parted, and Romeo, who was too
+full of thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to
+allow him to sleep, instead of going home, bent his course to a
+monastery hard by, to find Friar Lawrence. The good friar was
+already up at his devotions, but, seeing young Romeo abroad so
+early, he conjectured rightly that he had not been abed that
+night, but that some distemper of youthful affection had kept him
+waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo’s wakefulness
+to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he thought
+that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo
+revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance
+of the friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his
+eyes and hands in a sort of wonder at the sudden change in
+Romeo’s affections, for he had been privy to all Romeo’s love for
+Rosaline and his many complaints of her disdain; and he said that
+young men’s love lay not truly in their hearts, but in their
+eyes. But Romeo replying that he himself had often chidden him
+for doting on Rosaline, who could not love him again, whereas
+Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the friar assented in
+some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial
+alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might happily be the
+means of making up the long breach between the Capulets and the
+Montagues, which no one more lamented than this good friar who
+was a friend to both the families and had often interposed his
+mediation to make up the quarrel without effect; partly moved by
+policy, and partly by his fondness for young Romeo, to whom he
+could deny nothing, the old man consented to join their hands in
+marriage.
+
+Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent
+from a messenger which she had despatched according to promise,
+did not fail to be early at the cell of Friar Lawrence, where
+their hands were joined in holy marriage, the good friar praying
+the heavens to smile upon that act, and in the union of this
+young Montague and young Capulet, to bury the old strife and long
+dissensions of their families.
+
+The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed,
+impatient for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised
+to come and meet her in the orchard, where they had met the night
+before; and the time between seemed as tedious to her as the
+night before some great festival seems to an impatient child that
+has got new finery which it may not put on till the morning.
+
+That same day, about noon, Romeo’s friends, Benvolio and
+Mercutio, walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a
+party of the Capulets with the impetuous Tybalt at their head.
+This was the same angry Tybalt who would have fought with Romeo
+at old Lord Capulet’s feast. He, seeing Mercutio, accused him
+bluntly of associating with Romeo, a Montague. Mercutio, who had
+as much fire and youthful blood in him as Tybalt, replied to this
+accusation with some sharpness; and in spite of all Benvolio
+could say to moderate their wrath a quarrel was beginning when,
+Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from
+Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of
+villain. Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all
+men, because he was the kinsman of Juliet and much beloved by
+her; besides, this young Montague had never thoroughly entered
+into the family quarrel, being by nature wise and gentle, and the
+name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady’s name, was now rather
+a charm to allay resentment than a watchword to excite fury. So
+he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by the
+name of GOOD CAPULET, as if he, though a Montague, had some
+secret pleasure in uttering that name; but Tybalt, who hated all
+Montagues as he hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his
+weapon; and Mercutio, who knew not of Romeo’s secret motive for
+desiring peace with Tybalt, but looked upon his present
+forbearance as a sort of calm dishonorable submission, with many
+disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution of his first
+quarrel with him; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till Mercutio
+fell, receiving his death’s wound while Romeo and Benvolio were
+vainly endeavoring to part the combatants.  Mercutio being dead,
+Romeo kept his temper no longer, but  returned the scornful
+appellation of villain which Tybalt had given him, and they
+fought till Tybalt was slain by Romeo. This deadly broil falling
+out in the midst of Verona at noonday, the news of it quickly
+brought a crowd of citizens to the spot and among them the Lords
+Capulet and Montague, with their wives; and soon after arrived
+the prince himself, who, being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt
+had slain, and having had the peace of his government often
+disturbed by these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came
+determined to put the law in strictest force against those who
+should be found to be offenders. Benvolio, who had been
+eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the prince to relate
+the origin of it; which he did, keeping as near the truth as he
+could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part
+which his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief
+for the loss of her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her
+revenge, exhorted the prince to do strict justice upon his
+murderer, and to,pay no attention to Benvolio’s representation,
+who, being Romeo’s friend and a Montague, spoke partially. Thus
+she pleaded against her new son-in-law, but she knew not yet that
+he was her son-in-law and Juliet’s husband. On the other hand was
+to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her child’s life, and
+arguing with some justice that Romeo had done nothing worthy of
+punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was already
+forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The prince,
+unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a
+careful examination of the facts pronounced his sentence, and by
+that sentence Romeo was banished from Verona.
+
+Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride
+and now by this decree seemed everlastingly divorced! When the
+tidings reached her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo,
+who had slain her dear cousin. She called him a beautiful tyrant,
+a fiend angelical, a ravenous dove, a lamb with a wolf’s nature,
+a serpent-heart hid with a flowering face, and other, like
+contradictory names, which denoted the struggles in her mind
+between her love and her resentment. But in the end love got the
+mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo had
+slain her cousin turned to drops of joy that her husband lived
+whom Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they
+were altogether of grief for Romeo’s banishment. That word was
+more terrible to her than the death of many Tybalts.
+
+Romeo, after the fray, had taken refuge in Friar Lawrence’s cell,
+where he was first made acquainted with the prince’s sentence,
+which seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it
+appeared there was no world out of Verona’s walls, no living out
+of the sight of Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and
+all beyond was purgatory, torture, hell. The good friar would
+have applied the consolation of philosophy to his griefs; but
+this frantic young man would hear of none, but like a madman he
+tore his hair and threw himself all along upon the ground, as he
+said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly state
+he was roused by a message from his dear lady which a little
+revived him; and then the friar took the advantage to expostulate
+with him on the unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain
+Tybalt, but would he also slay himself, slay his dear lady, who
+lived but in his life? The noble form of man, he said, was but a
+shape of wax when it wanted the courage which should keep it
+firm. The law had been lenient to him that instead of death,
+which he had incurred, had pronounced by the prince’s mouth only
+banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain
+him-there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive and
+(beyond all hope) had become his dear wife; therein he was most
+happy. All these blessings, as the friar made them out to be, did
+Romeo put from him like a sullen misbehaved wench. And the friar
+bade him beware, for such as despaired (he said) died miserable.
+Then when Romeo was a little calmed he counseled him that he
+should go that night and secretly take his leave of Juliet, and
+thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should
+sojourn till the friar found fit occasion to publish his
+marriage, which might be a joyful means of reconciling their
+families; and then he did not doubt but the prince would be moved
+to pardon him, and he would return with twenty times more joy
+than he went forth with grief. Romeo was convinced by these wise
+counsels of the friar, and took his leave to go and seek his
+lady, proposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak
+pursue his journey alone to Mantua; to which place the good friar
+promised to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him
+with the state of affairs at home.
+
+That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret
+admission to her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard
+her confession of love the night before. That had been a night of
+unmixed joy and rapture; but the pleasures of this night and the
+delight which these lovers took in each other’s society were
+sadly allayed with the prospect of parting and the fatal
+adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to come
+too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark she
+would have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which
+sings by night; but it was too truly the lark which sang, and a
+discordant and unpleasing note it seemed to her; and the streaks
+of day in the east too certainly pointed out that it was time for
+these lovers to part. Romeo took his leave of his dear wife with
+a heavy heart, promising to write to her from Mantua every hour
+in the day; and when he had descended from her chamber window, as
+he stood below her on the ground, in that sad foreboding state of
+mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one dead in the
+bottom of a tomb. Romeo’s mind misgave him in like manner. But
+now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him to
+be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.
+
+This was but the beginning of the tragedy of this pair of star-
+crossed lovers. Romeo had not been gone many days before the old
+Lord Capulet proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had
+chosen for her, not dreaming that she was married already, was
+Count Paris, a gallant, young, and noble gentleman, no unworthy
+suitor to the young Juliet if she had never seen Romeo.
+
+The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father’s
+offer. She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent
+death of Tybalt, which had left her spirits too weak to meet a
+husband with any face of joy, and how indecorous it would show
+for the family of the Capulets to be celebrating a nuptial feast
+when his funeral solemnities were hardly over. She pleaded every
+reason against the match but the true one, namely, that she was
+married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses,
+and in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the
+following Thursday she should be married to Paris. And having
+found her a husband, rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest
+maid in Verona might joyfully accept, he could not bear that out
+of an affected coyness, as he construed her denial, she should
+oppose obstacles to her own good fortune.
+
+In this extremity Juliet applied to the friendly friar, always a
+counselor in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to
+undertake a desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go
+into the grave alive rather than marry Paris, her own dear
+husband living, he directed her to go home, and appear merry, and
+give her consent to marry Paris, according to her father’s
+desire, and on the next night, which was the night before the
+marriage, to drink off the contents of a vial which he then gave
+her, the effect of which would be that for two-and-forty hours
+after drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless, and when
+the bridegroom came to fetch her in the morning he would find her
+to appearance dead; that then she would be borne, as the manner
+in that country was, uncovered on a bier, to be buried in the
+family vault; that if she could put off womanish fear, and
+consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours after
+swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would
+be sure to awake, as from a dream; and before she should awake he
+would let her husband know their drift, and he should come in the
+night and bear her thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of
+marrying Paris, gave young Juliet strength to undertake this
+horrible adventure; and she took the vial of the friar, promising
+to observe his directions.
+
+Going from the monastery, she met the young Count Paris, and,
+modestly dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was
+joyful news to the Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put
+youth into the old man; and Juliet, who had displeased him
+exceedingly by her refusal of the count, was his darling again,
+now she promised to be obedient. All things in the house were in
+a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was spared to
+prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before
+witnessed.
+
+On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many
+misgivings lest the friar, to avoid the blame which might be
+imputed to him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison;
+but then he was always known for a holy man. Then lest she should
+awake before the time that Romeo was to come for her; whether the
+terror of the place, a vault full of dead Capulets’ bones, and
+where Tybalt, all bloody, lay festering in his shroud, would not
+be enough to drive her distracted. Again she thought of all the
+stories she had heard of spirits haunting the places where their
+bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo and her
+aversion for Paris returned, and she desperately swallowed the
+draught and became insensible.
+
+When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken
+his bride, instead of a living Juliet her chamber presented the
+dreary spectacle of a lifeless corse. What death to his hopes!
+What confusion then reigned through the whole house! Poor Paris
+lamenting his bride, whom most detestable death had beguiled him
+of, had divorced from him even before their hands were joined.
+But still more piteous it was to hear the mournings of the old
+Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one poor loving
+child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death had snatched her from
+their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of
+seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and
+advantageous match. Now all things that were ordained for the
+festival were turned from their properties to do the office of a
+black funeral. The wedding cheer served for a sad burial feast,
+the bridal hymns were changed for sullen dirges, the sprightly
+instruments to melancholy.bells, and the flowers that should have
+been strewed in the bride’s path now served but to strew her
+corse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was needed
+to bury her, and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment
+the cheerful hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers
+of the dead.
+
+Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the
+dismal story of his Juliet’s death to Romeo, at Mantua, before
+the messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Lawrence to
+apprise him that these were mock funerals only, and but the
+shadow and representation of death, and that his dear lady lay in
+the tomb but for a short while, expecting when Romeo would come
+to release her from that dreary mansion. Just before, Romeo had
+been unusually joyful and light-hearted. He had dreamed in the
+night that he was dead (a strange dream, that gave a dead man
+leave to think) and that his lady came and found him dead, and
+breathed such life with kisses in his lips that he revived and
+was an emperor! And now that a messenger came from Verona, he
+thought surely it was to confirm some good news which his dreams
+had presaged. But when the contrary to this flattering vision
+appeared, and that it was his lady who was dead in truth, whom he
+could not revive by any kisses, he ordered horses to be got
+ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona and to see
+his lady in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the
+thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary,
+whose shop in Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly
+appearance of the man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show
+in his show of empty boxes ranged on dirty shelves, and other
+tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had said at the time (perhaps
+having some misgivings that his own disastrous life might haply
+meet with a conclusion so desperate):
+
+“If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is
+death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him.”
+
+These words of his now came into his mind and he sought out the
+apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him
+gold, which his poverty could not resist, sold him a poison
+which, if he swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of
+twenty men, would quickly despatch him.
+
+With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his
+dear lady in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight,
+to swallow the poison and be buried by her side. He reached
+Verona at midnight, and found the churchyard in the midst of
+which was situated the ancient tomb of the Capulets. He had
+provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching-iron, and was
+proceeding to break open the monument when he was interrupted by
+a voice, which by the name of VILE MONTAGUE bade him desist from
+his unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come
+to the tomb of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night to strew
+flowers and to weep over the grave of her that should have been
+his bride. He knew not what an interest Romeo had in the dead,
+but, knowing him to be a Montague and (as he supposed) a sworn
+foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come by night to
+do some villainous shame to the dead bodies; therefore in an
+angry tone he bade him desist; and as a criminal, condemned by
+the laws of Verona to die if he were found within the walls of
+the city, he would have apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to
+leave him, and warned him by the fate of Tybalt, who lay buried
+there, not to provoke his anger or draw down another sin upon his
+head by forcing him to kill him. But the count in scorn refused
+his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which, Romeo
+resisting, they fought, and Paris fell. When Romeo, by the help
+of a light, came to see who it was that he had slain, that it was
+Paris, who (he learned in his way from Mantua) should have
+married Juliet, he took the dead youth by the hand, as one whom
+misfortune had made a companion, and said that he would bury him
+in a triumphal grave, meaning in Juliet’s grave, which he now
+opened. And there lay his lady, as one whom death had no power
+upon to change a feature or complexion, in her matchless beauty;
+or as if death were amorous, and the lean, abhorred monster kept
+her there for his delight; for she lay yet fresh and blooming, as
+she had fallen to sleep when she swallowed that benumbing potion;
+and near her lay Tybalt in his bloody shroud, whom Romeo seeing,
+begged pardon of his lifeless corse, and for Juliet’s sake called
+him COUSIN, and said that he was about to do him a favor by
+putting his enemy to death. Here Romeo took his last leave of his
+lady’s lips, kissing them; and here he shook the burden of his
+cross stars from his weary body, swallowing that poison which the
+apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, not
+like that dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the
+effect of which was now nearly expiring, and she about to awake
+to complain that Romeo had not kept his time, or that he had come
+too soon.
+
+For now the hour was arrived at which the friar had promised that
+she should awake; and he, having learned that his letters which
+he had sent to Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the
+messenger, had never reached Romeo, came himself, provided with a
+pickax and lantern, to deliver the lady from her confinement; but
+he was surprised to find a light already burning in the Capulets’
+monument, and to see swords and blood near it, and Romeo and
+Paris lying breathless by the monument,
+
+Before he could entertain a conjecture, to imagine how these
+fatal accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance,
+and, seeing the friar near her, she remembered the place where
+she was, and the occasion of her being there, and asked for
+Romeo, but the friar, hearing a noise, bade her come out of that
+place of death and of unnatural sleep, for a greater power than
+they could contradict had thwarted their intents; and, being
+frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled. But when
+Juliet saw the cup closed in her true love’s hands, she guessed
+that poison had been the cause of his end, and she would have
+swallowed the dregs if any had been left, and she kissed his
+still warm lips to try if any poison yet did hang upon them; then
+hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she quickly unsheathed a
+dagger which she wore, and, stabbing herself, died by her true
+Romeo’s side.
+
+The watch by this time had come up to the place. A page belonging
+to Count Paris, who had witnessed the fight between his master
+and Romeo, had given the alarm, which had spread among the
+citizens, who went up and down the streets of Verona confusedly
+exclaiming, “A Paris! a Romeo! a Juliet!” as the rumor had
+imperfectly reached them, till the uproar brought Lord Montague
+and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the prince, to inquire
+into the causes of the disturbance. The friar had been
+apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard,
+trembling, sighing, and weeping in a suspicious manner. A great
+multitude being assembled at the Capulets’ monument, the friar
+was demanded by the prince to deliver what he knew of these
+strange and disastrous accidents.
+
+And there, in the presence of the old Lords Montague and Capulet,
+he faithfully related the story of their children’s fatal love,
+the part he took in promoting their marriage, in the hope in that
+union to end the long quarrels between their families; how Romeo,
+there dead, was husband to Juliet, and Juliet, there dead, was
+Romeo’s faithful wife; how, before he could find a fit
+opportunity to divulge their marriage, another match was
+projected for Juliet, who, to avoid the crime of a second
+marriage, swallowed the sleeping-draught (as he advised), and all
+thought her dead; how meantime he wrote to Romeo to come and take
+her thence when the force of the potion should cease, and by what
+unfortunate miscarriage of the messenger the letters never
+reached Romeo. Further than this the friar could not follow the
+story, nor knew more than that, coming himself to deliver Juliet
+from that place of death, he found the Count Paris and Romeo
+slain. The remainder of the transactions was supplied by the
+narration of the page who had seen Paris and Romeo fight, and by
+the servant who came with Romeo from Verona, to whom this
+faithful lover had given letters to be delivered to his father in
+the event of his death, which made good the friar’s words,
+confessing his marriage with Juliet, imploring the forgiveness of
+his parents, acknowledging the buying of the poison of the poor
+apothecary and his intent in coming to the monument to die and
+lie with Juliet. All these circumstances agreed together to clear
+the friar from any hand he could be supposed to have in these
+complicated slaughters, further than as the unintended
+consequences of his own well-meant, yet too artificial and subtle
+contrivances.
+
+And the prince, turning to these old lords, Montague and Capulet,
+rebuked them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed
+them what a scourge Heaven had laid upon such offenses, that it
+had found means even through the love of their children to punish
+their unnatural hate. And these old rivals, no longer enemies,
+agreed to bury their long strife in their children’s graves; and
+Lord Capulet requested Lord Montague to give him his hand,
+calling him by the name of brother, as if in acknowledgment of
+the union of their families by the marriage of the young Capulet
+and Montague; and saying that Lord Montague’s hand (in token of
+reconcilement) was all he demanded for his daughter’s jointure.
+But Lord Montague said he would give him more, for he would raise
+her a statue of pure gold that, while Verona kept its name, no
+figure should be so esteemed for its richness and workmanship as
+that of the true and faithful Juliet. And Lord Capulet in return
+said that he would raise another statue to Romeo. So did these
+poor old lords, when it was too late, strive to outgo each other
+in mutual courtesies; while so deadly had been their rage and
+enmity in past times that nothing but the fearful overthrow of
+their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and
+dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the
+noble families.
+
+
+
+
+HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+
+
+Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, becoming a widow by the sudden death
+of King Hamlet, in less than two months after his death married
+his brother Claudius, which was noted by all people at the tim
+for a strange act of indiscretion, or unfeelingness, or worse;
+for this Claudius did no way resemble her late husband in the
+qualities of his person or his mind, but was as contemptible in
+outward appearance as he was base and unworthy in disposition;
+and suspicions did not fail to arise in the minds of some that he
+had privately made away with his brother, the late king, with the
+view of marrying his widow and ascending the throne of Denmark,
+to the exclusion of young Hamlet, the son of the buried king and
+lawful successor to the throne.
+
+But upon no one did this unadvised action of the queen make such
+impression as upon this young prince, who loved and venerated the
+memory of his dead father almost to idolatry, and, being of a
+nice sense of honor and a most exquisite practiser of propriety
+himself, did sorely take to heart this unworthy conduct of his
+mother Gertrude; in so much that, between grief for his father’s
+death and shame for his mother’s marriage, this young prince was
+overclouded with a deep melancholy, and lost all his mirth and
+all his good looks; all his customary pleasure in books forsook
+him, his princely exercises and sports, proper to his youth, were
+no longer acceptable; he grew weary of the world, which seemed to
+him an unweeded garden, where all the wholesome flowers were
+choked up and nothing but weeds could thrive. Not that the
+prospect of exclusion from the throne, his lawful inheritance,
+weighed so much upon his spirits, though that to a young and
+high-minded prince was a bitter wound and a sore indignity; but
+what so galled him and took away all his cheerful spirits was
+that his mother had shown herself so forgetful to his father’s
+memory, and such a father! who had been to her so loving and so
+gentle a husband! and then she always appeared as loving and
+obedient a wife to him, and would hang upon him as if her
+affection grew to him. And now within two months, or, as it
+seemed to young Hamlet, less than two months, she had married
+again, married his uncle, her dear husband’s brother, in itself a
+highly improper and unlawful marriage, from the nearness of
+relationship, but made much more so by the indecent haste with
+which it was concluded and the unkingly character of the man whom
+she had chosen to be the partner of her throne and bed. This it
+was which more than the loss of ten kingdoms dashed the spirits
+and brought a cloud over the mind of this honorable young prince.
+
+In vain was all that his mother Gertrude or the king could do to
+contrive to divert him; he still appeared in court in a suit of
+deep black, as mourning for the king his father’s death, which
+mode of dress he had never laid aside, not even in compliment to
+his mother upon the day she was married, nor could he be brought
+to join in any of the festivities or rejoicings of that (as
+appeared to him) disgraceful day.
+
+What mostly troubled him was an uncertainty about the manner of
+his father’s death. It was given out by Claudius that a serpent
+had stung him; but young Hamlet had shrewd suspicions that
+Claudius himself was the serpent; in plain English, that he had
+murdered him for his crown, and that the serpent who stung his
+father did now sit on the throne.
+
+How far he was right in this conjecture and what he ought to
+think of his mother, how far she was privy to this murder and
+whether by her consent or knowledge, or without, it came to pass,
+were the doubts which continually harassed and distracted him.
+
+A rumor had reached the ear of young Hamlet that an apparition,
+exactly resembling the dead king his father, had been seen by the
+soldiers upon watch, on the platform before the palace at
+midnight, for two or three nights successively. The figure came
+constantly clad in the same suit of armor, from head to foot,
+which the dead king was known to have worn. And they who saw it
+(Hamlet’s bosom friend Horatio was one) agreed in their testimony
+as to the time and manner of its appearance that it came just as
+the clock struck twelve; that it looked pale, with a face more of
+sorrow than of anger; that its beard was grisly, and the color a
+SABLE SILVERED, as they had seen it in his lifetime; that it
+made no answer when they spoke to it; yet once they thought it
+lifted up its head and addressed itself to motion, as if it were
+about to speak; but in that moment the morning cock crew and it
+shrank in haste away, and vanished out of their sight.
+
+The young prince, strangely amazed at their relation, which was
+too consistent and agreeing with itself to disbelieve, concluded
+that it was his father’s ghost which they had seen, and
+determined to take his watch with the soldiers that night, that
+he might have a chance of seeing it; for he reasoned with himself
+that such an appearance did not come for nothing, but that the
+ghost had something to impart, and though it had been silent
+hitherto, yet it would speak to him. And he waited with
+impatience for the coming of night.
+
+When night came he took his stand with Horatio, and Marcellus,
+one of the guard, upon the platform, where this apparition was
+accustomed to walk; and it being a cold night, and the air
+unusually raw and nipping, Hamlet and Horatio and their companion
+fell into some talk about the coldness of the night, which was
+suddenly broken off by Horatio announcing that the ghost was
+coming.
+
+At the sight of his father’s spirit Hamlet was struck with a
+sudden surprise and fear.’ He at first called upon the angels and
+heavenly ministers to defend them, for he knew not whether it
+were a good spirit or bad, whether it came for good or evil; but
+he gradually assumed more courage; and his father (as it seemed
+to him) looked upon him so piteously, and as it were desiring to
+have conversation with him, and did in all respects appear so
+like himself as he was when he lived, that Hamlet could not help
+addressing him. He called him by his name, “Hamlet, King,
+Father!” and conjured him that he would tell the reason why he
+had left his grave, where they had seen him quietly bestowed, to
+come again and visit the earth and the moonlight; and besought
+him that he would let them know if there was anything which they
+could do to give peace to his spirit. And the ghost beckoned to
+Hamlet, that he should go with him to some more removed place
+where they might be alone; and Horatio and Marcellus would have
+dissuaded the young prince from following it, for they feared
+lest it should be some evil spirit who would tempt him to the
+neighboring sea or to the top of some dreadful cliff, and there
+put on some horrible shape which might deprive the prince of his
+reason. But their counsels and entreaties could not alter
+Hamlet’s determination, who cared too little about life to fear
+the losing of it; and as to his soul, he said, what could the
+spirit do to that, being a thing immortal as itself? And he felt
+as hardy as a lion, and, bursting from them, who did all they
+could to hold him, he followed whithersoever the spirit led him.
+
+And when they were alone together, the spirit broke silence and
+told him that he was the ghost of Hamlet, his father, who had
+been cruelly murdered, and he told the manner of it; that it was
+done by his own brother Claudius, Hamlet’s uncle, as Hamlet had
+already but too much suspected, for the hope of succeeding to his
+bed and crown. That as he was sleeping in his garden, his custom
+always in the afternoon, his treasonous brother stole upon him in
+his sleep and poured the juice of poisonous henbane into his
+ears, which has such an antipathy to the life of man that, swift
+as quicksilver, it courses through all the veins of the body,
+baking up the blood and spreading a crust-like leprosy all over
+the skin. Thus sleeping, by a brother’s hand he was cut off at
+once from his crown, his queen, and his life; and he adjured
+Hamlet, if he did ever his dear father love, that he would
+revenge his foul murder. And the ghost lamented to his son that
+his mother should so fall off from virtue as to prove false to
+the wedded love of her first husband and to marry his murderer;
+but he cautioned Hamlet, howsoever he proceeded in his revenge
+against his wicked uncle, by no means to act any violence against
+the person of his mother, but to leave her to Heaven, and to the
+stings and thorns of conscience. And Hamlet promised to observe
+the ghost’s direction in all things, and the ghost vanished.
+
+And when Hamlet was left alone he took up a solemn resolution
+that all he had in his memory, all that he had ever learned by
+books or observation, should be instantly forgotten by him, and
+nothing live in his brain but the memory of what the ghost had
+told him and enjoined him to do. And Hamlet related the
+particulars of the conversation which had passed to none but his
+dear friend Horatio; and he enjoined both to him and Marcellus
+the strictest secrecy as to what they had seen that night.
+
+The terror which the sight of the ghost had left upon the senses
+of Hamlet, he being weak and dispirited before, almost unhinged
+his mind and drove him beside his reason. And he, fearing that it
+would continue to have this effect, which might subject him to
+observation and set his uncle upon his guard, if he suspected
+that he was meditating anything against him, or that Hamlet
+really knew more of his father’s death than he professed, took up
+a strange resolution, from that time to counterfeit as if he were
+really and truly mad; thinking that he would be less an object of
+suspicion when his uncle should believe him incapable of any
+serious project, and that his real perturbation of mind would be
+best covered and pass concealed under a disguise of pretended
+lunacy.
+
+From this time Hamlet affected a certain wildness and strangeness
+in his apparel, his speech, and behavior, and did so excellently
+counterfeit the madman that the king and queen were both
+deceived, and not thinking his grief for his father’s death a
+sufficient cause to produce such a distemper, for they knew not
+of the appearance of the ghost, they concluded that his malady
+was love and they thought they had found out the object.
+
+Before Hamlet fell into the melancholy way which has been
+related he had dearly loved a fair maid called Ophelia, the
+daughter of Polonius, the king’s chief counselor in affairs of
+state. He had sent her letters and rings, and made many tenders
+of his affection to her, and importuned her with love in
+honorable fashion; and she had given belief to his vows and
+importunities. But the melancholy which he fell into latterly
+had made him neglect her, and from the time he conceived the
+project of counterfeiting madness he affected to treat her with
+unkindness and a sort of rudeness; but she, good lady, rather
+than reproach him with being false to her, persuaded herself that
+it was nothing but the disease in his mind, and no settled
+unkindness, which had made him less observant of her than
+formerly; and she compared the faculties of his once noble mind
+and excellent understanding, impaired as they were with the deep
+melancholy that oppressed him, to sweet bells which in themselves
+are capable of most exquisite music, but when jangled out of
+tune, or rudely handled, produce only a harsh and unpleasing
+sound.
+
+Though the rough business which Hamlet had in hand, the revenging
+of his father’s death upon his murderer, did not suit with the
+playful state of courtship, or admit of the society of so idle a
+passion as love now seemed to him, yet it could not hinder but
+that soft thoughts of his Ophelia would come between, and in one
+of these moments, when he thought that his treatment of this
+gentle lady had been unreasonably harsh, he wrote her a letter
+full of wild starts of passion, and in extravagant terms, such as
+agreed with his supposed madness, but mixed with some gentle
+touches of affection, which could not but show to this honored
+lady that a deep love for her yet lay at the bottom of his heart.
+He bade her to doubt the stars were fire, and to doubt that the
+sun did move, to doubt truth to be a liar, but never to doubt
+that he loved; with more of such extravagant phrases. This letter
+Ophelia dutifully showed to her father, and the old man thought
+himself bound to communicate it to the king and queen, who from
+that time supposed that the true cause of Hamlet’s madness was
+love. And the queen wished that the good beauties of Ophelia
+might be the happy cause of his wildness, for so she hoped that
+her virtues might happily restore him to his accustomed way
+again, to both their honors.
+
+But Hamlet’s malady lay deeper than she supposed, or than could
+be so cured. His father’s ghost, which he had seen, still haunted
+his imagination, and the sacred injunction to revenge his murder
+gave him no rest till it was accomplished. Every hour of delay
+seemed to him a sin and a violation of his father’s commands. Yet
+how to compass the death of the king, surrounded as he constantly
+was with his guards, was no easy matter. Or if it had been, the
+presence of the queen, Hamlet’s mother, who was generally with
+the king, was a restraint upon his purpose, which he could not
+break through. Besides, the very circumstance that the usurper
+was his mother’s husband, filled him with some remorse and still
+blunted the edge of his purpose. The mere act of putting a
+fellow-creature to death was in itself odious and terrible to a
+disposition naturally so gentle as Hamlet’s was. His very
+melancholy, and the dejection of spirits he had so long been ill,
+produced an irresoluteness and wavering of purpose which kept him
+from proceeding to extremities. Moreover, he could not help
+having some scruples upon his mind, whether the spirit which he
+had seen was indeed his father, or whether it might not be the
+devil, who he had heard has power to take any form he pleases,
+and who might have assumed his father’s shape only to take
+advantage of his weakness and his melancholy, to drive him to the
+doing of so desperate an act as murder. And he determined that he
+would have more certain grounds to go upon than a vision, or
+apparition, which might be a delusion.
+
+While he was in this irresolute mind there came to the court
+certain players, in whom Hamlet formerly used to take delight,
+and particularly to hear one of them speak a tragical speech,
+describing the death of old Priam, King of Troy, with the grief
+of Hecuba his queen. Hamlet welcomed his old friends, the
+players, and remembering how that speech had formerly given him
+pleasure, requested the player to repeat it; which he did in so
+lively a manner, setting forth the cruel murder of the feeble old
+king, with the destruction of his people and city by fire, and
+the mad grief of the old queen, running barefoot up and down the
+palace, with a poor clout upon that head where a crown had been,
+and with nothing but a blanket upon her loins, snatched up in
+haste, where she had worn a royal robe; that not only it drew
+tears from all that stood by, who thought they saw the real
+scene, so lively was it represented, but even the player himself
+delivered it with a broken voice and real tears. This put Hamlet
+upon thinking, if that player could so work himself up to passion
+by a mere fictitious speech, to weep for one that he had never
+seen, for Hecuba, that had been dead so many hundred years, how
+dull was he, who having a real motive and cue for passion, a real
+king and a dear father murdered, was yet so little moved that his
+revenge all this while had seemed to have slept in dull and muddy
+forgetfulness! and while he meditated on actors and acting, and
+the powerful effects which a good play, represented to the life,
+has upon the spectator, he remembered the instance of some
+murderer, who, seeing a murder on the stage, was by the mere
+force of the scene and resemblance of circumstances so affected
+that on the spot he confessed the crime which he had committed.
+And he determined that these players should play something like
+the murder of his father before his uncle, and he would watch
+narrowly what effect it might have upon him, and from his looks
+he would be able to gather with more certainty if he were the
+murderer or not. To this effect he ordered a play to be prepared,
+to the representation of which he invited the king and queen.
+
+The story of the play was of a murder done in Vienna upon a duke.
+The duke’s name was Gonzago, his wife’s Baptista. The play showed
+how one Lucianus, a near relation to the duke, poisoned him in
+his garden for his estate, and how the murderer in a short time
+after got the love of Gonzago’s wife.
+
+At the representation of this play, the king, who did not know
+the trap which was laid for him, was present, with his queen and
+the whole court; Hamlet sitting attentively near him to observe
+his looks. The play began with a conversation between Gonzago and
+his wife, in which the lady made many protestations of love, and
+of never marrying a second husband if she should outlive Gonzago,
+wishing she might be accursed if she ever took a second husband,
+and adding that no woman did so but those wicked women who kill
+their first husbands. Hamlet observed the king his uncle change
+color at this expression, and that it was as bad as wormwood both
+to him and to the queen. But when Lucianus, according to the
+story, came to poison Gonzago sleeping in the garden, the strong
+resemblance which it bore to his own wicked act upon the late
+king, his brother, whom he had poisoned in his garden, so struck
+upon the conscience of this usurper that he was unable to sit out
+the rest of the play, but on a sudden calling for lights to his
+chamber, and affecting or partly feeling a sudden sickness, he
+abruptly left the theater. The king being departed, the play was
+given over. Now Hamlet had seen enough to be satisfied that the
+words of the ghost were true and no illusion; and in a fit of
+gaiety, like that which comes over a man who suddenly has some
+great doubt or scruple resolved, he swore to Horatio that he
+would take the ghost’s word for a thousand pounds. But before he
+could make up his resolution as to what measures of revenge he
+should take, now he was certainly informed that his uncle was his
+father’s murderer, he was sent for by the queen his mother, to a
+private conference in her closet.
+
+It was by desire of the king that the queen sent for Hamlet,
+that she might signify to her son how much his late behavior
+had displeased them both, and the king, wishing to know all that
+passed at that conference, and thinking that the too partial
+report of a mother might let slip some part of Hamlet’s words,
+which it might much import the king to know, Polonius, the old
+counselor of state, was ordered to plant himself behind the
+hangings in the queen’s closet, where he might, unseen, hear all
+that passed. This artifice was particularly adapted to the
+disposition of Polonius, who was a man grown old in crooked
+maxims and policies of state, and delighted to get at the
+knowledge of matters in an indirect and cunning way.
+
+Hamlet being come to his mother, she began to tax him in the
+roundest way with his actions and behavior, and she told him that
+he had given great offense to HIS FATHER, meaning the king, his
+uncle, whom, because he had married her, she called Hamlet’s
+father. Hamlet, sorely indignant that she should give so dear and
+honored a name as father seemed to him to a wretch who was
+indeed no better than the murderer of his true father, with some
+sharpness replied:
+
+“Mother, YOU have much offended MY FATHER.”
+
+The queen said that was but an idle answer.
+
+“As good as the question deserved,” said Hamlet.
+
+The queen asked him if he had forgotten who it was he was
+speaking to.
+
+“Alas!” replied Hamlet, “I wish I could forget. You are the
+queen, your husband’s brother’s wife; and you are my mother. I
+wish you were not what you are.”
+
+“Nay, then,” said the queen, “if you show me so little respect, I
+will set those to you that can speak,” and was going to send the
+king or Polonius to him.
+
+But Hamlet would not let her go, now he had her alone, till he
+had tried if his words could not bring her to some sense of her
+wicked life; and, taking her by the wrist, he held her fast, and
+made her sit down. She, affrighted at his earnest manner, and
+fearful lest in his lunacy he should do her a mischief, cried
+out; and a voice was heard from behind the hangings, “Help, help’
+the queen!” which Hamlet hearing, and verily thinking that it was
+the king himself there concealed, he drew his sword and stabbed
+at the place where the voice came from, as he would have stabbed
+a rat that ran there, till, the voice ceasing, he concluded the
+person to be dead. But when he dragged forth the body it was not
+the king, but Polonius, the old, officious counselor, that had
+planted himself as a spy behind the hangings.
+
+“Oh, me!” exclaimed the queen, “what a rash and bloody deed have
+you done!”
+
+“A bloody deed, mother,” replied Hamlet, “but not so bad as
+yours, who killed a king, and married his brother.”
+
+Hamlet had gone too far to leave off here. He was now in the
+humor to speak plainly to his mother, and he pursued it. And
+though the faults of parents are to be tenderly treated by their
+children, yet in the case of great crimes the son may have leave
+to speak even to his own mother with some harshness, so as that
+harshness is meant for her good and to turn her from her wicked
+ways, and not done for the purpose of upbraiding. And now this
+virtuous prince did in moving terms represent to the queen the
+heinousness of her offense in being so forgetful of the dead
+king, his father, as in so short a space of time to marry with
+his brother and reputed murderer. Such an act as, after the vows
+which she had sworn to her first husband, was enough to make all
+vows of women suspected and all virtue to be accounted hypocrisy,
+wedding contracts to be less than gamesters’ oaths, and religion
+to be a mockery and a mere form of words. He said she had done
+such a deed that the heavens blushed at it, and the earth was
+sick of her because of it. And he showed her two pictures, the
+one of the late king, her first husband, and the other of the
+present king, her second husband, and he bade her mark the
+difference; what a grace was on the brow of his father, how like
+a god he looked! the curls of Apollo, the forehead of Jupiter,
+the eye of Mars, and a posture like to Mercury newly alighted on
+some heaven-kissing hill! this man, he said, HAD BEEN her
+husband. And then be showed her whom she had got in his stead;
+how like a blight or a mildew he looked, for so he had blasted
+his wholesome brother. And the queen was sore ashamed that he
+should so turn her eyes inward upon her soul, which she now saw
+so black and deformed. And he asked her how she could continue to
+live with this man, and be a wife to him, who had murdered her
+first husband and got the crown by as false means as a thief--and
+just as he spoke the ghost of his father, such as he was in his
+lifetime and such as he had lately seen it, entered the room, and
+Hamlet, in great terror, asked what it would have; and the ghost
+said that it came to remind him of the revenge he had promised,
+which Hamlet seemed to have forgot; and the ghost bade him speak
+to his mother, for the grief and terror she was in would else
+kill her. It then vanished, and was seen by none but Hamlet,
+neither could he by pointing to where it stood, or by any
+description, make his mother perceive it, who was terribly
+frightened all this while to hear him conversing, as it seemed to
+her, with nothing; and she imputed it to the disorder of his
+mind. But Hamlet begged her not to flatter her wicked soul in
+such a manner as to think that it was his madness, and not her
+own offenses, which had brought his father’s spirit again on the
+earth. And he bade her feel his pulse, how temperately it beat,
+not like a madman’s. And he begged of her, with tears, to confess
+herself to Heaven for what was past, and for the future to
+avoid the company of the king and be no more as a wife to him;
+and when she should show herself a mother to him, by respecting
+his father’s memory, he would ask a blessing of her as a son. And
+she promising to observe his directions, the conference ended.
+
+And now Hamlet was at leisure to consider who it was that in his
+unfortunate rashness he had killed; and when he came to see that
+it was Polonius, the father of the Lady Ophelia whom he so dearly
+loved, he drew apart the dead body, and, his spirits being now a
+little quieter, he wept for what he had done.
+
+The unfortunate death of Polonius gave the king a pretense for
+sending Hamlet out of the kingdom. He would willingly have put
+him to death, fearing him as dangerous; but he dreaded the
+people, who loved Hamlet, and the queen, who, with all her
+faults, doted upon the prince, her son. So this subtle king,
+under pretense of providing for Hamlet’s safety, that he might
+not be called to account for Polonius’s death, caused him to be
+conveyed on board a ship bound for England, under the care of two
+courtiers, by whom he despatched letters to the English court,
+which in that time was in subjection and paid tribute to Denmark,
+requiring, for special reasons there pretended, that Hamlet
+should be put to death as soon as he landed on English ground.
+Hamlet, suspecting some treachery, in the nighttime secretly got
+at the letters, and, skilfully erasing his own name, he in the
+stead of it put in the names of those two courtiers, who had the
+charge of him, to be put to death; then sealing up the letters,
+he put them into their place again. Soon after the ship was
+attacked by pirates, and a sea-fight commenced, in the course of
+which Hamlet, desirous to show his valor, with sword in hand
+singly boarded the enemy’s vessel; while his own ship, in a
+cowardly manner, bore away; and leaving him to his fate, the two
+courtiers made the best of their way to England, charged with
+those letters the sense of which Hamlet had altered to their own
+deserved destruction.
+
+The pirates who had the prince in their power showed themselves
+gentle enemies, and, knowing whom they had got prisoner, in the
+hope that the prince might do them a good turn at court in
+recompense for any favor they might show him, they set Hamlet on
+shore at the nearest port in Denmark. From that place Hamlet
+wrote to the king, acquainting him with the strange chance which
+had brought him back to his own country and saying that on the
+next day he should present himself before his Majesty. When he
+got home a sad spectacle offered itself the first thing to his
+eyes.
+
+This was the funeral of the young and beautiful Ophelia, his once
+dear mistress. The wits of this young lady had begun to turn ever
+since her poor father’s death. That he should die a violent
+death, and by the hands of the prince whom she loved, so affected
+this tender young maid that in a little time she grew perfectly
+distracted, and would go about giving flowers away to the ladies
+of the court, and saying that they were for her father’s burial,
+singing songs about love and about death, and sometimes such as
+had no meaning at all, as if she had no memory of what happened
+to her. There was a willow which grew slanting over a brook, and
+reflected its leaves on the stream. To this brook she came one
+day when she was unwatched, with garlands she had been making,
+mixed up of daisies and nettles, flowers and weeds together, and
+clambering up to bang her garland upon the boughs of the willow,
+a bough broke and precipitated this fair young maid, garland, and
+all that she had gathered, into the water, where her clothes bore
+her up for a while, during which she chanted scraps of old tunes,
+like one insensible to her own distress, or as if she were a
+creature natural to that element; but long it was not before her
+garments, heavy with the wet, pulled her in from her melodious
+singing to a muddy and miserable death. It was the funeral of
+this fair maid which her brother Laertes was celebrating, the
+king and queen and whole court being present, when Hamlet
+arrived. He knew not what all this show imported, but stood on
+one side, not inclining to interrupt the ceremony. He saw the
+flowers strewed upon her grave, as the custom was in maiden
+burials, which the queen herself threw in; and as she threw them
+she said:
+
+“Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bride bed,
+sweet maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have
+been my Hamlet’s wife.”
+
+And he heard her brother wish that violets might spring from her
+grave; and he saw him leap into the grave all frantic with grief,
+and bid the attendants pile mountains of earth upon him, that he
+might be buried with her. And Hamlet’s love for this fair maid
+came back to him, and he could not bear that a brother should
+show so much transport of grief, for he thought that he loved
+Ophelia better than forty thousand brothers. Then discovering
+himself, he leaped into the grave where Laertes was, all as
+frantic or more frantic than he, and Laertes, knowing him to be
+Hamlet, who had been the cause of his father’s and his sister’s
+death, grappled him by the throat as an enemy, till the
+attendants parted them; and Hamlet, after the funeral, excused
+his hasty act in throwing himself into the grave as if to brave
+Laertes; but he said he could not bear that any one should seem
+to outgo him in grief for the death of the fair Ophelia. And for
+the time these two noble youths seemed reconciled.
+
+But out of the grief and anger of Laertes for the death of his
+father and Ophelia the king, Hamlet’s wicked uncle, contrived
+destruction for Hamlet. He set on Laertes, under cover of peace
+and reconciliation, to challenge Hamlet to a friendly trial of
+skill at fencing, which Hamlet accepting, a day was appointed to
+try the match. At this match all the court was present, and
+Laertes, by direction of the king, prepared a poisoned weapon.
+Upon this match great wagers were laid by the courtiers, as both
+Hamlet and Laertes were known to excel at this sword play; and
+Hamlet, taking up the foils, chose one, not at all suspecting the
+treachery of Laertes, or being careful to examine Laertes’s
+weapon, who, instead of a foil or blunted sword, which the laws
+of fencing require, made use of one with a point, and poisoned.
+At first Laertes did but play with Hamlet, and suffered him to
+gain some advantages, which the dissembling king magnified and
+extolled beyond measure, drinking to Hamlet’s success and
+wagering rich bets upon the issue. But after a few pauses
+Laertes, growing warm, made a deadly thrust at Hamlet with his
+poisoned weapon, and gave him a mortal blow. Hamlet, incensed,
+but not knowing,the whole of the treachery, in the scuffle
+exchanged his own innocent weapon for Laertes’s deadly one, and
+with a thrust of Laertes’s own sword repaid Laertes home, who was
+thus justly caught in his own treachery. In this instant the
+queen shrieked out that she was poisoned. She had inadvertently
+drunk out of a bowl which the king had prepared for Hamlet, in
+case that, being warm in fencing, he should call for drink; into
+this the treacherous king had infused a deadly poison, to make
+sure of Hamlet, if Laertes had failed. He had forgotten to warn
+the queen of the bowl, which she drank of, and immediately died,
+exclaiming with her last breath that she was poisoned. Hamlet,
+suspecting some treachery, ordered the doors to be shut while he
+sought it out. Laertes told him to seek no farther, for he was
+the traitor; and feeling his life go away with the wound which
+Hamlet had given him, he made confession of the treachery he had
+used and how he had fallen a victim to it: and he told Hamlet of
+the envenomed point, and said that Hamlet had not half an hour to
+live, for no medicine could cure him; and begging forgiveness of
+Hamlet, he died, with his last words accusing the king of being
+the contriver of the mischief. When Hamlet saw his end draw near,
+there being yet some venom left upon the sword, he suddenly
+turned upon his false uncle and thrust the point of it to his
+heart, fulfilling the promise which he had made to his father’s
+spirit, whose injunction was now accomplished and his foul murder
+revenged upon the murderer. Then Hamlet, feeling his breath fail
+and life departing, turned to his dear friend Horatio, who had
+been spectator of this fatal tragedy; and with his dying breath
+requested him that he would live to tell his story to the world
+(for Horatio had made a motion as if he would slay himself to
+accompany the prince in death), and Horatio promised that he
+would make a true report as one that was privy to all the
+circumstances. And, thus satisfied, the noble heart of Hamlet
+cracked; and Horatio and the bystanders with many tears commended
+the spirit of this sweet prince to the guardianship of angels.
+For Hamlet was a loving and a gentle prince and greatly beloved
+for his many noble and princelike qualities; and if he had lived,
+would no doubt have proved a most royal and complete king to
+Denmark.
+
+
+
+
+OTHELLO
+
+
+Brabantio, the rich senator of Venice, had a fair daughter, the
+gentle Desdemona. She was sought to by divers suitors, both on
+account of her many virtuous qualities and for her rich
+expectations. But among the suitors of her own clime and
+complexion she saw none whom she could affect, for this noble
+lady, who regarded the mind more than the features of men, with a
+singularity rather to be admired than imitated had chosen for the
+object of her affections a Moor, a black, whom her father loved
+and often invited to his house.
+
+Neither is Desdemona to be altogether condemned for the
+unsuitableness of the person whom she selected for her lover.
+Bating that Othello was black, the noble Moor wanted nothing
+which might recommend him to the affections of the greatest lady.
+He was a soldier, and a brave one; and by his conduct in bloody
+wars against the Turks had risen to the rank of general in the
+Venetian service, and was esteemed and trusted by the state.
+
+He had been a traveler, and Desdemona (as is the manner of
+ladies) loved to hear him tell the story of his adventures, which
+he would run through from his earliest recollection; the battles,
+sieges, and encounters which he had passed through; the perils he
+had been exposed to by land and by water; his hair-breadth
+escapes, when he had entered a breach or marched up to the mouth
+of a cannon; and how he had been taken prisoner by the insolent
+enemy, and sold to slavery; how he demeaned himself in that
+state, and how he escaped: all these accounts, added to the
+narration of the strange things he had seen in foreign countries,
+the vast wilderness and romantic caverns, the quarries, the rocks
+and mountains whose heads are in the clouds; of the savage
+nations, the cannibals who are man-eaters, and a race of people
+in Africa whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders. These
+travelers’ stories would so enchain the attention of Desdemona
+that if she were called off at any time by household affairs she
+would despatch with all haste that business, and return, and with
+a greedy ear devour Othello’s discourse. And once he took
+advantage of a pliant hour and drew from her a prayer that he
+would tell her the whole story of his life at large, of which she
+had heard so much, but only by parts. To which he consented, and
+beguiled her of many a tear when he spoke of some distressful
+stroke which his youth had suffered.
+
+His story being done, she gave him for his pains a world of
+sighs. She swore a pretty oath that it was all passing strange,
+and pitiful, wondrous pitiful. She wished (she said) she had not
+heard it, yet she wished that Heaven had made her such a man; and
+then she thanked him, and told him, if he had a friend who loved
+her, he had only to teach him how to tell his story and that
+would woo her. Upon this hint, delivered not with more frankness
+than modesty, accompanied with certain bewitching prettiness and
+blushes, which Othello could not but understand, he spoke more
+openly of his love, and in this golden opportunity gained the
+consent of the generous Lady Desdemona privately to marry him.
+
+Neither Othello’s color nor his fortune was such that it could be
+hoped Brabantio would accept him for a son-in-law. He had left
+his daughter free; but he did expect that, as the manner of noble
+Venetian ladies was, she would choose erelong a husband of
+senatorial rank or expectations; but in this he was deceived.
+Desdemona loved the Moor, though he was black, and devoted her
+heart and fortunes to his valiant parts and qualities. So was her
+heart subdued to an implicit devotion to the man she had selected
+for a husband that his very color, which to all but this
+discerning lady would have proved an insurmountable objection,
+was by her esteemed above all the white skins and clear
+complexions of the young Venetian nobility, her suitors.
+
+Their marriage, which, though privately carried, could not long
+be kept a secret, came to the ears of the old man, Brabantio, who
+appeared in a solemn council of the senate as an accuser of the
+Moor Othello, who by spells and witchcraft (he maintained) had
+seduced the affections of the fair Desdemona to marry him,
+without the consent of her father, and against the obligations of
+hospitality.
+
+At this juncture of time it happened that the state of Venice had
+immediate need of the services of Othello, news having arrived
+that the Turks with mighty preparation had fitted out a fleet,
+which was bending its course to the island of Cyprus, with intent
+to regain that strong post from the Venetians, who then held it;
+in this emergency the state turned its eyes upon Othello, who
+alone was deemed adequate to conduct the defense of Cyprus
+against the Turks. So that Othello, now summoned before the
+senate, stood in their presence at once as a candidate for a
+great state employment and as a culprit charged with offenses
+which by the laws of Venice were made capital.
+
+The age and senatorial character of old Brabantio commanded a
+most patient hearing from that grave assembly; but the incensed
+father conducted his accusation with so much intemperance,
+producing likelihoods and allegations for proofs, that, when
+Othello was called upon for his defense, he had only to relate a
+plain tale of the course of his love; which he did with such an
+artless eloquence, recounting the whole story of his wooing as we
+have related it above, and delivered his speech with so noble a
+plainness (the evidence of truth) that the duke, who sat as chief
+judge, could not help confessing that a tale so told would have
+won his daughter, too, and the spells and conjurations which
+Othello had used in his courtship plainly appeared to have been
+no more than the honest arts of men in love, and the only
+witchcraft which he had used the faculty of telling a soft tale
+to win a lady’s ear.
+
+This statement of Othello was confirmed by the testimony of the
+Lady Desdemona herself, who appeared in court and, professing a
+duty to her father for life and education, challenged leave of
+him to profess a yet higher duty to her lord and husband, even so
+much as her mother had shown in preferring him (Brabantio) above
+HER father.
+
+The old senator, unable to maintain his plea, called the Moor to
+him with many expressions of sorrow, and, as an act of necessity,
+bestowed upon him his daughter, whom, if he had been free to
+withhold her (he told him), he would with all his heart have kept
+from him; adding that he was glad at soul that he had no other
+child, for this behavior of Desdemona would have taught him to be
+a tyrant and hang clogs on them for her desertion.
+
+This difficulty being got over, Othello, to whom custom had
+rendered the hardships of a military life as natural as food and
+rest are to other men, readily undertook the management of the
+wars in Cyprus; and Desdemona, preferring the honor of her lord
+(though with danger) before the indulgence of those idle delights
+in which new-married people usually waste their time, cheerfully
+consented to his going.
+
+No sooner were Othello and his lady landed in Cyprus than news
+arrived that a desperate tempest had dispersed the Turkish fleet,
+and thus the island was secure from any immediate apprehension of
+an attack. But the war which Othello was to suffer was now
+beginning; and the enemies which malice stirred up against his
+innocent lady proved in their nature more deadly than strangers
+or infidels.
+
+Among all the general’s friends no one possessed the confidence
+of Othello more entirely than Cassio. Michael Cassio was a young
+soldier, a Florentine, gay, amorous, and of pleasing address,
+favorite qualities with women; he was handsome and eloquent, and
+exactly such a person as might alarm the jealousy of a man
+advanced in years (as Othello in some measure was) who had
+married a young and beautiful wife; but Othello was as free from
+jealousy as he was noble, and as incapable of suspecting as of
+doing a base action. He had employed this Cassio in his love
+affair with Desdemona, and Cassio had been a sort of go-between
+in his suit; for Othello, fearing that himself had not those soft
+parts of conversation which please ladies, and finding these
+qualities in his friend, would often depute Cassio to go (as he
+phrased it) a-courting for him, such innocent simplicity being
+rather an honor than a blemish to the character of the valiant
+Moor. So that no wonder if, next to Othello himself (but at far
+distance, as beseems a virtuous wife), the gentle Desdemona loved
+and trusted Cassio. Nor had the marriage of this couple made any
+difference in their behavior to Michael Cassio. He frequented
+their house, and his free and rattling talk was no unpleasing
+variety to Othello, who was himself of a more serious temper; for
+such tempers are observed often to delight in their contraries,
+as a relief from the oppressive excess of their own; and
+Desdemona and Cassio would talk and laugh together, as in the
+days when he went a-courting for his friend.
+
+Othello had lately promoted Cassio to be the lieutenant, a place
+of trust, and nearest to the general’s person. This promotion
+gave great offense to Iago, an older officer who thought he had a
+better claim than Cassio, and would often ridicule Cassio as a
+fellow fit only for the company of ladies and one that knew no
+more of the art of war or how to set an army in array for battle
+than a girl. Iago hated Cassio, and he hated Othello as well for
+favoring Cassio as for an unjust suspicion, which he had lightly
+taken up against Othello, that the Moor was too fond of Iago’s
+wife Emilia. From these imaginary provocations the plotting mind
+of Iago conceived a horrid scheme of revenge, which should
+involve Cassio, the Moor, and Desdemona in one common ruin.
+
+Iago was artful, and had studied human nature deeply, and he knew
+that of all the torments which afflict the mind of man (and far
+beyond bodily torture) the pains of jealousy were the most
+intolerable and had the sorest sting. If he could succeed in
+making Othello jealous of Cassio he thought it would be an
+exquisite plot of revenge and might end in the death of Cassio or
+Othello, or both; he cared not.
+
+The arrival of the general and his lady in Cyprus, meeting with
+news of the dispersion of the enemy’s fleet, made a sort of
+holiday in the island. Everybody gave himself up to feasting and
+making merry. Wine flowed in abundance, and cups went round to
+the health of the black Othello and his lady the fair Desdemona.
+
+Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge
+from Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that
+no brawl might arise to fright the inhabitants or disgust them
+with the new-landed forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid
+plans of mischief. Under color of loyalty and love to the
+general, he enticed Cassio to make rather too free with the
+bottle (a great fault in an officer upon guard). Cassio for a
+time resisted, but he could not long hold out against the honest
+freedom which Iago knew how to put on, but kept swallowing glass
+after glass (as Iago still plied him with drink and encouraging
+songs), and Cassio’s tongue ran over in praise of the Lady
+Desdemona, whom he again and again toasted, affirming that she
+was a most exquisite lady. Until at last the enemy which he put
+into his mouth stole away his brains; and upon some provocation
+given him by a fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn,
+and Montano, a worthy officer, who interfered to appease the
+dispute, was wounded in the scuffle. The riot now began to be
+general, and Iago, who had set on foot the mischief, was foremost
+in spreading the alarm, causing the castle bell to be rung (as if
+some dangerous mutiny instead of a slight drunken quarrel had
+arisen). The alarm-bell ringing awakened Othello, who, dressing
+in a hurry and coming to the scene of action, questioned Cassio
+of the cause.
+
+Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the wine having a
+little gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and Iago,
+pretending a great reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were,
+forced into it by Othello, who insisted to know the truth, gave
+an account of the whole matter (leaving out his own share in it,
+which Cassio was too far gone to remember) in such a manner as,
+while he seemed to make Cassio’s offense less, did indeed make it
+appear greater than it was. The result was that Othello, who was
+a strict observer of discipline, was compelled to take away
+Cassio’s place of lieutenant from him.
+
+Thus did Iago’s first artifice succeed completely; he had now
+undermined his hated rival and thrust him,out of his place; but a
+further use was hereafter to be made of the adventure of this
+disastrous night.
+
+Cassio, whom this misfortune had entirely sobered, now lamented
+to his seeming friend Iago that he should have been such a fool
+as to transform himself into a beast. He was undone, for how
+could he ask the general for his place again? He would tell him
+he was a drunkard. He despised himself. Iago, affecting to make
+light of it, said that he, or any man living, might be drunk upon
+occasion; it remained now to make the best of a bad bargain. The
+general’s wife was now the general, and could do anything with
+Othello; that he were best to apply to the Lady Desdemona to
+mediate for him with her lord; that she was of a frank, obliging
+disposition and would readily undertake a good office of this
+sort and set Cassio right again in the general’s favor; and then
+this crack in their love would be made stronger than ever. A good
+advice of Iago, if it had not been given for wicked purposes,
+which will after appear.
+
+Cassio did as Iago advised him, and made application to the Lady
+Desdemona, who was easy to be won over in any honest suit; and
+she promised Cassio that she should be his solicitor with her
+lord, and rather die than give up his cause. This she immediately
+set about in so earnest and pretty a manner that Othello, who was
+mortally offended with Cassio, could not put her off. When he
+pleaded delay, and that it was too soon to pardon such an
+offender, she would not be beat back, but insisted that it should
+be the next night, or the morning after, or the next morning to
+that at farthest. Then she showed how penitent and humbled poor
+Cassio was, and that his offense did not deserve so sharp a
+check. And when Othello still hung back:
+
+“What! my lord,” said she, “that I should have so much to do to
+plead for Cassio, Michael Cassio, that came a-courting for you,
+and oftentimes, when I have spoken in dispraise of you has taken
+your part! I count this but a little thing to ask of you. When I
+mean to try your love indeed I shall ask a weighty matter.”
+
+Othello could deny nothing to such a pleader, and only requesting
+that Desdemona would leave the time to him, promised to receive
+Michael Cassio again in favor.
+
+It happened that Othello and Iago had entered into the room where
+Desdemona was, just as Cassio, who had been imploring her
+intercession, was departing at the opposite door; and Iago, who
+was full of art, said in a low voice, as if to himself, “I like
+not that.” Othello took no great notice of what he said; indeed,
+the conference which immediately took place with his lady put it
+out of his head; but he remembered it afterward. For when
+Desdemona was gone, Iago, as if for mere satisfaction of his
+thought, questioned Othello whether Michael Cassio, when Othello
+was courting his lady, knew of his love. To this the general
+answering in the affirmative, and adding, that he had gone
+between them very often during the courtship, Iago knitted his
+brow, as if he had got fresh light on some terrible matter, and
+cried, “Indeed!” This brought into Othello’s mind the words which
+Iago had let fall upon entering the room and seeing Cassio with
+Desdemona; and he began to think there was some meaning in all
+this, for he deemed Iago to be a just man, and full of love and
+honesty, and what in a false knave would be tricks in him seemed
+to be the natural workings of an honest mind, big with something
+too great for utterance. And Othello prayed Iago to speak what he
+knew and to give his worst thoughts words.
+
+“And what,” said Iago, “if some thoughts very vile should have
+intruded into my breast, as where is the palace into which foul
+things do not enter?” Then Iago went on to say, what a pity it
+were if any trouble should arise to Othello out of his imperfect
+observations; that it would not be for Othello’s peace to know
+his thoughts; that people’s good names were not to be taken away
+for slight suspicions; and when Othello’s curiosity was raised
+almost to distraction with these hints and scattered words, Iago,
+as if in earnest care for Othello’s peace of mind, besought him
+to beware of jealousy. With such art did this villain raise
+suspicions in the unguarded Othello, by the very caution which he
+pretended to give him against suspicion.
+
+“I know,” said Othello, “that my wife is fair, loves company and
+feasting, is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; but
+where virtue is, these qualities are virtuous. I must have proof
+before I think her dishonest.”
+
+Then Iago, as if glad that Othello was slow to believe ill of his
+lady, frankly declared that he had no proof, but begged Othello
+to see her behavior well, when Cassio was by; not to be jealous
+nor too secure neither, for that he (Iago) knew the dispositions
+of the Italian ladies, his country-women, better than Othello
+could do; and that in Venice the wives let Heaven see many pranks
+they dared not show their husbands. Then he artfully insinuated
+that Desdemona deceived her father in marrying with Othello, and
+carried it so closely that the poor old man thought that
+witchcraft had been used. Othello was much moved with this
+argument, which brought the matter home to him, for if she had
+deceived her father why might she not deceive her husband?
+
+Iago begged pardon for having moved him; but Othello, assuming an
+indifference, while he was really shaken with inward grief at
+Iago’s words, begged him to go on, which Iago did with many
+apologies, as if unwilling to produce anything against Cassio,
+whom he called his friend. He then came strongly to the point and
+reminded Othello how Desdemona had refused many suitable matches
+of her own clime and complexion, and had married him, a Moor,
+which showed unnatural in her and proved her to have a headstrong
+will; and when her better judgment returned, how probable it was
+she should fall upon comparing Othello with the fine forms and
+clear white complexions of the young Italians her countrymen. He
+concluded with advising Othello to put off his reconcilement with
+Cassio a little longer, and in the mean while to note with what
+earnestness Desdemona should intercede in his behalf; for that
+much would be seen in that. So mischievously did this artful
+villain lay his plots to turn the gentle qualities of this
+innocent lady into her destruction, and make a net for her out of
+her own goodness to entrap her, first setting Cassio on to
+entreat her mediation, and then out of that very mediation
+contriving stratagems for her ruin.
+
+The conference ended with Iago’s begging Othello to account his
+wife innocent until he had more decisive proof; and Othello
+promised to be patient; but from that moment the deceived Othello
+never tasted content of mind. Poppy, nor the juice of mandragora,
+nor all the sleeping potions in the world, could ever again
+restore to him that sweet rest which he had enjoyed but
+yesterday. His occupation sickened upon him. He no longer took
+delight in arms. His heart, that used to be roused at the sight
+of troops and banners and battle array, and would stir and leap
+at the sound of a drum or a trumpet or a neighing war-horse,
+seemed to have lost all that pride and ambition which are a
+soldier’s virtue; and his military ardor and all his old joys
+forsook him. Sometimes he thought his wife honest, and at times
+he thought her not so; sometimes he thought Iago just, and at
+times he thought him not so; then he would wish that he had never
+known of it; he was not the worse for her loving Cassio, so long
+as he knew it not. Torn to pieces with these distracting
+thoughts, he once laid hold on Iago’s throat and demanded proof
+of Desdemona’s guilt, or threatened instant death for his having
+belied her. Iago, feigning indignation that his honesty should be
+taken for a vice, asked Othello if he had not sometimes seen a
+handkerchief spotted with strawberries in his wife’s hand.
+Othello answered that he had given her such a one, and that it
+was his first gift.
+
+“That same handkerchief,” said Iago, “did I see Michael Cassio
+this day wipe his face with.”
+
+“If it be as you say,” said Othello, “I will not rest till a wide
+revenge swallow them up; and first, for a token of your fidelity,
+I expect that Cassio shall be put to death within three days; and
+for that fair devil [meaning his lady] I will withdraw and devise
+some swift means of death for her.”
+
+Trifles light as air are to the jealous proofs as strong as holy
+writ. A handkerchief of his wife’s seen in Cassio’s hand was
+motive enough to the deluded Othello to pass sentence of death
+upon them both, without once inquiring how Cassio came by it.
+Desdemona had never given such a present to Cassio, nor would
+this constant lady have wronged her lord with doing so naughty a
+thing as giving his presents to another man; both Cassio and,
+Desdemona were innocent of any offense against Othello; but the
+wicked Iago, whose spirits never slept in contrivance of
+villainy, had made his wife (a good, but a weak woman) steal this
+handkerchief from Desdemona, under pretense of getting the work
+copied, but in reality to drop it in Cassio’s way, where he might
+find it, and give a handle to Iago’s suggestion that it was
+Desdemona’s present.
+
+Othello, soon after meeting his wife, pretended that he had a
+headache (as he might indeed with truth), and desired her to lend
+him her handkerchief to hold to his temples. She did so.
+
+“Not this,” said Othello, “but that handkerchief I gave you.”
+
+Desdemona had it not about her (for indeed it was stolen, as we
+have related).
+
+“How?” said Othello, “this is a fault indeed. That handkerchief
+an Egyptian woman gave to my mother; the woman was a witch and
+could read people’s thoughts. She told my mother while she kept
+it it would make her amiable and my father would love her; but if
+she lost it or gave it away, my father’s fancy would turn and he
+would loathe her as much as he had loved her. She, dying, gave it
+to me, and bade me, if I ever married, to give it to my wife. I
+did so. Take heed of it. Make it a darling as precious as your
+eye.”
+
+“Is it possible?” said the frighted lady.
+
+“‘Tis true,” continued Othello; “it is a magical handkerchief; a
+sibyl that had lived in the world two hundred years, in a fit of
+prophetic fury worked it; the silkworms that furnished the silk
+were hallowed, and it was dyed in a mummy of maidens’ hearts
+conserved.”
+
+Desdemona, hearing the wondrous virtues of the handkerchief, was
+ready to die with fear, for she plainly perceived she had lost
+it, and with it, she feared, the affections of her husband. Then
+Othello started and looked as if he were going to do some rash
+thing, and still he demanded the handkerchief, which when she
+could not produce, she tried to divert her husband from too
+serious thoughts, and cheerfully told him she saw all his talk
+about the handkerchief was only to put her off from her suit
+about Michael Cassio, whom she went on to praise (as Iago had
+foretold), till Othello in perfect distraction burst out of the
+room, and then Desdemona, though unwillingly, began to suspect
+that her lord was jealous.
+
+What cause she could have ministered to him she knew not, and
+then she accused herself for accusing the noble Othello, and
+thought, to be sure, that some untoward news from Venice or some
+state troubles had puddled his spirits and made his temper not so
+sweet as formerly. And she said, “Men are not gods, and we must
+not look for that observance from them when they are married
+which they show us on the bridal day.” And she beshrewed herself
+for so unkindly judging of his unkindness.
+
+Again Othello and Desdemona met, and he accused her more plainly
+of being unfaithful and of loving another man, but he did not
+name whom. And Othello wept, and Desdemona said, “Alas! the heavy
+day! why do you weep?” And Othello told her he could have borne
+all sorts of evils with fortitude--poverty, and disease, and
+disgrace--but her infidelity had broken his heart. And he called
+her a weed that looked so fair and smelled so sweet that the
+sense ached at it; and wished she had never been born. And when
+he had left her this innocent lady was so stupefied with wonder
+at her lord’s untrue suspicion of her that a weightlike sleep
+came over her, and she only desired her attendant to make her bed
+and to lay her wedding-sheets upon it, saying that when people
+teach their babes they do it by gentle means and easy tasks, and
+Othello might have chid her so; for in good faith she was but a
+child when she was chidden. And this was all the complaint which
+this gentle lady made.
+
+Desdemona being retired to bed, expecting her lord would follow
+her, soon fell into a slumber, the effect of her troubled
+spirits, when Othello entered the chamber, full of the black
+purpose which he had meditated, of putting his lady to death. But
+when he saw her asleep he thought he would not shed her blood,
+nor scar that white skin of hers, more white than alabaster. But
+he was resolved she should die, else (as he said) she would live
+to betray, more men as she had done him. Then he kissed her for
+the last time (as he said), and that kiss was so sweet that he
+must needs kiss her again; and he wept, but he said they were
+cruel tears.
+
+Desdemona was awakened with his kisses, and she looked upon
+Othello, and she saw him gnaw his under lip and roll his eyes,
+and she knew he was always fatal when he looked so; and he bade
+her prepare for death and to say her prayers, for he would not
+kill her soul. And this innocent wife, as she lay at his mercy,
+begged for compassion and to know her fault, and then he named
+Cassio, and the handkerchief which (he said) she had given him;
+and as the guiltless lady was proceeding to clear herself he
+suddenly would hear no more, but, covering her up in the
+bedclothes, stifled her till she died.
+
+In this instant of time was brought into the house Cassio,
+wounded and bleeding, whom Iago had set one of his creatures on
+to assassinate; but the fellow not succeeding in his attempt to
+kill Cassio (whom he wounded, but not mortally), and being him-
+self killed by Iago to prevent discovery, in his pockets were
+found certain letters, which made the guilt of Iago, and the
+innocence of Cassio, clear beyond all doubt; and Cassio now came
+to beg pardon of Othello, and to ask wherein he had offended him,
+that he had employed Iago to murder him.
+
+This discovery was as a thunderstroke to Othello, who now plainly
+saw that he was no better than a murderer, and that his wife
+(poor innocent lady) had been ever faithful to him; the extreme
+anguish of which discovery making life insupportable, he fell
+upon his sword, and throwing himself upon the body of his dear
+injured lady, expired.
+
+These rash acts raised much passion of horror and amazement in
+the bystanders, for Othello had borne a fair reputation, and till
+he was wrought upon by the arts of a villain, which his own noble
+nature never gave him leave to suspect, he was a loving and a
+doting husband. He had loved not wisely, but too well; and his
+manly eyes (when be learned his mistake), though not used to weep
+on every small occasion, dropped tears as fast as the Arabian
+trees their gum. And when he was dead all his former merits and
+his valiant acts were remembered. Nothing now remained for his
+successor but to put the utmost censure of the law in force
+against Iago, who was executed with strict tortures; and to send
+word to the state of Venice of the lamentable death of their
+renowned general.
+
+
+
+
+PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+Pericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his
+dominions, to avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the
+wicked emperor of Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects
+and city of Tyre, in revenge for a discovery which the prince had
+made of a shocking deed which the emperor had done in secret; as
+commonly it proves dangerous to pry into the hidden crimes of
+great ones. Leaving the government of his people in the hands of
+his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail from
+Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who
+was mighty, should be appeased.
+
+The first place which the prince directed his course to was
+Tarsus, and hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time
+suffering under a severe famine, he took with him a store of
+provisions for its relief. On his arrival he found the city
+reduced to the utmost distress; and, he coming like a messenger
+from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the governor of
+Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks. Pericles had not been
+here many days before letters came from his faithful minister,
+warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for
+Antiochus knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched
+for that purpose sought his life. Upon receipt of these letters
+Pericles put out to sea again, amid the blessings and prayers of
+a whole people who had been fed by his bounty.
+
+He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful
+storm, and every man on board perished except Pericles, who was
+cast by the sea waves naked on an unknown shore, where he had not
+wandered long before he met with some poor fishermen, who invited
+him to their homes, giving him clothes and provisions. The
+fishermen told Pericles the name of their country was Pentapolis,
+and that their king was Simonides, commonly called the good
+Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.
+From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young
+daughter, and that the following day was her birthday, when a
+grand tournament was to be held at court, many princes and
+knights being come from all parts to try their skill in arms for
+the love of Thaisa, this fair princess. While the prince was
+listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss of his
+good armor, which disabled him from making one among these
+valiant knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of
+armor that he had taken out of the sea with his fishing-net,
+which proved to be the very armor he had lost. When Pericles
+beheld his own armor he said: “Thanks, Fortune; after all my
+crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This armor was
+bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have so
+loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me,
+and the rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm,
+hath given it back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have
+my father’s gift again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune.”
+
+The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father’s armor, repaired
+to the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at
+the tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and
+valiant princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of
+Thaisa’s love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments
+for the love of kings’ daughters, if one proved sole victor over
+all the rest, it was usual for the great lady for whose sake
+these deeds of valor were undertaken to bestow all her respect
+upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did not depart from this custom,
+for she presently dismissed all the princes and knights whom
+Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her especial
+favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as
+king of that day’s happiness; and Pericles became a most
+passionate lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment
+he beheld her.
+
+The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble
+qualities of Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished
+gentleman and well learned in all excellent arts, that though he
+knew not the rank of this royal stranger (for Pericles for fear
+of Antiochus gave out that he was a private gentleman of Tyre),
+yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the valiant unknown
+for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter’s affections
+were firmly fixed upon him.
+
+Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he
+received intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that
+his subjects of Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened
+to revolt and talked of placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne.
+This news came from Helicanus himself, who, being a loyal subject
+to his royal master, would not accept of the high dignity
+offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their intentions, that
+he might return home and resume his lawful right. It was matter
+of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his
+son-in-law (the obscure knight) was the renowned Prince of Tyre;
+yet again he regretted that he was not the private gentleman he
+supposed him to be, seeing that he must now part both with his
+admired son-in-law and his beloved daughter, whom he feared to
+trust to the perils of the sea, because Thaisa was with child;
+and Pericles himself wished her to remain with her father till
+after her confinement; but the poor lady so earnestly desired to
+go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she would
+reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.
+
+The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long
+before they reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so
+terrified Thaisa that she was taken ill, and in a short space of
+time her nurse, Lychorida, came to Pericles with a little child
+in her arms, to tell the prince the sad tidings that his wife
+died the moment her little babe was born. She held the babe
+toward its father, saying:
+
+“Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of
+your dead queen.”
+
+No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he
+heard his wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said:
+
+“O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then
+snatch those gifts away?”
+
+“Patience, good sir,” said Lychorida, “here is all that is left
+alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child’s
+sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this
+precious charge.”
+
+Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the
+little babe: “Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous
+birth had never babe! May your condition be mild and gentle, for
+you have had the rudest welcome that ever prince’s child did meet
+with! May that which follows be happy, for you have had as
+chiding a nativity as fire, air, water, earth, and heaven could
+make to herald you from the womb! Even at the first, your loss,”
+ meaning in the death of her mother, “is more than all the joys,
+which you shall find upon this earth to which you are come a new
+visitor, shall be able to recompense.”
+
+The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors
+having a superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship
+the storm would never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that
+his queen should be thrown overboard; and they said:
+
+“What courage, sir? God save you!”
+
+“Courage enough,” said the sorrowing prince. “I do not fear the
+storm; it has done to me its worst; yet for the love of this poor
+infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over.”
+
+“Sir,” said the sailors, “your queen must overboard. The sea
+works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till
+the ship be cleared of the dead.”
+
+Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition
+was, yet he patiently submitted, saying: “As you think meet. Then
+she must overboard, most wretched queen!”
+
+And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear
+wife, and as he looked on his Thaisa he said: “A terrible
+childbed hast thou had, my dear; no light, no fire; the
+unfriendly elements forget thee utterly, nor have I time to bring
+thee hallowed to thy grave, but must cast thee scarcely coffined
+into the sea, where for a monument upon thy bones the humming
+waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple shells. O
+Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket
+and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin. Lay
+the babe upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida,
+while I say a priestly farewell to my Thaisa.”
+
+They brought Pericles a large chest, in which (wrapped in a satin
+shroud) he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed
+over her, and beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written
+paper telling who she was and praying if haply any one should
+find the chest which contained the body of his wife they would
+give her burial; and then with his own hands he cast the chest
+into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered the
+sailors to make for Tarsus. “For,” said Pericles, “the babe
+cannot hold out till we come to Tyre. At Tarsus I will leave it
+at careful nursing.”
+
+After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea,
+and while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy
+gentleman of Ephesus and a most skilful physician, was standing
+by the seaside, his servants brought to him a chest, which they
+said the sea waves had thrown on the land.
+
+“I never saw,” said one of them, “so huge a billow as cast it on
+our shore.”
+
+Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and
+when it was opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and
+lovely lady; and the sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of
+jewels made him conclude it was some great person who was thus
+strangely entombed. Searching farther, he discovered a paper,
+from which he learned that the corpse which lay as dead before
+him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre; and
+much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more
+pitying the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said:
+“If you are living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks
+with woe.” Then, observing attentively Thaisa’s face, he saw how
+fresh and unlike death her looks were, and he said, “They were
+too hasty that threw you into the sea”; for he did not believe
+her to be dead. He ordered a fire to be made, and proper cordials
+to be brought, and soft music to be played, which might help to
+calm her amazed spirits if she should revive; and he said to
+those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw, “O, I
+pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she has
+not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow
+into life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this
+fair creature will live to make us weep to hear her fate.”
+
+Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had
+fallen into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her
+to be dead; and now by the care of this kind gentleman she once
+more revived to light and life; and, opening her eyes, she said:
+
+“Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this?”
+
+By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen
+her; and when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the
+sight he showed her the paper written by her husband, and the
+jewels; and she looked on the paper and said:
+
+“It is my lord’s writing. That I was shipped at sea I well
+remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy
+gods I cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never
+shall see again, I will put on a vestal livery and never more
+have joy.”
+
+“Madam,” said Cerimon, “if you purpose as you speak, the temple
+of Diana is not far distant from hence; there you may abide as a
+vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there
+attend you.” This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa;
+and when she was perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the
+temple of Diana, where she became a vestal or priestess of that
+goddess, and passed her days in sorrowing for her husband’s
+supposed loss, and in the most devout exercises of those times.
+
+Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina,
+because she was born at sea) to Tarsus, intending to leave her
+with Cleon, the governor of that city, and his wife Dionysia,
+thinking, for the good he had done to them at the time of their
+famine, they would be kind to his little motherless daughter.
+When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great loss which
+had befallen him he said, “Oh, your sweet queen, that it had
+pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed
+my eyes with the sight of her!”
+
+Pericles replied: “We must obey the powers above us. Should I
+rage and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end
+must be as it is. My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your
+charity with her. I leave her the infant of your care, beseeching
+you to give her princely training.” And then turning to Cleon’s
+wife, Dionysia, he said, “Good madam, make me blessed in your
+tare in bringing up my child.”
+
+And she answered, “I have a child myself who shall not be more
+dear to my respect than yours, my lord.”
+
+And Cleon made the like promise, saying: “Your noble services,
+Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn (for
+which in their prayers they daily remember you) must in your
+child be thought on. If I should neglect your child, my whole
+people that were by you relieved would force me to my duty; but
+if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge it on me and mine to
+the end of generation.”
+
+Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully
+attended to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife
+Dionysia, and with her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went
+away the little Marina knew not her loss, but Lychorida wept
+sadly at parting with her royal master.
+
+“Oh, no tears, Lychorida,” said Pericles; “no tears; look to your
+little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter.”
+
+Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in
+the quiet possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom
+he thought dead, remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina,
+whom this hapless mother had never seen, was brought up by Cleon
+in a manner suitable to her high birth. He gave her the most
+careful education, so that by the time Marina attained the age of
+fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not more studied
+in the learning of those times than was Marina. She sang like one
+immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was
+so skilful that she seemed to compose nature’s own shapes in
+birds, fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more
+like to each other than they were to Marina’s silken flowers. But
+when she had gained from education all these graces which made
+her the general wonder, Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her
+mortal enemy from jealousy, by reason that her own daughter, from
+the slowness of her mind, was not able to attain to that
+perfection wherein Marina excelled; and finding that all praise
+was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same
+age and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though
+not with the same success, was in comparison disregarded, she
+formed a project to remove Marina out of the way, vainly
+imagining that her untoward daughter would be more respected when
+Marina was no more seen. To encompass this she employed a man to
+murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design, when
+Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died. Dionysia was
+discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder
+when the young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida.
+Leonine, the man she employed to do this bad deed, though he was
+a very wicked man, could hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so
+had Marina won all hearts to love her. He said:
+
+“She is a goodly creature!”
+
+“The fitter then the gods should have her,” replied her merciless
+enemy. “Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse
+Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me?”
+
+Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied, “I am resolved.” And
+so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed
+to an untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of
+flowers in her hand, which she said she would daily strew over
+the grave of good Lychorida. The purple violet and the marigold
+should as a carpet hang upon her grave, while summer days did
+last.
+
+“Alas for met” she said, “poor unhappy maid, born in a tempest,
+when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+hurrying me from my friends.”
+
+“How now, Marina,” said the dissembling Dionysia, “do you weep
+alone? How does it chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+sorrow for Lychorida; you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is
+quite changed with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your
+flowers--the sea air will spoil them--and walk with Leonine; the
+air is fine, and will enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the
+arm and walk with her.”
+
+“No, madam,” said Marina, “I pray you let me not deprive you of
+your servant”; for Leonine was one of Dionysia’s attendants.
+
+“Come, come,” said this artful woman, who wished for a pretense
+to leave her alone with Leonine, “I love the prince, your father,
+and I love you. We every day expect your father here; and when he
+comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of
+beauty we reported you, he will think we have taken no care of
+you. Go, I pray you, walk, and be cheerful once again. Be careful
+of that excellent complexion which stole the hearts of old and
+young.”
+
+Marina, being thus importuned, said, “Well, I will go, but yet I
+have no desire to it.”
+
+As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine, “Remember what I
+have said!” shocking words, for their meaning was that he should
+remember to kill Marina.
+
+Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said, “Is the
+wind westerly that blows?”
+
+“Southwest,” replied Leonine.
+
+“When I was born the wind was north,” said she; and then the
+storm and tempest and all her father’s sorrows, and her mother’s
+death, came full into her mind, and she said, “My father, as
+Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD
+SEAMEN, to the sailors, galling his princely hands with the
+ropes, and, clasping to the masts, he endured a sea that almost
+split the deck.”
+
+“When was this?” said Leonine.
+
+“When I was born,” replied Marina. “Never were wind and waves
+more violent.” And then she described the storm, the action of
+the sailors, the boatswain’s whistle, and the loud call of the
+master, which,” said she, “trebled the confusion of the ship.”
+
+Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her
+hapless birth that these things seemed ever present to her
+imagination. But here Leonine interrupted her with desiring her
+to say her prayers. “What mean you?” said Marina, who began to
+fear, she knew not why.
+
+“If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it,” said
+Leonine; “but be not tedious; the gods are quick of ear and I am
+sworn to do my work in haste.”
+
+“Will you kill me?” said Marina. “Alas! why?”
+
+“To satisfy my lady,” replied Leonine.
+
+“Why would she have me killed?” said Marina. “Now, as I can
+remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word
+nor did any ill turn to any living creature. Believe me now, I
+never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod upon a worm once
+against my will, but I wept for it. How have I offended?”
+
+The murderer replied, “My commission is not to reason on the
+deed, but to do it.” And he was just going to kill her when
+certain pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing
+Marina, bore her off as a prize to their ship.
+
+The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene
+and sold her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition,
+Marina soon became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene
+for her beauty and her virtues, and the person to whom she was
+sold became rich by the money she earned for him. She taught
+music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the money she got by
+her scholars she gave to her master and mistress; and the fame of
+her learning and her great industry came to the knowledge of
+Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and
+Lysimachus went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see
+this paragon of excellence whom all the city praised so highly.
+Her conversation delighted Lysimachus beyond measure, for,
+though he had heard much of this admired maiden, he did not
+expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and so good,
+as he perceived Marina to be; and he left her, saying he hoped
+she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and
+that if ever she heard from him again it should be for her good.
+Lysimachus thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine
+breeding, and excellent qualities, as well as for beauty and all
+outward graces, that he wished to marry her, and, notwithstanding
+her humble situation, he hoped to find that her birth was noble;
+but whenever when they asked her parentage she would sit still
+and weep.
+
+Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told
+her he had killed Marina; and that wicked woman gave out that she
+was dead, and made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a
+stately monument; and shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his
+loyal minister Helicanus, made a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on
+purpose to see his daughter, intending to take her home with him.
+And he never having beheld her since he left her an infant in the
+care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince rejoice at
+the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen! But
+when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they
+had erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched
+father endured, and, not being able to bear the sight of that
+country where his last hope and only memory of his dear Thaisa
+was entombed, he took ship and hastily departed from Tarsus. From
+the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy melancholy seized
+him. He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to everything
+around him.
+
+Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by
+Mitylene, where Marina dwelt; the governor of which place,
+Lysimachus, observing this royal vessel from the shore, and
+desirous of knowing who was on board, went in a barge to the side
+of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity. Helicanus received him
+very courteously and told him that the ship came from Tyre, and
+that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince. “A man
+sir,” said Helicanus, “who has not spoken to any one these three
+months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his grief;
+it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper,
+but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a
+wife.”
+
+Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he
+beheld Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he
+said to him: “Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you! Hail,
+royal sir!”
+
+But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor
+did he appear to perceive any stranger approached. And then
+Lysimachus bethought him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply
+with her sweet tongue she might win some answer from the silent
+prince; and with the consent of Helicanus he sent for Marina, and
+when she entered the ship in which her own father sat motionless
+with grief, they welcomed her on board as if they had known she
+was their princess; and they cried:
+
+“She is a gallant lady.”
+
+Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he
+said:
+
+“She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble
+birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed
+in a wife.” And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the
+lowly seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find
+her, calling her FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL MARINA, telling her a great
+prince on board that ship had fallen into a sad and mournful
+silence; and, as if Marina had the power of conferring health
+and felicity, he begged she would undertake to cure the royal
+stranger of his melancholy.
+
+“Sir,” said Marina, “I will use my utmost skill in his recovery,
+provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him.”
+
+She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth,
+ashamed to tell that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first
+began to speak to Pericles of the wayward changes in her own
+fate, telling him from what a high estate herself had fallen. As
+if she had known it was her royal father she stood before, all
+the words she spoke were of her own sorrows; but her reason for
+so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the attention of the
+unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to match their
+own. The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince; he
+lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless;
+and Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to
+his amazed sight the features of his dead queen. The long silent
+prince was once more heard to speak.
+
+“My dearest wife,” said the awakened Pericles, “was like this
+maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen’s
+square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as
+silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like. Where do you live, young
+maid? Report your parentage. I think you said you had been tossed
+from wrong to injury, and that you thought your griefs would
+equal mine, if both were opened.”
+
+“Some such thing I said,” replied Marina, “and said no more than
+what my thoughts did warrant me as likely.”
+
+“Tell me your story,” answered Pericles. “If I find you have
+known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your
+sorrows like a man and I have suffered like a girl; yet you do
+look like Patience gazing on kings’ graves and smiling extremely
+out of act. How lost you your name, my most kind virgin? Recount
+your story, I beseech you. Come, sit by me.”
+
+How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for
+he knew it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself
+for his own child to signify SEA-BORN.
+
+“Oh, I am mocked,” said he, “and you are sent hither by some
+incensed god to make the world laugh at me.”
+
+“Patience, good sir,” said Marina, “or I must cease here.”
+
+“Na@,” said Pericles, “I will be patient. You little know how you
+do startle me, to call yourself Marina.”
+
+“The name,” she replied, “was given me by one that had some
+power, my father and a king.”
+
+“How, a king’s daughter!” said Pericles, “and called Marina! But
+are you flesh and blood? Are you no fairy? Speak on. Where were
+you born, and wherefore called Marina?”
+
+She replied: “I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My
+mother was the daughter of a king; she died the minute I was
+born, as my good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping. The
+king, my father, left me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon
+sought to murder me. A crew of pirates came and rescued me and
+brought me here to Mitylene. But, good sir, why do you weep? It
+may be you think me an impostor. But indeed, sir, I am the
+daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living.”
+
+Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and
+doubtful if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants,
+who rejoiced at the sound of their beloved king’s voice; and he
+said to Helicanus:
+
+“O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain,
+lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores
+of my mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea,
+buried at Tarsus, and found at sea again. O Helicanus, down on
+your knees, thank the holy gods! This is Marina. Now blessings on
+thee, my child! Give me fresh garments, mine own Helicanus! She
+is not dead at Tarsus as she should have been by the savage
+Dionysia. She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel to her and
+call her your very Princess. Who is this?” (observing Lysimachus
+for the first time).
+
+“Sir,” said Helicanus, “it is the governor of Mitylene, who,
+hearing of your melancholy, came to see you.”
+
+“I embrace you, sir,” said Pericles. “Give me my robes! I am well
+with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl! But hark, what music is
+that?”--for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own
+delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
+
+“My lord, I hear none,” replied Helicanus.
+
+“None?” said Pericles. “Why, it is the music of the spheres.”
+
+As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the
+sudden joy had unsettled the prince’s understanding, and he said,
+“It is not good to cross him; let him have his way.” And then
+they told him they heard the music; and he now complaining of a
+drowsy slumber coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest
+on a couch, and, placing a pillow under his head, he, quite
+overpowered with excess of joy, sank into a sound sleep, and
+Marina watched in silence by the couch of her sleeping parent.
+
+While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve
+to go to Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the
+Ephesians, appeared to him and commanded him to go to her temple
+at Ephesus, and there before her altar to declare the story of
+his life and misfortunes; and by her silver bow she swore that if
+he performed her injunction he should meet with some rare
+felicity. When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he told
+his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the
+goddess.
+
+Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh
+himself with such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene,
+which courteous offer Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with
+him for the space of a day or two. During which time we may well
+suppose what feastings, what rejoicings, what costly shows and
+entertainments the governor made in Mitylene to greet the royal
+father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure fortunes he had so
+respected. Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus’s suit, when he
+understood how he had honored his child in the days of her low
+estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his
+proposals; only he made it a condition, before he gave his
+consent, that they should visit with him the shrine of the
+Ephesian Diana; to whose temple they shortly after all three
+undertook a voyage; and, the goddess herself filling their sails
+with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived in safety
+at Ephesus.
+
+There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles
+with his train entered the temple, the good Cerimon (now grown
+very aged), who had restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to
+life; and Thaisa, now a priestess of the temple, was standing
+before the altar; and though the many years he had passed in
+sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles, Thaisa thought she
+knew her husband’s features, and when he approached the altar and
+began to speak, she remembered his voice, and listened to his
+words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were the
+words that Pericles spoke before the altar:
+
+“Hail, Diana! to perform thy just commands I here confess myself
+the Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis
+wedded the fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought
+forth a maid-child called Marina. She at Tarsus was nursed with
+Dionysia, who at fourteen years thought to kill her, but her
+better stars brought her to Mitylene, by whose shores as I sailed
+her good fortunes brought this maid on board, where by her most
+clear remembrance she made herself known to be my daughter.”
+
+Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised
+in her, cried out, “You are, you are, O royal Pericles” and
+fainted.
+
+“What means this woman?” said Pericles. “She dies! Gentlemen,
+help.”
+
+“Sir,” said Cerimon, “if you have told Diana’s altar true, this
+is your wife.”
+
+“Reverend gentleman, no,” said Pericles. “I threw her overboard
+with these very arms.”
+
+Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this
+lady was thrown upon the Ephesian shore; how, opening the coffin,
+he found therein rich jewels and a paper; how, happily, he
+recovered her and placed her here in Diana’s temple.
+
+And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said: “O my lord,
+are you not Pericles? Like him you speak, like him you are. Did
+you not name a tempest, a birth, and death?”
+
+He, astonished, said, “The voice of dead Thaisa!”
+
+“That Thaisa am I,” she replied, “supposed dead and drowned.”
+
+“O true Diana!” exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout
+astonishment.
+
+“And now,” said Thaisa, “I know you better. Such a ring as I see
+on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears
+parted from him at Pentapolis.”
+
+“Enough, you gods!” cried Pericles. “Your present kindness makes
+my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a second time
+within these arms.”
+
+And Marina said, “My heart leaps to be gone into my mother’s
+bosom.”
+
+Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying, “Look
+who kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and
+called Marina because she was yielded there.”
+
+“Blessed and my own!” said Thaisa. And while she hung in
+rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar,
+saying:
+
+“Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer
+oblations nightly to thee.”
+
+And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa,
+solemnly affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the
+well-deserving Lysimachus in marriage.
+
+Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous
+example of virtue assailed by calamity (through the sufferance of
+Heaven, to teach patience and constancy to men), under the same
+guidance becoming finally successful and triumphing over chance
+and change. In Helicanus we have beheld a notable pattern of
+truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he might have succeeded
+to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful owner to his
+possession than to become great by another’s wrong. In the worthy
+Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how
+goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon
+mankind approaches to the nature of the gods. It only remains to
+be told that Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end
+proportionable to her deserts. The inhabitants of Tarsus, when
+her cruel attempt upon Marina was known, rising in a body to
+revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and setting fire to the
+palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their whole
+household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder,
+though but intentional and never carried into act, should be
+punished in a way befitting its enormity.
+
+
+
+
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales From Shakespeare, by Charles Lamb and Mary Lamb</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
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+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Tales From Shakespeare</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Charles Lamb and Mary Lamb</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April, 1998 [eBook #1286]<br />
+[Most recently updated: May 22, 2022]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Dianne Bean and David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE ***</div>
+
+<h1>TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">By Charles And Mary Lamb</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap00">PREFACE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">THE TEMPEST</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">A MIDSUMMER NIGHT&rsquo;S DREAM</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">THE WINTER&rsquo;S TALE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap05">AS YOU LIKE IT</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap06">THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap07">THE MERCHANT OF VENICE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap08">CYMBELINE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap09">KING LEAR</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap10">MACBETH</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap11">ALL&rsquo;S WELL THAT ENDS WELL</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap12">TAMING OF THE SHREW</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap13">THE COMEDY OF ERRORS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap14">MEASURE FOR MEASURE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap15">TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap16">TIMON OF ATHENS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap17">ROMEO AND JULIET</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap18">HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap19">OTHELLO</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap20">PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap00"></a>PREFACE</h2>
+    <p>
+      The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader as an
+      introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose his words are
+      used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in; and in whatever has
+      been added to give them the regular form of a connected story, diligent
+      care has been taken to select such words as might least interrupt the
+      effect of the beautiful English tongue in which he wrote: therefore, words
+      introduced into our language since his time have been as far as possible
+      avoided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the young readers
+      will perceive, when they come to see the source from which these stories
+      are derived, that Shakespeare&rsquo;s own words, with little alteration,
+      recur very frequently in the narrative as well as in the dialogue; but in
+      those made from the Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever
+      able to turn his words into the narrative form: therefore it is feared
+      that, in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young
+      people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this fault, if
+      it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to give as much of
+      Shakespeare&rsquo;s own words as possible: and if the &ldquo;He said&rdquo;
+      and &ldquo;She said,&rdquo; the question and the reply, should sometimes
+      seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it, because it was the
+      only way in which could be given to them a few hints and little foretastes
+      of the great pleasure which awaits them in their elder years, when they
+      come to the rich treasures from which these small and valueless coins are
+      extracted; pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps
+      of Shakespeare&rsquo;s matchless image. Faint and imperfect images they
+      must be called, because the beauty of his language is too frequently
+      destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his excellent words into
+      words far less expressive of his true sense, to make it read something
+      like prose; and even in some few places, where his blank verse is given
+      unaltered, as hoping from its simple plainness to cheat the young readers
+      into the belief that they are reading prose, yet still his language being
+      transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it must
+      want much of its native beauty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very young
+      children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have constantly kept
+      this in mind; but the subjects of most of them made this a very difficult
+      task. It was no easy matter to give the histories of men and women in
+      terms familiar to the apprehension of a very young mind. For young ladies,
+      too, it has been the intention chiefly to write; because boys being
+      generally permitted the use of their fathers&rsquo; libraries at a much
+      earlier age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of
+      Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look into this
+      manly book; and, therefore, instead of recommending these Tales to the
+      perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them so much better in the
+      originals, their kind assistance is rather requested in explaining to
+      their sisters such parts as are hardest for them to understand: and when
+      they have helped them to get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will
+      read to them (carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister&rsquo;s
+      ear) some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in the
+      very words of the scene from which it is taken; and it is hoped they will
+      find that the beautiful extracts, the select passages, they may choose to
+      give their sisters in this way will be much better relished and understood
+      from their having some notion of the general story from one of these
+      imperfect abridgments;&mdash;which if they be fortunately so done as to
+      prove delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse
+      effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little older, that
+      they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length (such a wish will be
+      neither peevish nor irrational). When time and leave of judicious friends
+      shall put them into their hands, they will discover in such of them as are
+      here abridged (not to mention almost as many more, which are left
+      untouched) many surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their
+      infinite variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a
+      world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women, the humor
+      of which it was feared would be lost if it were attempted to reduce the
+      length of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and much more
+      it is the writers&rsquo; wish that the true Plays of Shakespeare may prove
+      to them in older years&mdash;enrichers of the fancy, strengtheners of
+      virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of
+      all sweet and honorable thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity,
+      generosity, humanity: for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages
+      are full.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>THE TEMPEST</h2>
+    <p>
+      There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were
+      an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, a very
+      beautiful young lady. She came to this island so young that she had no
+      memory of having seen any other human face than her father&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided into
+      several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study; there he kept
+      his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study at that time much
+      affected by all learned men: and the knowledge of this art he found very
+      useful to him; for being thrown by a strange chance upon this island,
+      which had been enchanted by a witch called Sycorax, who died there a short
+      time before his arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released many
+      good spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large trees,
+      because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These gentle
+      spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero. Of these Ariel
+      was the chief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his nature,
+      except that he took rather too much pleasure in tormenting an ugly monster
+      called Caliban, for be owed him a grudge because he was the son of his old
+      enemy Sycorax. This Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a strange
+      misshapen thing, far less human in form than an ape: he took him home to
+      his cell, and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have been very kind
+      to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from his mother,
+      Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful: therefore he was
+      employed like a slave, to fetch wood and do the most laborious offices;
+      and Ariel had the charge of compelling him to these services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was invisible to
+      all eyes but Prospero&rsquo;s) would come slyly and pinch him, and
+      sometimes tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel, in the likeness of
+      an ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly changing his shape, in the
+      likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie tumbling in Caliban&rsquo;s way, who
+      feared the hedgehog&rsquo;s sharp quills would prick his bare feet. With a
+      variety of such-like vexatious tricks Ariel would often torment him,
+      whenever Caliban neglected the work which Prospero commanded him to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero could by
+      their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea. By his orders
+      they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which, and struggling with
+      the wild sea-waves that every moment,threatened to swallow it up, he
+      showed his daughter a fine large ship, which he told her was full of
+      living beings like themselves. &ldquo;O my dear father,&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;if by your art you have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on
+      their sad distress. See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls!
+      they will all perish. If I had power I would sink the sea beneath the
+      earth, rather than the good ship should be destroyed, with all the
+      precious souls within her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be not amazed, daughter Miranda,&rdquo; said Prospero; &ldquo;there.
+      is no harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall
+      receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my dear child.
+      You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from, and you know no more
+      of me, but that I am your father and live in this poor cave. Can you
+      remember a time before you came to this cell? I think you cannot, for you
+      were not then three years of age.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I can, sir,&rdquo; replied Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By what?&rdquo; asked Prospero; &ldquo;by any other house or
+      person? Tell me what you can remember, my child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda said: &ldquo;It seems to me like the recollection of a dream. But
+      had I not once four or five women who attended upon me?&rdquo; Prospero
+      answered: &ldquo;You had, and more. How is it that this still lives in
+      your mind? Do you remember how you came here?&rdquo; &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo;
+      said Miranda, &ldquo;I remember nothing more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twelve years ago, Miranda,&rdquo; continued Prospero, &ldquo;I was
+      Duke of Milan, and you were a princess, and my only heir. had a younger
+      brother, whose name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything; and as I
+      was fond of retirement and deep study I commonly left the management of my
+      state affairs to your uncle, my false brother (for so indeed he proved).
+      1, neglecting all worldly ends, buried among my books, did dedicate whole
+      time to the bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio, being thus in
+      possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed. The
+      opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my subjects
+      awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive me of my dukedom;
+      this he soon effected with the aid of the King of Naples, a powerful
+      prince, who was my enemy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wherefore,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;did they not that hour
+      destroy us?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My child,&rdquo; answered her father, &ldquo;they durst not, so
+      dear was the love that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a
+      ship, and when we were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a small
+      boat, without either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left us, as he
+      thought, to perish. But a kind lord of my court, one Gonzalo, who loved
+      me, had privately placed in the boat water, provisions, apparel, and some
+      books which I prize above my dukedom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my father,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;what a trouble must I have
+      been to you then!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my love,&rdquo;&rsquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;you were a little
+      cherub that did preserve me.Your innocent smiles made me bear up against
+      my misfortunes. Our food lasted till we landed on this desert island,
+      since when my chief delight has been in teaching you, Miranda, and well
+      have you profited by my instructions.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven thank you, my dear father,&rdquo; said Miranda. &ldquo;Now
+      pray tell me, sir, your reason for raising this sea-storm?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Know then,&rdquo; said her father, &ldquo;"that by means of this
+      storm, my enemies, the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast
+      ashore upon this island.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his magic wand,
+      and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just then presented himself
+      before his master., to give an account of the tempest, and how he had
+      disposed of the ship&rsquo;s company, and though the spirits were always
+      invisible to Miranda, Prospero did not choose she should hear him holding
+      converse (as would seem to her) with the empty air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my brave spirit,&rdquo; said Prospero to Ariel, &ldquo;how
+      have you performed your task?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors of the
+      mariners, and how the king&rsquo;s son, Ferdinand, was the first who
+      leaped into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear son swallowed
+      up by the waves and lost. &ldquo;But he is safe,&rdquo; said Ariel,
+      &ldquo;in a corner of the isle, sitting with his arms folded, sadly
+      lamenting the loss of the king, his father, whom he concludes drowned. Not
+      a hair of his head is injured, and his princely garments, though drenched
+      in the sea-waves, look fresher than before.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s my delicate Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;Bring
+      him hither: my daughter must see this young prince. Where is the king, and
+      my brother?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I left them,&rdquo; answered Ariel, &ldquo;searching for Ferdinand,
+      whom they have little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish. Of
+      the ship&rsquo;s crew not one is missing; though each one thinks himself
+      the only one saved; and the ship, though invisible to them, is safe in the
+      harbor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;thy charge is faithfully
+      performed; but there is more work yet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there more work?&rdquo; said Ariel. &ldquo;Let me remind you,
+      master, you have promised me my liberty. I pray, remember, , I have done
+      you worthy service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you without
+      grudge or grumbling.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now!&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;You do not recollect what a
+      torment I freed you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who
+      with age and envy was almost bent double? Where was she born? Speak; tell
+      me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, in Algiers,&rdquo; said Ariel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, was she so?&rdquo; said Prospero. &ldquo;I must recount what
+      you have been, which I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax,
+      for her witchcrafts, too terrible to enter human hearing, was banished
+      from Algiers, and here left by the sailors-; and because you were a spirit
+      too delicate to execute her wicked commands, she shut you up in a tree,
+      where I found you howling. This torment, remember, I did free you from.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, dear master,&rdquo; said Ariel, ashamed to seem
+      ungrateful; &ldquo;I will obey your commands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do so,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;and I will set you free.&rdquo;
+      He then gave orders what further he would have him do; and away went
+      Ariel, first to where he had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting
+      on the grass in the same melancholy posture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my young gentleman,&rdquo; said Ariel, when he saw him, &lsquo;I
+      will soon move you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda to
+      have a sight of your pretty person. Come. sir,, follow me.&rdquo; He then
+      began singing:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Full fathom five thy father lies;
+      Of his bones are coral made;
+  Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+      Nothing of him that doth fade,
+  But doth suffer a sea-change
+  Into something rich and strange.
+  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
+  Hark! now I hear them&mdash;Ding-dong, bell.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from the
+      stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement the sound of
+      Ariel&rsquo;s voice, till it led him to Prospero and Miranda, who were
+      sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now Miranda had never seen a man
+      before, except her own father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miranda,&rdquo; said Prospero, &ldquo;tell me what you are looking
+      at yonder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, father,&rdquo; said Miranda, in a strange surprise, &ldquo;surely
+      that is a spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a
+      beautiful creature. Is it not a spirit?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, girl,&rdquo; answered her father; &ldquo;it eats, and sleeps,
+      and has senses such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship. He
+      is somewhat altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome person. He
+      has lost his companions, and is wandering about to find them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like her
+      father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful young prince;
+      and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this desert place, and from
+      the strange sounds he had heard, expecting nothing but wonders, thought be
+      was upon an enchanted island, and that Miranda was the goddess of the
+      place, and as such he began to address her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid and was going
+      to give him an account of herself, when Prospero interrupted her. He was
+      well pleased to find they admired each other, for he plainly perceived
+      they had (as we say) fallen in love at first sight: but to try Ferdinand&rsquo;s
+      constancy, he resolved to throw some difficulties in their way: therefore,
+      advancing forward, be addressed the prince with a stern air, telling him,
+      he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him who was the lord of
+      it. &ldquo;Follow me,&rdquo; said be. &ldquo;I will tie your neck and feet
+      together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish, withered roots, and husks
+      of acorns shall be your food.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Ferdinand, &ldquo;I will resist such entertainment
+      till I see a more powerful enemy,&rdquo; and drew his sword; but Prospero,
+      waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where he stood, so that he
+      had no power to move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miranda hung upon her father, saying: &ldquo;Why are you so ungentle? Have
+      pity, I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever saw, and to me
+      he seems a true one.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; said the father. &ldquo;One word more will make me
+      chide you, girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are no
+      more such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell you, foolish
+      girl, most men as far excel this as he does Calliban.&rdquo; This he said
+      to prove his daughter&rsquo;s constancy; and she replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My affections are most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier
+      man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on, young man,&rdquo; said Prospero to the prince; &ldquo;you
+      have no power to disobey -me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not indeed,&rdquo; answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that
+      it was by magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was
+      astonished to kind himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero:
+      looking back on Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went
+      after Prospero into the cave: &ldquo;My spirits are all bound up as if I
+      were in a dream; but this man&rsquo;s threats, and the weakness which I
+      feel, would seem light to me if from my prison I might once a day behold
+      this fair maid.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell: he soon brought
+      out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking care to let
+      his daughter know the hard labour he had imposed on him, and then
+      pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood. Kings&rsquo;
+      sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after found her
+      lover almost dying with fatigue. &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;do
+      not work so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three
+      hours; pray rest yourself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my dear lady,&rdquo; said Ferdinand, &ldquo;I dare not. I must
+      finish my task before I take my rest.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will sit down,&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;I will carry your
+      logs the while.&rdquo; But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to.
+      Instead of a help Miranda became a hindrance, for they began a long
+      conversation, so that the business of log-carrying went on very slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his
+      love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing by
+      them invisible, to overhear what they said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ferdinand inquired her name, which she told, saying it was against her
+      father&rsquo;s express command she did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero only smiled at this first instance of his daughter&rsquo;s
+      disobedience, for having by his magic art caused his daughter to fall in
+      love so suddenly, he was not angry that she showed her love by forgetting
+      to obey his commands. And he listened well pleased to a long speech of
+      Ferdinand&rsquo;s, in which he professed to love her above all the ladies
+      he ever saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In answer to his praises of her beauty, which he said exceeded all the
+      women in the world, she replied: &ldquo;I do not remember the face of any
+      woman, nor have I seen any more men than you, my good friend, and my dear
+      father. How features are abroad, I know not: but, believe me, sir, I would
+      not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can my imagination form
+      any shape but yours that I could like. But, sir, I fear I talk to you too
+      freely, and my father&rsquo;s precepts I forget.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this Prospero smiled, and nodded his head, as much as to say: &ldquo;This
+      goes on exactly as I could wish; my girl will be queen of Naples.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Ferdinand, in another fine long speech (for young princes speak
+      in courtly phrases), told the innocent Miranda he was heir to the crown of
+      Naples, and that she should be his queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! sir,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I am a fool to weep at what I am
+      glad of. I will answer you in plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if
+      you will marry me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero prevented Ferdinand&rsquo;s thanks by appearing visible before
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fear nothing, my child,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;I have overheard,
+      and approve of all you have said. And, Ferdinand, if I have too severely
+      used you, I will make you rich amends, by giving you my daughter. All your
+      vexations were but trials of your love, and you have nobly stood the test.
+      Then as my gift, which your true love has worthily purchased, take my
+      daughter, and do not smile that I boast she is above all praise.&rdquo; He
+      then, telling them that he had business which required his presence,
+      desired they would sit down and talk together till he returned; and this
+      command Miranda seemed not at all disposed to disobey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Prospero left them, he called his spirit Ariel, who quickly appeared
+      before him, eager to relate what he had done with Prospero&rsquo;s brother
+      and the king of Naples. Ariel said he had left them almost out of their
+      senses with fear, at the strange things he had caused them to see and
+      hear. When fatigued with wandering about, and famished for want of food,
+      he had suddenly set before them a delicious banquet, and then, just
+      as,they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the shape of
+      a harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast vanished away.
+      Then, to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy spoke to them,
+      reminding them of their cruelty in driving Prospero from his dukedom, and
+      leaving him and his infant daughter to perish in the sea, saying, that for
+      this cause these terrors were suffered to afflict them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of Naples, and Antonio the false brother, repented the injustice
+      they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he was certain their
+      penitence was sincere, and that he, though a spirit, could not but pity
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then bring them hither, Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero: &ldquo;if you,
+      who are but a spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a human
+      being like themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them quickly, my
+      dainty Ariel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ariel soon returned with the king, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in their
+      train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he played in the
+      air to draw them on to his master&rsquo;s presence. This Gonzalo was the
+      same who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly with books and
+      provisions, when his wicked brother left him, as he thought, to perish in
+      an open boat in the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses that they did not know
+      Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old Gonzalo, calling him
+      the preserver of his life; and then his brother and the king knew that he
+      was the injured Prospero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio, with tears and sad words of sorrow and true repentance, implored
+      his brother&rsquo;s forgiveness, and the king expressed his sincere
+      remorse for having assisted Antonio to depose his brother: and Prospero
+      forgave them; and, upon their engaging to restore his dukedom, he said to
+      the King of Naples, &ldquo;I have a gift in store for you, too&rdquo;;
+      and, opening a door, showed him his son Ferdinand playing at chess with
+      Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this unexpected
+      meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh wonder!&rdquo; said Miranda, &ldquo;what noble creatures these
+      are! It must surely be a brave world that has such people in it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty and
+      excellent graces of the young Miranda as his son had been. &ldquo;Who is
+      this maid?&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;she seems the goddess that has parted
+      us, and brought us thus together.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his father had
+      fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first saw Miranda,
+      &ldquo;she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is mine; I chose
+      her when I could not ask you, my father, for your consent, not thinking
+      you were alive. She is the daughter this Prospero, who is the famous Duke
+      of Milan, of whose renown I have heard so much, but never saw him till
+      now: of him I have received a new life: he has made himself to me a second
+      father, giving me this dear lady.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I must be her father,&rdquo; said the king; &ldquo;but, oh,
+      how oddly will it sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more of that,&rdquo; said Prospero: &ldquo;let us not remember
+      our troubles past, since they so happily have ended.&rdquo; And then
+      Prospero embraced his brother, and again assured him of his forgiveness;
+      and said that a wise overruling Providence had permitted that he should be
+      driven from his poor dukedom of Milan, that his daughter might inherit the
+      crown of Naples, for that by their meeting in this desert island it had
+      happened that the king&rsquo;s son had loved Miranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his brother, so
+      filled Antonio with shame and remorse that be wept and was unable to
+      speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see this joyful reconciliation,
+      and prayed for blessings on the young couple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor, and the
+      sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter would accompany
+      them home the next morning. &ldquo;In the mean time,&rdquo; says he,
+      &ldquo;partake of such refreshments as my poor cave affords; and for your
+      evening&rsquo;s entertainment I will relate the history of my life from my
+      first landing in this desert island.&rdquo; He then called for Caliban to
+      prepare some food, and set the cave in order; and the company were
+      astonished at the uncouth form and savage appearance of this ugly monster,
+      who (Prospero said) was the only attendant he had to wait upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Prospero left the island he dismissed Ariel from service, to the
+      great joy of that lively little spirit, who, though he had been a faithful
+      servant to his master, was always longing to enjoy his free liberty, to
+      wander uncontrolled in the air, like a wild bird, under green trees, among
+      pleasant fruits, and sweet-smelling flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My quaint Ariel,&rdquo; said Prospero to the little sprite when he
+      made him free, &ldquo;I shall miss you; yet you shall have your freedom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my dear master,&rdquo; said Ariel; &ldquo;but give me
+      leave to attend your ship home with prosperous gales, before you bid
+      farewell to the assistance of your faithful spirit; and then, master, when
+      I am free, how merrily I shall live!&rdquo; Here Ariel sang this pretty
+      song:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Where the bee sucks, there suck !;
+  In a cowslip&rsquo;s bell I lie:
+  There I crouch when owls do cry.
+  On the bat&rsquo;s back I do fly
+  After summer merrily.
+  Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+  Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and wand, for he
+      was resolved never more to make use of the magic art. And having thus
+      overcome his enemies, and being reconciled to his brother and the King of
+      Naples, nothing now remained to complete his happiness but to revisit his
+      native land, to take possession of his dukedom, and to witness the happy
+      nuptials of his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the king said should
+      be instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to Naples. At
+      which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel they, after a
+      pleasant voyage, soon arrived.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>A MIDSUMMER NIGHT&rsquo;S DREAM</h2>
+    <p>
+      There was a law in the city of Athens which gave to its citizens the power
+      of compelling their daughters to marry whomsoever they pleased; for upon a
+      daughter&rsquo;s refusing to marry the man her father had chosen to be her
+      husband, the father was empowered by this law to cause her to be put to
+      death; but as fathers do not often desire the death of their own
+      daughters, even though they do happen to prove a little refractory, this
+      law was seldom or never put in execution, though perhaps the young ladies
+      of that city were not unfrequently threatened by their parents with the
+      terrors of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was one instance, however, of an old man, whose name was Egeus, who
+      actually did come before Theseus (at that time the reigning Duke of
+      Athens), to complain that his daughter whom he had commanded to marry
+      Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian family, refused to obey him,
+      because she loved another young Athenian, named Lysander. Egeus demanded
+      justice of Theseus, and desired that this cruel law might be put in force
+      against his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia pleaded in excuse for her disobedience that Demetrius had formerly
+      professed love for her dear friend Helena, and that Helena loved Demetrius
+      to distraction; but this honorable reason, which Hermia gave for not
+      obeying her father&rsquo;s command, moved not the stern Egeus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Theseus, though a great and merciful prince, had no power to alter the
+      laws of his country; therefore he could only give Hermia four days to
+      consider of it: and at the end of that time, if she still refused to marry
+      Demetrius, she was to be put to death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermia was dismissed from the presence of the duke, she went to her
+      lover Lysander and told him the peril she was in, and that she must either
+      give him up and marry Demetrius or lose her life in four days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysander was in great affliction at hearing these evil tidings; but,
+      recollecting that be had an aunt who lived at some distance from Athens,
+      and that at the place where she lived the cruel law could not be put in
+      force against Hermia (this law not extending beyond the boundaries of the
+      city), he proposed to Hermia that she should steal out of her father&rsquo;s
+      house that night, and go with him to his aunt&rsquo;s house, where he
+      would marry her. &ldquo;I will meet you,&rdquo; said Lysander, &ldquo;in
+      the wood a few miles without the city; in that delightful wood where we
+      have so often walked with Helena in the pleasant month of May.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this proposal Hermia joyfully agreed; and she told no one of her
+      intended flight but her friend Helena. Helena (as maidens will do foolish
+      things for love) very ungenerously resolved to go and tell this to
+      Demetrius, though she could hope no benefit from betraying her friend&rsquo;s
+      secret but the poor pleasure of following her faithless lover to the wood;
+      for she well knew that Demetrius would go thither in pursuit of Hermia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wood in which Lysander and Hermia proposed to meet was the favorite
+      haunt of those little beings known by the name of &ldquo;fairies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon the king, and Titania the queen of the fairies, with all their tiny
+      train of followers, in this wood held their midnight revels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Between this little king and queen of sprites there happened, at this
+      time, a sad disagreement; they never met by moonlight in the shady walk of
+      this pleasant wood but they were quarreling, till all their fairy elves
+      would creep into acorn-cups and hide themselves for fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cause of this unhappy disagreement was Titania&rsquo;s refusing give
+      Oberon a little changeling boy, whose mother had been Titania&rsquo;s
+      friend; and upon her death the fairy queen stole the child from its nurse
+      and brought him up in the woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The night on which the lovers were to meet in this wood, as Titania was
+      walking with some of her maids of honor, she met Oberon attended by his
+      train of fairy courtiers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,&rdquo; said the fairy king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen replied: &ldquo;What, jealous Oberon, is it you? Fairies, skip
+      hence; I have forsworn his company.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry, rash fairy,&rdquo; said Oberon. &ldquo;Am I not thy lord?
+      Why does Titania cross her Oberon? Give me your little changeling boy to
+      be my page.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set your heart at rest,&rdquo; answered the queen; &ldquo;your
+      whole fairy kingdom buys not the boy of me.&rdquo; She then left her lord
+      in great anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, go your way,&rdquo; said Oberon; &ldquo;before the morning
+      dawns I will torment you for this injury.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon then sent for Puck, his chief favorite and privy counselor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow) was a shrewd and
+      knavish sprite, that used to play comical pranks in the neighboring
+      villages; sometimes getting into the dairies and skimming the milk,
+      sometimes plunging his light and airy form into the butter-churn, and
+      while he was dancing his fantastic shape in the churn, in vain the dairymaid
+      would labor to change her cream into butter. Nor had the village swains
+      any better success; whenever Puck chose to play his freaks in the brewing
+      copper, the ale was sure to be spoiled. When a few good neighbors were met
+      to drink some comfortable ale together, Puck would jump into the bowl of
+      ale in the likeness of a roasted crab, and when some old goody was going
+      to drink he would bob against her lips, and spill the ale over her
+      withered chin; and presently after, when the same old dame was gravely
+      seating herself to tell her neighbors a sad and melancholy story, Puck
+      would slip her three-legged stool from under her, and down toppled the
+      poor old woman, and then the old gossips would hold their sides and laugh
+      at her, and swear they never wasted a merrier hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come hither, Puck,&rdquo; said Oberon to this little merry wanderer
+      of the night; &ldquo;fetch me the flower which maids call &lsquo;Love in,
+      Idleness&rsquo;; the juice of that little purple flower laid on the
+      eyelids of those who sleep will make them, when they awake, dote on the
+      first thing they see. Some of the juice of that flower I will drop on the
+      eyelids of my Titania when she is asleep; and the first thing she looks
+      upon when she opens her eyes she will fall in love with, even though it be
+      a lion or a bear, a meddling monkey or a busy ape; and before I will take
+      this charm from off her sight, which I can do with another charm I know
+      of, I will make her give me that boy to be my page.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck, who loved mischief to his heart, was highly diverted with this
+      intended frolic of his master, and ran to seek the flower; and while
+      Oberon was waiting the return of Puck he observed Demetrius and Helena
+      enter the wood: he overheard Demetrius reproaching Helena for following
+      him, and after many unkind words on his part, and gentle expostulations
+      from Helena, reminding him of his former love and professions of true
+      faith to her, he left her (as he said) to the mercy of the wild beasts,
+      and she ran after him as swiftly as she could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king, who was always friendly to true lovers, felt great
+      compassion for Helena; and perhaps, as Lysander said they used to walk by
+      moonlight in this pleasant wood, Oberon might have seen Helena in those
+      happy times when she was beloved by Demetrius. However that might be, when
+      Puck returned with the little purple flower, Oberon said to his favorite:
+      &ldquo;Take a part of this flower; there has been a sweet Athenian lady
+      here, who is in love with a disdainful youth; if you find him sleeping,
+      drop some of the love-juice in his eyes, but contrive to do it when she is
+      near him, that the first thing he sees when he awakes may be this despised
+      lady. You will know the man ]by the Athenian garments which be wears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Puck promised to manage this matter very dexterously: and then Oberon
+      went, unperceived by Titania, to her bower, where she was preparing to go
+      to rest. Her fairy bower was a bank, where grew wild thyme, cowslips, and
+      sweet violets, under a canopy of woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine.
+      There Titania always slept some part of the night; her coverlet the
+      enameled skin of a snake, which, though a small mantle, was wide enough to
+      wrap a fairy in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found Titania giving orders to her fairies, how they were to employ
+      themselves while she slept. &ldquo;Some of you,&rdquo; said her Majesty,
+      &ldquo;must kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, and some wage war with the
+      bats for their leathern wings, to make my small elves coats; and some of
+      you keep watch that the clamorous owl, that nightly boots, come not near
+      me: but first sing me to sleep.&rdquo; Then they began to sing this song:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
+    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+  Newts and blind-worms do no wrong;
+    Come not near our fairy queen:
+
+  &ldquo;Philomel, with melody,
+  Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+  Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
+  Come our lovely lady nigh;
+  So, good night, with lullaby.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When the fairies had sung their queen asleep with this pretty lullaby,
+      they left her to perform the important services she had enjoined them.
+      Oberon then softly drew near his Titania and dropped some of the
+      love-juice on her eyelids, saying:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+   Do it for thy true-love take.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      But to return to Hermia, who made her escape out of her father&rsquo;s
+      house that night, to avoid the death she was doomed to for refusing to
+      marry Demetrius. When she entered the wood, she found her dear Lysander
+      waiting for her, to conduct her to his aunt&rsquo;s house; but before they
+      had passed half through the wood Hermia was so much fatigued that
+      Lysander, who was very careful of this dear lady, who had proved her
+      affection for him even by hazarding her life for his sake, persuaded her
+      to rest till morning on a bank of soft moss, and, lying down himself on
+      the ground at some little distance, they soon fell fast asleep. Here they
+      were found by Puck, who, seeing a handsome young man asleep, and
+      perceiving that his clothes were made in the Athenian fashion, and that a
+      pretty lady was sleeping near him, concluded that this must be the
+      Athenian maid and her disdainful lover whom Oberon had sent him to seek;
+      and he naturally enough conjectured that, as they were alone together, she
+      must be the first thing he would see when he awoke; so, without more ado,
+      he proceeded to pour some of the juice of the little purple flower into
+      his eyes. But it so fell out that Helena came that way, and, instead of
+      Hermia, was the first object Lysander beheld when he opened his eyes; and
+      strange to relate, so powerful was the love-charm, all his love for Hermia
+      vanished away and Lysander fell in love with Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had he first seen Hermia when he awoke, the blunder Puck committed would
+      have been of no consequence, for he could not love that faithful lady too
+      well; but for poor Lysander to be forced by a fairy love-charm to forget
+      his own true Hernia, and to run after another lady, and leave Hermia
+      asleep quite alone in a wood at midnight, was a sad chance indeed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus this misfortune happened. Helena, as has been before related,
+      endeavored to keep pace with Demetrius when he ran away so rudely from
+      her; but she could not continue this unequal race long, men being always
+      better runners in a long race than ladies. Helena soon lost sight of
+      Demetrius; and as she was wandering about, dejected and forlorn, she
+      arrived at the place where Lysander was sleeping. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said
+      she, &ldquo;this is Lysander lying on the ground. Is he dead or asleep?&rdquo;
+      Then, gently touching him, she said, &ldquo;Good sir, if you are alive,
+      awake.&rdquo; Upon this Lysander opened his eyes, and, the love-charm
+      beginning to work, immediately addressed her in terms of extravagant love
+      and admiration, telling her she as much excelled Hermia in beauty as a
+      dove does a raven, and that be would run through fire for her sweet sake;
+      and many more such lover-like speeches. Helena, knowing Lysander was her
+      friend Hermia&rsquo;s lover, and that he was solemnly engaged to marry
+      her, was in the utmost rage when she heard herself addressed in this
+      manner; for she thought (as well she might) that Lysander was making a
+      jest of her. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;why was I born to be
+      mocked and scorned by every one? Is it not enough, is it not enough, young
+      man, that I can never get a sweet look or a kind word from Demetrius; but
+      you, sir, must pretend in this disdainful manner to court me? I thought,
+      Lysander, you were a lord of more true gentleness.&rdquo; Saying these
+      words in great anger, she ran away; and Lysander followed her, quite
+      forgetful of his own Hermia, who was still asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermia awoke she was in a sad fright at finding herself alone. She
+      wandered about the wood, not knowing what was become of Lysander, or which
+      way to go to seek for him. In the mean time Demetrius, not being able to
+      find Hermia and his rival Lysander, and fatigued with his fruitless
+      search, was observed by Oberon fast asleep. Oberon had learned by some
+      questions he had asked of Puck that he had applied the lovecharm to the
+      wrong person&rsquo;s eyes; and now, having found the person first
+      intended, he touched the eyelids of the sleeping Demetrius with the
+      love-juice, and he instantly awoke; and the first thing he saw being
+      Helena, he, as Lysander had done before, began to address love-speeches to
+      her; and just at that moment Lysander, followed by Hermia (for through
+      Puck&rsquo;s unlucky mistake it was now become Hermia&rsquo;s turn to run
+      after her lover), made his appearance; and then Lysander and Demetrius,
+      both speaking together, made love to Helena, they being each one under the
+      influence of the same potent charm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The astonished Helena thought that Demetrius, Lysander, and her once dear
+      friend Hermia were all in a plot together to make a jest of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia was as much surprised as Helena; she knew not why Lysander and
+      Demetrius, who both before loved her, were now become the lovers of
+      Helena, and to Hermia the matter seemed to be no jest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies, who before bad always been the dearest of friends, now fell to
+      high words together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unkind. Hermia,&rdquo; said Helena, &ldquo;it is you have set
+      Lysander on to vex me with mock praises; and your other lover, Demetrius,
+      who used almost to spurn me with his foot, have you not bid him call me
+      goddess, nymph, rare, precious, and celestial? He would not speak thus to
+      me, whom he hates, if you did not set him on to make a jest of me. Unkind
+      Hermia, to join with men in scorning your poor friend. Have you forgot our
+      schoolday friendship? How often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one
+      cushion, both singing one song, with our needles working the same flower,
+      both on the same sampler wrought; growing up together in fashion of a
+      double cherry, scarcely seeming parted! Hermia, it is not friendly in you,
+      it is not maidenly to join with men in scorning your poor friend.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am amazed at your passionate words,&rdquo; said Hermia: &ldquo;I
+      scorn you not; it seems you scorn me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, do,&rdquo; returned Helena, &ldquo;persevere, counterfeit
+      serious looks, and make mouths at me when I turn my back; then wink at
+      each other, and hold the sweet jest up. If you had any pity, grace, or
+      manners, you would not use me thus.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Helena and Hermia were speaking these angry words to each other,
+      Demetrius and Lysander left them, to fight together in the wood for the
+      love of Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they found the gentlemen had left them, they departed, and once more
+      wandered weary in the wood in search of their lovers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as they were gone the fairy king, who with little Puck had been
+      listening to their quarrels, said to him, &ldquo;This is your negligence,
+      Puck; or did you do this wilfully?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me, king of shadows,&rdquo; answered Puck, &ldquo;it was a
+      mistake. Did not you tell me I should know the man by his Athenian
+      garments? However, I am not sorry this has happened, for I think their
+      jangling makes excellent sport.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You heard,&rdquo; said Oberon, &ldquo;that Demetrius and Lysander
+      are gone to seek a convenient place to fight in. I command you to overhang
+      the night with a thick fog, and lead these quarrelsome lovers so astray in&rsquo;
+      the dark that they shall not be able to find each other. Counterfeit each
+      of their voices to the other, and with bitter taunts provoke them to
+      follow you, while they think it is their rival&rsquo;s tongue they hear.
+      See you do this, till they are so weary they can go no farther; and when
+      you find they are asleep, drop the juice of this other flower into
+      Lysander&rsquo;s eyes, and when he awakes he will forget his new love for
+      Helena, and return to his old passion for Hermia; and then the two fair
+      ladies may each one be happy with the man she loves and they will think
+      all that has passed a vexatious dream. About this quickly, Puck, and I
+      will go and see what sweet love my Titania has found.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Titania was still sleeping, and Oberon, seeing a clown near her who had
+      lost his way in the wood and was likewise asleep, &ldquo;This fellow,&rdquo;
+      said he, &ldquo;shall be my Titania&rsquo;s true love&rdquo;; and clapping
+      an ass&rsquo;s head over the clown&rsquo;s, it seemed to fit him as well
+      as if it had grown upon his own shoulders. Though Oberon fixed the ass&rsquo;s
+      head on very gently, it awakened him, and, rising up, unconscious of what
+      Oberon had done to him, he went toward the bower where the fairy queen
+      slept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah I what angel is that I see?&rdquo; said Titania, opening her
+      eyes, and the juice of the little purple flower beginning to take effect.
+      &ldquo;Are you as wise as you are beautiful?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mistress,&rdquo; said the foolish clown, &ldquo;if I have wit
+      enough to find the way out of this wood, I have enough to serve my turn.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out of the wood do not desire to go,&rdquo; said the enamoured
+      queen. &ldquo;I am a spirit of no common rate. I love you. Go with me, and
+      I will give you fairies to attend upon you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She then called four of her fairies. Their names were Peas-blossom,
+      Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Attend,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;upon this sweet gentleman.
+      Hop in his walks and gambol in his sight; feed him with grapes and
+      apricots, and steal for him the honey-bags from the bees. Come, sit with
+      me,&rdquo; said she to the clown., &ldquo;and let me play with your
+      amiable hairy cheeks, my beautiful ass! and kiss your fair large ears, my
+      gentle joy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Peas-blossom?&rdquo; said the ass-headed clown, not much
+      regarding the fairy queen&rsquo;s courtship, but very proud of his new
+      attendants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir,&rdquo; said little Peas-blossom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scratch my head,&rdquo; said the clown. &ldquo;Where is Cobweb?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir,&rdquo; said Cobweb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Mr. Cobweb,&rdquo; said the foolish clown, &ldquo;kill me the
+      red humblebee on the top of that thistle yonder; and, good Mr. Cobweb,
+      bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, Mr.
+      Cobweb, and take care the honey-bag break not; I should be sorry to have
+      you overflown with a honey-bag. Where is Mustard-seed?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, sir, &ldquo; said Mustard-seed. &ldquo;What is your will?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; said the clown, &ldquo;good Mr. Mustard-seed, but
+      to help Mr. Peas-blossom to scratch; I must go to a barber&rsquo;s, Mr.
+      Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sweet love,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;what will you have to
+      eat? I have a venturous fairy shall seek the squirrel&rsquo;s hoard, and
+      fetch you some new nuts.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had rather have a handful of dried peas,&rdquo;&rsquo; said the
+      clown, who with his ass&rsquo;s head had got an ass&rsquo;s appetite.
+      &ldquo;But, I pray, let none of your people disturb me, for I have a mind
+      to sleep.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sleep, then,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;and I will wind you in
+      my arms. Oh, how I love you! how I dote upon you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the fairy king saw the clown sleeping in the arms of his queen, he
+      advanced within her sight, and reproached her with having lavished her
+      favors upon an ass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This she could not deny, as the clown was then sleeping within her arms,
+      with his ass&rsquo;s head crowned by her with flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again demanded the changeling
+      boy; which she, ashamed of being discovered by her lord with her new
+      favorite, did not dare to refuse him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon, having thus obtained the little boy he had so long wished for to
+      be his page, took pity on the disgraceful situation into which, by his
+      merry contrivance, he had brought his Titania, and threw some of the juice
+      of the other flower into her eyes; and the fairy queen immediately
+      recovered her senses, and wondered at her late dotage, saying how she now
+      loathed the sight of the strange monster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon likewise took the ass&rsquo;s head from off the clown, and left him
+      to finish his nap with his own fool&rsquo;s head upon his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oberon and his Titania being now perfectly reconciled, he related to her
+      the history of the lovers and their midnight quarrels, and she agreed to
+      go with him and see the end of their adventures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king and queen found the lovers and their fair ladies, at no
+      great distance from one another, sleeping on a grass-plot; for Puck, to
+      make amends for his former mistake, had contrived with the utmost
+      diligence to bring them all to the same spot, unknown to one another; and
+      he bad carefully removed the charm from off the eyes of Lysander with the
+      antidote the fairy king gave to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermia first awoke, and, finding her lost Lysander asleep so near her, was
+      looking at him and wondering at his strange inconstancy. Lysander
+      presently opening his eyes, and seeing his dear Hermia, recovered his
+      reason which the fairy charm had before clouded, and with his reason his
+      love for Hermia; and they began to talk over the adventures of the night,
+      doubting if these things had really happened, or if they bad both been
+      dreaming the same bewildering dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena and Demetrius were by this time awake; and a sweet sleep having
+      quieted Helena&rsquo;s disturbed and angry spirits, she listened with
+      delight to the professions of love which Demetrius still made to her, and
+      which, to her surprise as well as pleasure, she began to perceive were
+      sincere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These fair night-wandering ladies, now no longer rivals, became once more
+      true friends; all the unkind words which had passed were forgiven, and
+      they calmly consulted together what was best to be done in their present
+      situation. It was soon agreed that, as Demetrius bad given up his
+      pretensions to Hermia, he should endeavor to prevail upon her father to
+      revoke the cruel sentence of death which had been passed against her.
+      Demetrius was preparing to return to Athens for this friendly purpose,
+      when they were surprised with the sight of Egeus, Hermia&rsquo;s father,
+      who came to the wood in pursuit of his runaway daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Egeus understood that Demetrius would not now marry his daughter, he
+      no longer opposed her marriage with Lysander, but gave his consent that
+      they should be wedded on the fourth day from that time, being the same day
+      on which Hermia had been condemned to lose her life; and on that same day
+      Helena joyfully agreed to marry her beloved and now faithful Demetrius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fairy king and queen, who were invisible spectators of this
+      reconciliation, and now saw the happy ending of the lovers&rsquo; history,
+      brought about through the good offices of Oberon, received so much
+      pleasure that these kind spirits resolved to celebrate the approaching
+      nuptials with sports and revels throughout their fairy kingdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their pranks,
+      as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to think that they
+      have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these adventures were visions
+      which they saw in their sleep. And I hope none of my readers will be so
+      unreasonable as to be offended with a pretty, harmless Midsummer Night&rsquo;s
+      Dream.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE WINTER&rsquo;S TALE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Leontes, King of Sicily, and his queen, the beautiful and virtuous
+      Hermione, once lived in the greatest harmony together. So happy was
+      Leontes in the love of this excellent lady that he had no wish
+      ungratified, except that he some times desired to see again and to present
+      to his queen his old companion and schoolfellow, Polixenes, King of
+      Bohemia. Leontes and Polixenes were brought up together from their
+      infancy, but being, by the death of their fathers, called to reign over
+      their respective kingdoms, they had not met for many years, though they
+      frequently interchanged gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came from Bohemia to the
+      Sicilian court, to make his friend Leontes a visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to Leontes. He recommended
+      the friend of his youth to the queen&rsquo;s particular attention, and
+      seemed in the presence of his dear friend and old companion to have his
+      felicity quite completed. They talked over old times; their school-days
+      and their youthful pranks were remembered, and recounted to Hermione, who
+      always took a cheerful part in these conversations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart, Hermione, at
+      the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to his that Polixenes
+      would prolong his visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now began this good queen&rsquo;s sorrow; for Polixenes, refusing to
+      stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione&rsquo;s gentle
+      and persuasive words to put off his departure for some weeks longer. Upon
+      this, although Leontes had so long known the integrity and honorable
+      principles of his friend Polixenes, as well as the excellent disposition
+      of his virtuous queen, he was seized with an ungovernable jealousy. Every
+      attention Hermione showed to Polixenes, though by her husband&rsquo;s
+      particular desire and merely to please him, increased the unfortunate king&rsquo;s
+      jealousy; and from being a loving and a true friend, and the best and
+      fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage and inhuman monster.
+      Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his court, and telling him of the
+      suspicion he entertained, he commanded him to poison Polixenes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that the jealousy of Leontes
+      had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of poisoning Polixenes,
+      acquainted him with the king his master&rsquo;s orders, and agreed to
+      escape with him out of the Sicilian dominions; and Polixenes, with the
+      assistance of Camillo, arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia, where
+      Camillo lived from that time in the king&rsquo;s court and became the
+      chief friend and favorite of Polixenes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more; he went to
+      the queen&rsquo;s apartment, where the good lady was sitting with her
+      little son Mamillius, who was just beginning to tell one of his best
+      stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered and, taking the child
+      away, sent Hermione to prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mamillius, though but a very young child, loved his mother tenderly; and
+      when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was taken from him to be put
+      into a prison, he took it deeply to heart and drooped and pined away by
+      slow degrees, losing his appetite and his sleep, till it was thought his
+      grief would kill him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded Cleomenes and
+      Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there to inquire of the oracle
+      at the temple of Apollo if his queen had been unfaithful to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hermione had been a short time in prison she was brought to bed of a
+      daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from the sight of her
+      pretty baby, and she said to it, &ldquo;My poor little prisoner, I am as
+      innocent as you are.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited Paulina, who was the wife
+      of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the lady Paulina heard her royal
+      mistress was brought to bed she went to the prison where Hermione was
+      confined; and she said to Emilia, a lady who attended upon Hermione,
+      &ldquo;I pray you, Emilia, tell the good queen, if her Majesty dare trust
+      me with her little babe, I will carry it to the king, its father: we do
+      not know how he may soften at the sight of his innocent child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most worthy madam,&rdquo; replied Emilia, &ldquo;I will acquaint
+      the queen with your noble offer. She was wishing to-day that she had any
+      friend who would venture to present the child to the king.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And tell her,&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;that I will speak boldly
+      to Leontes in her defense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May you be forever blessed,&rdquo; said Emilia, &ldquo;for your
+      kindness to our gracious queen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilia then went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to the care of
+      Paulina, for she had feared that no one would dare venture to present the
+      child to its father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina took the new-born infant and, forcing herself into the king&rsquo;s
+      presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king&rsquo;s anger,
+      endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its father&rsquo;s feet;
+      and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in defense of Hermione, and
+      she reproached him severely for his inhumanity and implored him to have
+      mercy on his innocent wife and child. But Paulina&rsquo;s spirited
+      remonstrances only aggravated Leontes&rsquo;s displeasure, and he ordered
+      her husband Antigonus to take her from his presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Paulina went away she left the little baby at its father&rsquo;s
+      feet, thinking when he was alone with it he would look upon it and have
+      pity on its helpless innocence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was she gone than the
+      merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina&rsquo;s husband, to take the
+      child and carry it out to sea and leave it upon some desert shore to
+      perish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of Leontes;
+      for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and put out to sea,
+      intending to leave it on the first desert coast he could find.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of Hermione that he would
+      not wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion; whom he had sent to consult
+      the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the queen was recovered from
+      her lying-in, and from the grief for the loss of her precious baby, he had
+      her brought to a public trial before all the lords and nobles of his
+      court. And when all the great lords, the judges, and all the nobility of
+      the land were assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy queen
+      was standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their judgment,
+      Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly and presented to the king the
+      answer of the oracle, sealed up; and Leontes commanded the seal to be
+      broken, and the words of the oracle to be read aloud, and these were the
+      words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject,
+      Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live without an heir if that
+      which is lost be not found.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king would give no credit to the words of the oracle. He said it was a
+      falsehood invented by the queen&rsquo;s friends, and be desired the judge
+      to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while Leontes was speaking a man
+      entered and told him that the Prince Mamillius, hearing his mother was to
+      be tried for her life, struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear, affectionate child, who
+      had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune, fainted; and Leontes,
+      pierced to the heart by the news, began to feel pity for his unhappy
+      queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the ladies who were her attendants, to
+      take her away and use means for her recovery. Paulina soon returned and
+      told the king that Hermione was dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Leontes heard that the queen was dead he repented of his cruelty to
+      her; and now that he thought his ill-usage had broken Hermione&rsquo;s
+      heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought the words of the
+      oracle were true, as he knew &ldquo;if that which was lost was not found,&rdquo;
+      which he concluded was his young daughter, he should be without an heir,
+      the young Prince Mamillius being dead; and he would give his kingdom now
+      to recover his lost daughter. And Leontes gave himself up to remorse and
+      passed many years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to sea was
+      driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very kingdom of the good
+      King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed and here he left the little baby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had left his
+      daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear came out of the
+      woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment on him for obeying the
+      wicked order Leontes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione had made it
+      very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus had pinned a paper to
+      its mantle, and the name of &ldquo;Perdita&rdquo; written thereon, and
+      words obscurely intimating its high birth and untoward fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This poor, deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane man, and
+      so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who nursed it tenderly.
+      But poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal the rich prize be had found;
+      therefore he left that part of the country, that no one might know where
+      he got his riches, and with part of Perdita&rsquo;s jewels be bought herds
+      of sheep and became a wealthy shepherd. He brought up Perdita as his own
+      child, and she knew not she was any other than a shepherd&rsquo;s
+      daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no better
+      education than that of a shepherd&rsquo;s daughter, yet so did the natural
+      graces she inherited from her royal mother shine forth in her untutored
+      mind that no one, from her behavior, would have known she had not been
+      brought up in her father&rsquo;s court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes, the King of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was Florizel.
+      As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd&rsquo;s dwelling he saw
+      the old man&rsquo;s supposed daughter; and the beauty, modesty, and
+      queenlike deportment of Perdita caused him instantly to fall in love with
+      her. He soon, under the name of Doricles, and in the disguise of a private
+      gentleman, became a constant visitor at the old shepherd&rsquo;s house.
+      Florizel&rsquo;s frequent absences from court alarmed Polixenes; and
+      setting people to watch his son, he discovered his love for the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      fair daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had preserved
+      his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he would accompany him
+      to the house of the shepherd, the supposed father of Perdita. Polixenes
+      and Camillo, both in disguise, arrived at the old shepherd&rsquo;s
+      dwelling while they were celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and
+      though they were strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing, every guest being
+      made welcome, they were invited to walk in and join in the general
+      festivity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were spread and
+      fit great preparations were making for the rustic feast. Some lads and
+      lasses were dancing on the green before the house, while others of the
+      young men were buying ribands, gloves, and such toys of a peddler at the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While this busy scene was going forward Florizel and Perdita sat quietly
+      in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the conversation of each
+      other than desirous of engaging in the sports and silly amusements of
+      those around them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could know him.
+      He therefore advanced near enough to hear the conversation. The simple yet
+      elegant manner in which Perdita conversed with his son did not a little
+      surprise Polixenes. He said to Camillo:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does or
+      says but looks like something greater than herself, too noble for this
+      place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo replied, &ldquo;Indeed she is the very queen of curds and cream.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray, my good friend,&rdquo; said the king to the old shepherd,
+      &ldquo;what fair swain is that talking with your daughter?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They call him Doricles,&rdquo; replied the shepherd. &ldquo;He says
+      he loves my daughter; and, to speak truth, there is not a kiss to choose
+      which loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her, she shall bring
+      him that he little dreams of,&rdquo; meaning the remainder of Perdita&rsquo;s
+      jewels; which, after he had bought herds of sheep with part of them, he
+      had carefully hoarded up for her marriage portion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes then addressed his son. &ldquo;How now, young man!&rdquo; said
+      he. &ldquo;Your heart seems full of something that takes off your mind
+      from feasting. When I was young I used to load my love with presents; but
+      you have let the peddler go and have bought your lass no toy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king his
+      father, replied, &ldquo;Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the gifts
+      which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.&rdquo; Then
+      turning to Perdita, he said to her, &ldquo;Oh, hear me, Perdita, before
+      this ancient gentleman, who it seems was once himself a lover; he shall
+      hear what I profess.&rdquo; Florizel then called upon the old stranger to
+      be a witness to a solemn promise of marriage which be made to Perdita,
+      saying to Polixenes, &ldquo;I pray you, mark our contract.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mark your divorce, young sir,&rdquo; said the king, discovering
+      himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract himself
+      to this low-born maiden, calling Perdita &ldquo;shepherd&rsquo;s brat,
+      sheep-hook,&rdquo; and other disrespectful names, and threatening if ever
+      she suffered his son to see her again, he would put her, and the old
+      shepherd her father, to a cruel death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to follow him
+      with Prince Florizel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was roused by
+      Polixenes&rsquo;s reproaches, said, &ldquo;Though we are all undone, I was
+      not much afraid; and once or twice I was about to speak and tell him
+      plainly that the selfsame sun which shines upon his palace hides not his
+      face from our cottage, but looks on both alike.&rdquo; Then sorrowfully
+      she said, &ldquo;But now I am awakened from this dream, I will queen it no
+      further. Leave me, sir. I will go milk my ewes and weep.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and propriety of
+      Perdita&rsquo;s behavior; and, perceiving that the young prince was too
+      deeply in love to give up his mistress at the command of his royal father,
+      he thought of a way to befriend the lovers and at the same time to execute
+      a favorite scheme he had in his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Camillo had long known that Leontes, the King of Sicily, was become a true
+      penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored friend of King Polixenes,
+      he could not help wishing once more to see his late royal master and his
+      native home. He therefore proposed to Florizel and Perdita that they
+      should accompany him to the Sicilian court, where he would engage Leontes
+      should protect them till, through his mediation, they could obtain pardon
+      from Polixenes and his consent to their marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
+      everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to go along
+      with them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita&rsquo;s jewels, her
+      baby clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her mantle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the old
+      shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes, who still
+      mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received Camillo with great
+      kindness and gave a cordial welcome to Prince Florizel. But Perdita, whom
+      Florizel introduced as his princess, seemed to engross all Leontes&rsquo;s
+      attention. Perceiving a resemblance between her and his dead queen
+      Hermione, his grief broke out afresh, and he said such a lovely creature
+      might his own daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then, too,&rdquo; said he to Florizel, &ldquo;I lost the
+      society and friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more than
+      my life once again to look upon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of Perdita,
+      and that he had lost a daughter who was exposed in infancy, he fell to
+      comparing the time when he found the little Perdita with the manner of its
+      exposure, the jewels and other tokens of its high birth; from all which it
+      was impossible for him not to conclude that Perdita and the king&rsquo;s
+      lost daughter were the same.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were present when
+      the old shepherd related to the king the manner in which he had found the
+      child, and also the circumstance of Antigonus&rsquo;s death, he having
+      seen the bear seize upon him. He showed the rich mantle in which Paulina
+      remembered Hermione had wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which
+      she remembered Hermione had tied about Perdita&rsquo;s neck; and he gave
+      up the paper which Paulina knew to be the writing of her husband. It could
+      not be doubted that Perdita was Leontes&rsquo;s own daughter. But, oh, the
+      noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for her husband&rsquo;s death
+      and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the king&rsquo;s heir, his
+      long-lost daughter being found! When Leontes heard that Perdita was his
+      daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that Hermione was not living to
+      behold her child made him that he could say nothing for a long time but
+      &ldquo;Oh, thy mother, thy mother!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene with saying to
+      Leontes that she had a statue newly finished by that rare Italian master,
+      Julio Romano, which was such a perfect resemblance of the queen that would
+      his Majesty be pleased to go to her house and look upon it, be would be
+      almost ready to think it was Hermione herself. Thither then they all went;
+      the king, anxious to see the semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita
+      longing to behold what the mother she never saw did look like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous statue, so
+      perfectly did it resemble Hermione that all the king&rsquo;s sorrow was
+      renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power to speak or move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like your silence, my liege,&rdquo; said Paulina; &ldquo;it the
+      more shows your wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the king said: &ldquo;Oh, thus she stood, even with such
+      majesty, when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so
+      aged as this statue looks.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina replied: &ldquo;So much the more the carver&rsquo;s excellence,
+      who has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had she been living
+      now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently you think it moves.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king then said: &ldquo;Do not draw the curtain. Would I were dead!
+      See, Carmillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to have
+      motion in it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must draw the curtain, my liege,&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;You
+      are so transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sweet Pauline,&rdquo; said Leontes, &ldquo;make me think so
+      twenty years together! Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
+      fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I will kiss
+      her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good my lord, forbear!&rdquo; said Paulina. &ldquo;The ruddiness
+      upon her lip is wet; you will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I
+      draw the curtain?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not these twenty years,&rdquo; said Leontes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perdita, who all this time bad been kneeling and beholding in silent
+      admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now, &ldquo;And so
+      long could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Either forbear this transport,&rdquo; said Paulina to Leontes,
+      &ldquo;and let me draw the curtain or prepare yourself for more amazement.
+      I can make the statue move indeed; aye, and descend from off the pedestal
+      and take you by the hand. But then you will think, which I protest I am
+      not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you can make her do,&rdquo; said the astonished king, &ldquo;I
+      am content to look upon. What you can make her speak I am content to hear;
+      for it is as easy to make her speak as move.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had prepared
+      for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of all the beholders,
+      the statue came down from off the pedestal and threw its arms around
+      Leontes&rsquo;s neck. The statue then began to speak, praying for
+      blessings on her husband and on her child, the newly found Perdita.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes&rsquo;s neck and blessed her
+      husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed Hermione
+      herself, the real, the living queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione&rsquo;
+      thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress&rsquo;s life;
+      and with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since, never choosing
+      Leontes should know she was living till she heard Perdita was found; for
+      though she had long forgiven the injuries which Leontes had done to
+      herself, she could not pardon his cruelty to his infant daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found, the
+      long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of his own
+      happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard on all
+      sides. Now the delighted parents thanked Prince Florizel for loving their
+      lowly seeming daughter; and now they blessed the good old shepherd for
+      preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo and Paulina rejoice that they
+      had lived to see so good an end of all their faithful services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
+      unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that Camillo had
+      long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he should find the
+      fugitives here; and, following them with all speed, he happened to just
+      arrive at this the happiest moment of Leontes&rsquo;s life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend Leontes
+      the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and they once more loved
+      each other with all the warmth of their first boyish friendship. And there
+      was no fear that Polixenes would now oppose his son&rsquo;s marriage with
+      Perdita. She was no &ldquo;sheep-hook&rdquo; now, but the heiress of the
+      crown of Sicily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering Hermione
+      rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her Leontes and her
+      Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING</h2>
+    <p>
+      There lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were Hero and
+      Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the niece, of Leonato, the
+      governor of Messina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice was of a lively temper and loved to divert her cousin Hero, who
+      was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly sallies. Whatever
+      was going forward was sure to make matter of mirth for the light-hearted
+      Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the time the history of these ladies commences some young men of high
+      rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on their return
+      from a war that was just ended, in which they bad distinguished themselves
+      by their great bravery, came to visit Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro,
+      the Prince of Arragon, and his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence;
+      and with them came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of
+      Padua.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable governor
+      introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their old friends and
+      acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, the moment he entered the room, began a lively conversation with
+      Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not to be left out of any
+      discourse, interrupted Benedick with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody
+      marks you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick was just such another rattlebrain as Beatrice, yet he was not
+      pleased at this free salutation; he thought it did not become a well-bred
+      lady to be so flippant with her tongue; and he remembered, when he was
+      last at Messina, that Beatrice used to select him to make her merry jests
+      upon. And as there is no one who so little likes to be made a jest of as
+      those who are apt to take the same liberty themselves, so it was with
+      Benedick and Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former times but
+      a perfect war of raillery was kept up between them, and they always parted
+      mutually displeased with each other. Therefore, when Beatrice stopped him
+      in the middle of his discourse with telling him nobody marked what he was
+      saying, Benedick, affecting not to have observed before that she was
+      present, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?&rdquo; And now war
+      broke out afresh between them, and a long jangling argument ensued, during
+      which Beatrice, although she knew be had so well approved his valor in the
+      late war, said that she would eat all he had killed there; and observing
+      the prince take delight in Benedick&rsquo;s conversation, she called him
+      &ldquo;the prince&rsquo;s jester.&rdquo; This sarcasm sank deeper into the
+      mind of Benedick than all Beatrice had said before. The hint she gave him
+      that he was a coward, by saying she would eat all he bad killed, he did
+      not regard, knowing himself to be a brave man; but there is nothing that
+      great wits so much dread as the imputation of buffoonery, because the
+      charge comes sometimes a little too near the truth; therefore Benedick
+      perfectly hated Beatrice when she called him &ldquo;the prince&rsquo;s
+      jester.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The modest lady Hero was silent before the noble guests; and while Claudio
+      was attentively observing the improvement which time had made in her
+      beauty, and was contemplating the exquisite graces of her fine figure (for
+      she was an admirable young lady), the prince was highly amused with
+      listening to the humorous dialogue between Benedick and Beatrice; and he
+      said in a whisper to Leonato:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a pleasant-spirited young lady. She were an excellent wife
+      for Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato replied to this suggestion, &ldquo;O my lord, my lord, if they
+      were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But though Leonato thought they would make a discordant pair, the prince
+      did not give up the idea of matching these two keen wits together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the prince returned with Claudio from the palace he found that the
+      marriage he had devised between Benedick and Beatrice was not the only one
+      projected in that good company, for Claudio spoke in such terms of Hero as
+      made the prince guess at what was passing in his heart; and he liked it
+      well, and he said to Claudio:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you affect Hero?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this question Claudio replied, &ldquo;O my lord, when I was last at
+      Messina I looked upon her with a soldier&rsquo;s eye, that liked, but had
+      no leisure for loving; but now, in this happy time of peace, thoughts of
+      war have left their places vacant in my mind, and in their room come
+      thronging soft and delicate thoughts, all prompting me how fair young Hero
+      is, reminding me that I liked her before I went to the wars.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio&rsquo;s confession of his love for Hero so wrought upon the prince
+      that be lost no time in soliciting the consent of Leonato to accept of
+      Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato agreed to this proposal, and the prince
+      found no great difficulty in persuading the gentle Hero herself to listen
+      to the suit of the noble Claudio who was a lord of rare endowments and
+      highly accomplished, and Claudio, assisted by his kind prince, soon
+      prevailed upon Leonato to fix an early day for the celebration of his
+      marriage with Hero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio was to wait but a few days before he was to be married to his fair
+      lady; yet he complained of the interval being tedious, as indeed most
+      young men are impatient when they are waiting for the accomplishment of
+      any event they have set their hearts upon. The prince, therefore, to make
+      the time seem short to him, proposed as a kind of merry pastime that they
+      should invent some artful scheme to make Benedick and Beatrice fall in
+      love with each other. Claudio entered with great satisfaction into this
+      whim of the prince, and Leonato promised them his assistance, and even
+      Hero said she would do any modest office to help her cousin to a good
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The device the prince invented was that the gentlemen should make Benedick
+      believe that Beatrice was in love with him, and that Hero should make
+      Beatrice believe that Benedick was in love with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince, Leonato, and Claudio began their operations first; and
+      watching upon an opportunity when Benedick was quietly seated reading in
+      an arbor, the prince and his assistants took their station among the trees
+      behind the arbor, so near that Benedick could not choose but hear all they
+      said; and after some careless talk the prince said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me the other day&mdash;that
+      your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick? I did never think
+      that lady would have loved any man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nor I neither, my lord,&rdquo; answered Leonato. &ldquo;It is
+      most wonderful that she should so dote on Benedick, whom she in all
+      outward behavior seemed ever to dislike.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio confirmed all this with saying that Hero bad told him Beatrice was
+      so in love with Benedick that she would certainly die of grief if he could
+      not be brought to love her; which Leonato and Claudio seemed to agree was
+      impossible, he having always been such a railer against all fair ladies,
+      and in particular against Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince affected to harken to all this with great compassion for
+      Beatrice, and he said, &ldquo;It were good that Benedick were told of
+      this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To what end?&rdquo; said Claudio. &ldquo;He would but make sport of
+      it, and torment the poor lady worse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if he should,&rdquo; said the prince, &ldquo;it were a good
+      deed to hang him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and exceeding
+      wise in everything but in loving Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the prince motioned to his companions that they should walk on and
+      leave Benedick to meditate upon what he had overheard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this conversation; and
+      he said to himself, when be heard Beatrice loved him: &ldquo;Is it
+      possible? Sits the wind in that corner?&rdquo; And when they were gone, he
+      began to reason in this manner with himself: &ldquo;This can be no trick!
+      They were very serious, and they have the truth from Hero, and seem to
+      pity the lady. Love me! Why, it must be requited! I did never think to
+      marry. But when I said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should
+      live to be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so. And
+      wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great argument of her
+      folly! But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she is a fair lady. I do spy
+      some marks of love in her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice now approached him and said, with her usual tartness, &ldquo;Against
+      my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so politely to her
+      before, replied, &ldquo;Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.&rdquo;
+      And when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left him,
+      Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness under the
+      uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud: &ldquo;If I do not take pity
+      on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get
+      her picture.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for him, it was
+      now Hero&rsquo;s turn to play her part with Beatrice; and for this purpose
+      she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two gentlewomen who attended upon her,
+      and she said to Margaret:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Margaret, run to the parlor; there you will find my cousin
+      Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio. Whisper in her ear that I
+      and Ursula are walking in the orchard and that our discourse is all of
+      her. Bid her steal into that pleasant arbor, where honeysuckles, ripened
+      by the sun, like ungrateful minions, forbid the sun to enter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This arbor into which Hero desired Margaret to entice Beatrice was the
+      very same pleasant arbor where Benedick had so lately been an attentive
+      listener.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make her come, I warrant, presently,&rdquo; said Margaret.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her: &ldquo;Now,
+      Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and down this alley, and our
+      talk must be only of Benedick, and when I name him, let it be your part to
+      praise him more than ever man did merit. My talk to you must be how
+      Benedick is in love with Beatrice. Now begin; for look where Beatrice like
+      a lapwing runs close by the ground, to hear our conference.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They then began, Hero saying&rsquo;, as if in answer to something which
+      Ursula had said: &ldquo;No, truly, Ursula. She is too disdainful; her
+      spirits are as coy as wild birds of the rock.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But are you sure,&rdquo; said Ursula, &ldquo;that Benedick loves
+      Beatrice so entirely?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero replied, &ldquo;So says the prince and my lord Claudio, and they
+      entreated me to acquaint her with it; but I persuaded them, if they loved
+      Benedick, never to let Beatrice know of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; replied Ursula, &ldquo;it were not good she knew
+      his love, lest she made sport of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, to say truth,&rdquo; said Hero, never yet saw a man, how wise
+      soever, or noble, young,@ or rarely featured, but she would dispraise him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure@ sure, such carping is not commendable,&rdquo; said Ursula.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Hero, &ldquo;but who dare tell her so? If I
+      should speak, she would mock me into air.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you wrong your cousin!&rdquo; said Ursula. &ldquo;She cannot be
+      so much without true judgment as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signor
+      Benedick.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He hath an excellent good name,&rdquo; said Hero. &ldquo;Indeed, he
+      is the first man in Italy, always excepting my dear Claudio.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, Hero giving her attendant a hint that it was time to change the
+      discourse, Ursula said, &ldquo;And when are you to be married, madam?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero then told her that she was to be married to Claudio the next day, and
+      desired she would go in with her and look at some new attire, as she
+      wished to consult with her on what she would wear on the morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beatrice, who had been listening with breathless eagerness to this
+      dialogue, when they went away exclaimed: &ldquo;What fire is in mine ears?
+      Can this be true? Farewell, contempt and scorn, and maiden pride, adieu!
+      Benedick, love on! I will requite you, taming my wild heart to your loving
+      hand.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must have been a pleasant sight to see these old enemies converted into
+      new and loving friends, and to behold their first meeting after being
+      cheated into mutual liking by the merry artifice of the good-humored
+      prince. But a sad reverse in the fortunes of Hero must now be thought of.
+      The morrow, which was to have been her wedding-day, brought sorrow on the
+      heart of Hero and her good father, Leonato.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince had a half-brother, who came from the wars along with him to
+      Messina. This brother (his name was Don John) was a melancholy,
+      discontented man, whose spirits seemed to labor in the contriving of
+      villainies. He hated the prince his brother, and he hated Claudio because
+      he was the prince&rsquo;s friend, and determined to prevent Claudio&rsquo;s
+      marriage with Hero, only for the malicious pleasure of making Claudio and
+      the prince unhappy, for he knew the prince had set his heart upon this
+      marriage almost as much as Claudio himself; and to effect this wicked
+      purpose he employed one Borachio, a man as bad as himself, whom he
+      encouraged with the offer of a great reward. This Borachio paid his court
+      to Margaret, Hero&rsquo;s attendant; and Don John, knowing this, prevailed
+      upon him to make Margaret promise to talk with him from her lady&rsquo;s
+      chamber window that night, after Hero was asleep, and also to dress
+      herself in Hero&rsquo;s clothes, the better to deceive Claudio into the
+      belief that it was Hero; for that was the end he meant to compass by this
+      wicked plot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Don John then went to the prince and Claudio and told them that Hero was
+      an imprudent lady, and that she talked with men from her chamber window at
+      midnight. Now this was the evening before the wedding, and he offered to
+      take them that night where they should themselves hear Hero discoursing
+      with a man from her window; and they consented to go along with him, and
+      Claudio said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her, to-morrow in
+      the congregation, where I intended to wed her, there will I shame her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince also said, &ldquo;And as I assisted you to obtain her, I will
+      join with you to disgrace her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Don John brought them near Hero&rsquo;s chamber that night, they saw
+      Borachio standing under the window, and they saw Margaret looking out of
+      Hero&rsquo;s window and heard her talking with Borachio; and Margaret
+      being dressed in the same clothes they had seen Hero wear, the prince and
+      Claudio believed it was the lady Hero herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could equal the anger of Claudio when he had made (as be thought)
+      this discovery. All his love for the innocent Hero was at once converted
+      into hatred, and he resolved to expose her in the church, as he had said
+      he would, the next day; and the prince agreed to this, thinking no
+      punishment could be too severe for the naughty lady who talked with a man
+      from her window the very night before she was going to be married to the
+      noble Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day, when they were all met to celebrate the marriage, and
+      Claudio and Hero were standing before the priest, and the priest, or
+      friar, as he was called, was proceeding to pronounce the marriage
+      ceremony, Claudio, in the most passionate language, proclaimed the guilt
+      of the blameless Hero, who, amazed at the strange words he uttered, said,
+      meekly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, &ldquo;My lord, why
+      speak not you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What should I speak?&rdquo; said the prince. &ldquo;I stand
+      dishonored that have gone about to link my dear friend to an unworthy
+      woman. Leonato, upon my honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved
+      Claudio did see and bear her last night at midnight talk with a man at her
+      chamber window.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick, in astonishment at what he heard, said, &ldquo;This looks not
+      like a nuptial.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True, O God!&rdquo; replied the heart-struck Hero; and then this
+      hapless lady sank down in a fainting fit, to all appearance dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince and Claudio left the church without staying to see if Hero
+      would recover, or at all regarding the distress into which they had thrown
+      Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick remained and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her swoon,
+      saying, &ldquo;How does the lady?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dead, I think,&rdquo; replied Beatrice, in great agony, for she
+      loved her cousin; and, knowing her virtuous principles, she believed
+      nothing of what she had heard spoken against her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so the poor old father. He believed the story of his child&rsquo;s
+      shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she lay like
+      one dead before him, wishing she might never more open her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the ancient friar was a wise man and full of observation on human
+      nature, and he had attentively marked the lady&rsquo;s countenance when
+      she heard herself accused and noted a thousand blushing shames to start
+      into her face, and then he saw an angel-like whiteness bear away those
+      blushes, and in her eye be saw a fire that did belie the error that the
+      prince did speak against her maiden truth, and he said to the sorrowing
+      father:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observation; trust not
+      my age, my reverence, nor my calling, if this sweet lady lie not guiltless
+      here under some biting error.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen, the
+      friar said to her, &ldquo;Lady, what man is he you are accused of?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hero replied, &ldquo;They know that do accuse me; I know of none.&rdquo;
+      Then turning to Leonato, she said, &ldquo;O my father, if you can prove
+      that any man has ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I
+      yesternight changed words with any creature, refuse me, hate me, torture
+      me to death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; said the friar, &ldquo;some strange
+      misunderstanding in the prince and Claudio.&rdquo; And then he counseled
+      Leonato that he should report that Hero was dead; and he said that the
+      deathlike swoon in which they had left Hero would make this easy of
+      belief; and he also advised him that he should put on mourning, and erect
+      a monument for her, and do all rites that appertain to a burial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall become of this?&rdquo; said Leonato. &ldquo;What will
+      this do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The friar replied: &ldquo;This report of her death shall change slander
+      into pity; that is some good. But that is not all the good 1 hope for.
+      When Claudio shall hear she died upon hearing his words, the idea of her
+      life shall sweetly creep into his imagination. Then shall he mourn, if
+      ever love had interest in his heart, and wish that be had not so accused
+      her; yea, though he thought his accusation true.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick now said, &ldquo;Leonato, let the friar advise you; and though
+      you know how well I love the prince and Claudio, yet on my honor I will
+      not reveal this secret to them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said, sorrowfully, &ldquo;I am so
+      grieved that the smallest twine may lead me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kind friar then led Leonato and Hero away to comfort and console them,
+      and Beatrice and Benedick remained alone; and this was the meeting from
+      which their friends, who contrived the merry plot against them, expected
+      so much diversion; those friends who were now overwhelmed with affliction
+      and from whose minds all thoughts of merriment seemed forever banished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, &ldquo;Lady Beatrice, have
+      you wept all this while?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yea, and I will weep awhile longer,&rdquo; said Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said. Benedick, &ldquo;I do believe your fair cousin
+      is wronged.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Beatrice, &ldquo;how much might that man deserve of
+      me who would right her!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benedick then said: &ldquo;Is there any way to show such friendship? I do
+      love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were as possible,&rdquo; said Beatrice, &ldquo;for me to say I
+      loved nothing in the world so well as you; but believe me not, and yet I
+      lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By my sword,&rdquo; said Benedick, &ldquo;you love me, and I
+      protest I love you. Come, bid me do anything for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kill Claudio,&rdquo; said Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! not for the world,&rdquo; said Benedick; for he loved his
+      friend Claudio and he believed he had been imposed upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not Claudio a villain that has slandered, scorned, and
+      dishonored my cousin?&rdquo; said Beatrice. &ldquo;Oh, that I were a man!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear me, Beatrice!&rdquo; said Benedick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Beatrice would hear nothing in Claudio&rsquo;s defense, and she
+      continued to urge on Benedick to revenge her cousin&rsquo;s wrongs; and
+      she said: &ldquo;Talk with a man out of the window? a proper saying! Sweet
+      Hero! she is wronged; she is slandered; she is undone. Oh, that I were a
+      man for Claudio&rsquo;s sake! or that I had any friend who would be a man
+      for my sake! But valor is melted into courtesies and compliments. I cannot
+      be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry, good Beatrice,&rdquo; said Benedick. &ldquo;By this hand I
+      love you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it,&rdquo; said
+      Beatrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think you on your soul that Claudio has wronged Hero?&rdquo; asked
+      Benedick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yea,&rdquo; answered Beatrice; CC as sure as I have a thought or a
+      soul.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough,&rdquo; said Benedick. &ldquo;I am engaged; I will challenge
+      him. I will kiss your hand, and so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall
+      render me a dear account! As you hear from me, so think of me. Go, comfort
+      your cousin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Beatrice was thus powerfully pleading with Benedick, and working his
+      gallant temper, by the spirit of her angry words, to engage in the cause
+      of Hero and fight even with his dear friend Claudio, Leonato was
+      challenging the prince and Claudio to answer with their swords the injury
+      they had done his child, who, be affirmed, had died for grief. But they
+      respected his age and his sorrow, and they said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now came Benedick, and be also challenged Claudio to answer with his
+      sword the injury be had done to Hero; and Claudio and the prince said to
+      each other:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beatrice has set him on to do this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claudio, nevertheless, must have accepted this challenge of Benedick had
+      not the justice of Heaven at the moment brought to pass a better proof of
+      the innocence of Hero than the uncertain fortune of a duel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the challenge of Benedick
+      a magistrate brought Borachio as a prisoner before the prince. Borachio
+      had been overheard talking with one of his companions of the mischief he
+      had been employed by Don John to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Borachio made a full confession to the prince in Claudio&rsquo;s bearing
+      that it was Margaret dressed in her lady&rsquo;s clothes that he had
+      talked with from the window, whom they had mistaken for the lady Hero
+      herself. and no doubt continued on the minds of Claudio and the prince of
+      the innocence of Hero. If a suspicion had remained it must have been
+      removed by the flight of Don John, who, finding his villainies were
+      detected, fled from Messina to avoid the just anger of his brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found he bad falsely
+      accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon bearing his cruel words; and the
+      memory of his beloved Hero&rsquo;s image came over him in the rare
+      semblance that he loved it first; and the prince, asking him if what he
+      heard did not run like iron through his soul, he answered that he felt as
+      if he had taken poison while Borachio was speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the repentant Claudio implored forgiveness of the old man Leonato for
+      the injury he had done his child; and promised that, whatever penance
+      Leonato would lay upon him for his fault in believing the false accusation
+      against his betrothed wife, for her dear sake he would endure it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The penance Leonato enjoined him was to marry the next morning a cousin of
+      Hero&rsquo;s, who, he said, was now his heir, and in person very like
+      Hero. Claudio, regarding the solemn promise he made to Leonato, said he
+      would marry this unknown lady, even though she were an Ethiop. But his
+      heart was very sorrowful, and he passed that night in tears and in
+      remorseful grief at the tomb which Leonato had erected for Hero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the morning came the prince accompanied Claudio to the church, where
+      the good friar and Leonato and his niece were already assembled, to
+      celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato presented to Claudio his promised
+      bride. And she wore a mask, that Claudio might not discover her face. And
+      Claudio said to the lady in the mask:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, before this holy friar. I am your husband, if
+      you will marry me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when I lived I was your other wife,&rdquo; said this unknown
+      lady; and, taking off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was
+      pretended), but Leonato&rsquo;s very daughter, the lady Hero herself. We
+      may be sure that this proved a most agreeable surprise to Claudio, who
+      thought her dead, so that be could scarcely for joy believe his eyes; and
+      the prince, who was equally amazed at what he saw, exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not this Hero, Hero that was dead?&rdquo;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonato replied, &ldquo;She died, my lord, but while her slander lived.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle, after the
+      ceremony was ended, and was proceeding to marry them when he was
+      interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at the same time to
+      Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this match, and Benedick
+      challenging her with her love for him, which he had learned from Hero, a
+      pleasant explanation took place; and they found they had both been tricked
+      into a belief of love, which had never existed, and had become lovers in
+      truth by the power of a false jest. But the affection which a merry
+      invention had cheated them into was grown too powerful to be shaken by a
+      serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry, he was resolved
+      to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say against it; and
+      he merrily kept up the jest and swore to Beatrice that he took her but for
+      pity, and because he heard she was dying of love for him; and Beatrice
+      protested that she yielded but upon great persuasion, and partly to save
+      his life, for she heard he was in a consumption. So these two mad wits
+      were reconciled and made a match of it, after Claudio and Hero were
+      married; and to complete the history, Don John, the contriver of the
+      villainy, was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina; and a
+      @@brave punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented man to see the joy
+      and feastings which, by the disappointment of his plots, took place in the
+      palace in Messina.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>AS YOU LIKE IT</h2>
+    <p>
+      During the time that France was divided into provinces (or dukedoms, as
+      they were called) there reigned in one of these provinces a usurper who
+      had deposed and banished his elder brother, the lawful duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke who was thus driven from his dominions retired with a few
+      faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good duke lived
+      with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a voluntary exile for
+      his sake, while their land and revenues enriched the false usurper; and
+      custom soon made the life of careless ease they led here more sweet to
+      them than the pomp and uneasy splendor of a courtier&rsquo;s life. Here
+      they lived like the old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many
+      noble youths daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time
+      carelessly, as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they
+      lay along under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the
+      playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these poor
+      dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of the forest, that
+      it grieved them to be forced to kill them to supply themselves with
+      venison for their food. When the cold winds of winter made the duke feel
+      the change of his adverse fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true counselors;
+      they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my condition; and though
+      they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing like so keen as that of
+      unkindness and ingratitude. I find that howsoever men speak against
+      adversity, yet some sweet uses are to be extracted from it; like the
+      jewel, precious for medicine, which is taken from the head of the venomous
+      and despised toad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from everything
+      that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn, in that life of his,
+      remote from public haunts, he could find tongues in trees, books in the
+      running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the usurper,
+      Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still retained in his court
+      as a companion for his own daughter, Celia. A strict friendship subsisted
+      between these ladies, which the disagreement between their fathers did not
+      in the least interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her power to
+      make amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father in deposing
+      the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her father&rsquo;s
+      banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper, made Rosalind
+      melancholy, Celia&rsquo;s whole care was to comfort and console her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to Rosalind,
+      saying, &ldquo;I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be merry,&rdquo; a
+      messenger entered from the duke, to tell them that if they wished to see a
+      wrestling-match, which was just going to begin, they must come instantly
+      to the court before the palace; and Celia, thinking it would amuse
+      Rosalind, agreed to go and see it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In those times wrestling, which is only practised now by country clowns,
+      was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and before fair ladies
+      and princesses. To this wrestling-match, therefore, Celia and Rosalind
+      went. They found that it was likely to prove a very tragical sight; for a
+      large and powerful man, who had been long practised in the art of
+      wrestling and had slain many men in contests of this kind, was just going
+      to wrestle with a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and
+      inexperience in the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be
+      killed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind he said: &ldquo;How now, daughter and
+      niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will take little
+      delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity to this young man, I
+      would wish to persuade him from wrestling. Speak to him, ladies, and see
+      if you can move him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and first
+      Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist from the attempt;
+      and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and with such feeling
+      consideration for the danger he was about to undergo, that, instead of
+      being persuaded by her gentle words to forego his purpose, all his
+      thoughts were bent to distinguish himself by his courage in this lovely
+      lady&rsquo;s eyes. He refused the request of Celia and Rosalind in such
+      graceful and modest words that they felt still more concern for him; he
+      concluded his refusal with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry to deny such fair and excellent ladies anything. But let
+      your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial, wherein if I be
+      conquered there is one shamed that was never gracious; if I am killed,
+      there is one dead that is willing to die. I shall do my friends no wrong,
+      for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have
+      nothing; for I only fill up a place in the world which may be better
+      supplied when I have made it empty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the wrestling-match began. Celia wished the young stranger might
+      not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The friendless state which he
+      said he was in, and that he wished to die, made Rosalind think that he
+      was, like herself, unfortunate; and she pitied him so much, and so deep an
+      interest she took in his danger while he was wrestling, that she might
+      almost be said at that moment to have fallen in love with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble ladies gave
+      him courage and strength, so that he performed wonders; and in the end
+      completely conquered his antagonist, who was so much hurt that for a while
+      he was unable to speak or move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill shown by
+      this young stranger; and desired to know his name and parentage, meaning
+      to take him under his protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the youngest son
+      of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some years; but
+      when he was living he had been a true subject and dear friend of the
+      banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard Orlando was the son of his
+      banished brother&rsquo;s friend, all his liking for this brave young man
+      was changed into displeasure and he left the place in very ill humor.
+      Hating to bear the very name of any of his brother&rsquo;s friends, and
+      yet still admiring the valor of the youth, he said, as he went out, that
+      he wished Orlando had been the son of any other man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son of her
+      father&rsquo;s old friend; and she said to Celia, &ldquo;My father loved
+      Sir Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was his son I would
+      have added tears to my entreaties before he should have ventured.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies then went up to him and, seeing him abashed by the sudden
+      displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and encouraging words to
+      him; and Rosalind, when they were going away, turned back to speak some
+      more civil things to the brave young son of her father&rsquo;s old friend,
+      and taking a chain from off her neck, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentleman, wear this for me. I am out of suits with fortune, or I
+      would give you a more valuable present.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the ladies were alone, Rosalind&rsquo;s talk being still of Orlando,
+      Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love with the handsome
+      young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible you should fall in love so suddenly?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rosalind replied, &ldquo;The duke, my father, loved his father dearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Celia, &ldquo;does it therefore follow that you
+      should love his son dearly?. For then I ought to hate him, for my father
+      hated his father; yet do not hate Orlando.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick, being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys&rsquo;s son,
+      which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had among the
+      nobility, and having been for some time displeased with his niece because
+      the people praised her for her virtues and pitied her for her good father&rsquo;s
+      sake, his malice suddenly broke out against her; and while Celia and
+      Rosalind were talking of Orlando, Frederick entered the room and with
+      looks full of anger ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the palace and
+      follow her father into banishment, telling Celia, who in vain pleaded for
+      her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not then,&rdquo; said Celia, &ldquo;entreat you to let her
+      stay, for I was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know
+      her worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the same
+      instant, learned, played, and eat together, I cannot live out of her
+      company.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick replied: &ldquo;She is too subtle for you; her smoothness, her
+      very silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they pity her. You
+      are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more bright and virtuous
+      when she is gone; therefore open not your lips in her favor, for the doom
+      which I have passed upon her is irrevocable.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let Rosalind
+      remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany her; and, leaving
+      her father&rsquo;s palace that night, she went along with her friend to
+      seek Rosalind&rsquo;s father, the banished duke, in the forest of Arden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before they set out Celia considered that it would be unsafe for two young
+      ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore; she therefore
+      proposed that they should disguise their rank by dressing themselves like
+      country maids. Rosalind said it would be a still greater protection if one
+      of them was to be dressed like a man. And so it was quickly agreed on
+      between them that, as Rosalind was the tallest, she should wear the dress
+      of a young countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass,
+      and that they should say they were brother and sister; and Rosalind said
+      she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of Aliena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray their
+      expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long travel; for the
+      forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the boundaries of the duke&rsquo;s
+      dominions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede, as she must now be called) with her manly
+      garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The faithful friendship Celia
+      had shown in accompanying Rosalind so many weary miles made the new
+      brother, in recompense for this true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as if
+      he were indeed Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the
+      gentle village maiden, Aliena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When at last they came to the forest of Arden they no longer found the
+      convenient inns and good accommodations they had met with on the road,
+      and, being in want of food and rest, Ganymede, who had so merrily cheered
+      his sister with pleasant speeches and happy remarks all the way, now owned
+      to Aliena that he was so weary he could find in his heart to disgrace his
+      man&rsquo;s apparel and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could go
+      no farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect that it was a man&rsquo;s
+      duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel; and to seem
+      courageous to his new sister, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, have a good heart, my sister Aliena. We are now at the end of
+      our travel, in the forest of Arden.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But feigned manliness and forced courage would no longer support them;
+      for, though they were in the forest of Arden, they knew not where to find
+      the duke. And here the travel of these weary ladies might have come to a
+      sad conclusion, for they might have lost themselves and perished for want
+      of food, but, providentially, as they were sitting on the grass, almost
+      dying with fatigue and hopeless of any relief, a countryman chanced to
+      pass that way, and Ganymede once more tried to speak with a manly
+      boldness, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shepherd, if love or gold can in this desert place procure us
+      entertainment, I pray you bring us where we may rest ourselves; for this
+      young maid, my sister, is much fatigued with traveling, and faints for
+      want of food.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and that his
+      master&rsquo;s house was just going to be sold, and therefore they would
+      find but poor entertainment; but that if they would go with him they
+      should be welcome to what there was. They followed the man, the near
+      prospect of relief giving them fresh strength, and bought the house and
+      sheep of the shepherd, and took the man who conducted them to the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      house to wait on them; and being by this means so fortunately provided
+      with a neat cottage, and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to
+      stay here till they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they began to
+      like their new way of life, and almost fancied themselves the shepherd and
+      shepherdess they feigned to be. Yet sometimes Ganymede remembered be had
+      once been the same Lady Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave Orlando
+      because be was the son of old Sir Rowland, her father&rsquo;s friend; and
+      though Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so many
+      weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that Orlando was
+      also in the forest of Arden. And in this manner this strange event came to
+      pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he died,
+      left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his eldest
+      brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give his brother a
+      good education and provide for him as became the dignity of their ancient
+      house. Oliver proved an unworthy brother, and, disregarding the commands
+      of his dying father, he never put his brother to school, but kept him at
+      home untaught and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the noble
+      qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent father that,
+      without any advantages of education, he seemed like a youth who had been
+      bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so envied the fine person and
+      dignified manners of his untutored brother that at last he wished to
+      destroy him, and to effect this be set on people to persuade him to
+      wrestle with the famous wrestler who, as has been before related, had
+      killed so many men. Now it was this cruel brother&rsquo;s neglect of him
+      which made Orlando say he wished to die, being so friendless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother proved
+      victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he swore he would burn
+      the chamber where Orlando slept. He was overheard making his vow by one
+      that had been an old and faithful servant to their father, and that loved
+      Orlando because he resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went out to meet
+      him when he returned from the duke&rsquo;s palace, and when he saw Orlando
+      the peril his dear young master was in made him break out into these
+      passionate exclamations:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my gentle master, my sweet master! O you memory of Old Sir
+      Rowland! Why are you virtuous? Why are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
+      And why would you be so fond to overcome the famous wrestler? Your praise
+      is come too swiftly home before you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the matter. And
+      then the old man told him how his wicked brother, envying the love all
+      people bore him, and now hearing the fame he had gained by his victory in
+      the duke&rsquo;s palace, intended to destroy him by setting fire to his
+      chamber that night, and in conclusion advised him to escape the danger he
+      was in by instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that
+      was the good old man&rsquo;s name) had brought out with him his own little
+      hoard, and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under your
+      father and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs should become
+      unfit for service. Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed be comfort
+      to my age! Here is the gold. All this I give to you. Let me be your
+      servant; though I look old I will do the service of a younger man in all
+      your business and necessities.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O good old man!&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;how well appears in you
+      the constant service of the old world! You are not for the fashion of
+      these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful wages are
+      spent I shall light upon some means for both our maintenance.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Together, then, this faithful servant and his loved master set out; and
+      Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to pursue, till they
+      came to the forest of Arden, and there they found themselves in the same
+      distress for want of food that Ganymede and Aliena had been. They wandered
+      on, seeking some human habitation, till they were almost spent with hunger
+      and fatigue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adam at last said: &ldquo;O my dear master, I die for want of food. I can
+      go no farther!&rdquo; He then laid himself down, thinking to make that
+      place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up in his
+      arms and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant trees; and he said
+      to him: &ldquo;Cheerly, old Adam. Rest your weary limbs here awhile, and
+      do not talk of dying!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to arrive
+      at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and his friends were
+      just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke being seated on the grass,
+      under no other canopy than the shady covert of some large trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword, intending to take
+      their meat by force, and said: &ldquo;Forbear and eat no more. I must have
+      your food!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold or if he were a rude
+      despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he was dying with hunger;
+      and then the duke told him he was welcome to sit down and eat with them.
+      Orlando, hearing him speak so gently, put up his sword and blushed with
+      shame at the rude manner in which he had demanded their food.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, I pray you,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I thought that all
+      things had been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of
+      stern command; but whatever men you are that in this desert, under the
+      shade of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours of time,
+      if ever you have looked on better days, if ever you have been where bells
+      have knolled to church, if you have ever sat at any good man&rsquo;s
+      feast, if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a tear and know what it is
+      to pity or be pitied, may gentle speeches now move you to do me human
+      courtesy!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;True it is that we are men (as you say) who have
+      seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in this wild
+      forest, we have lived in towns and cities and have with holy bell been
+      knolled to church, have sat at good men&rsquo;s feasts, and from our eyes
+      have wiped the drops which sacred pity has engendered; therefore sit you
+      down and take of our refreshment as much as will minister to your wants.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is an old poor man,&rdquo; answered Orlando, &ldquo;who has
+      limped after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with two
+      sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied I must not touch a
+      bit.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, find him out and bring him hither,&rdquo; said the duke.
+      &ldquo;We will forbear to eat till you return.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food; and
+      presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the duke said, &ldquo;Set down your venerable burthen; you are both
+      welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived and
+      recovered his health and strength again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was the son
+      of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, be took him under his protection,
+      and Orlando and his old servant lived with the duke in the forest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and Aliena came
+      there and (as has been before related) bought the shepherd&rsquo;s
+      cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of Rosalind
+      carved on the trees, and love-sonnets fastened to them, all addressed to
+      Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this could be they met Orlando
+      and they perceived the chain which Rosalind had given him about his neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess Rosalind who,
+      by her noble condescension and favor, had so won his heart that he passed
+      his whole time in carving her name upon the trees and writing sonnets in
+      praise of her beauty; but being much pleased with the graceful air of this
+      pretty shepherd-youth, he entered into conversation with him, and be
+      thought he saw a likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that he
+      had none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede
+      assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are between
+      boys and men, -and with much archness and humor talked to Orlando of a
+      certain lover, &ldquo;who,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;haunts our forest, and
+      spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their barks; and he
+      hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles, all praising this same
+      Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I would give him some good counsel
+      that would soon cure him of his love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke,, and asked
+      Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked Of. The remedy Ganymede
+      proposed, and the counsel he gave him was that Orlando should come every
+      day to the cottage where he and his sister Aliena dwelt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then,&rdquo; said Ganymede, &ldquo;I will feign myself to be
+      Rosalind, and you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would
+      do if I was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways of
+      whimsical ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of your love;
+      and this is the way I propose to cure you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come every day
+      to Ganymede&rsquo;s cottage and feign a playful courtship; and every day
+      Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando called the shepherd
+      Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked over all the fine words and
+      flattering compliments which young men delight to use when they court
+      their mistresses. It does not appear, however, that Ganymede made any
+      progress in curing Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not dreaming that
+      Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the opportunity it gave him of saying
+      all the fond things he had in his heart pleased his fancy almost as well
+      as it did Ganymede&rsquo;s, who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing these
+      fine love-speeches were all addressed to the right person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young people; and
+      the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede happy, let him have his
+      own way and was diverted at the mock-courtship, and did not care to remind
+      Ganymede that the Lady Rosalind had not yet made herself known to the duke
+      her father, whose place of resort in the forest they had learned from
+      Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with him, and
+      the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede answered that he came
+      of as good parentage as he did, which made the duke smile, for he did not
+      suspect the pretty shepherd-boy came of royal lineage. Then seeing the
+      duke look well and happy, Ganymede was content to put off all further
+      explanation for a few days longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man lying
+      asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted itself about his
+      neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided away among the bushes.
+      Orlando went nearer, and then he discovered a lioness lie crouching, with
+      her head on the ground, with a catlike watch, waiting until the sleeping
+      man awaked (for it is said that lions will prey on nothing that is dead or
+      sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by Providence to free the man
+      from the danger of the snake and lioness; but when Orlando looked in the
+      man&rsquo;s face he perceived that the sleeper who was exposed to this
+      double peril was his own brother Oliver, who had so cruelly used him and
+      had threatened to destroy him by fire, and he was almost tempted to leave
+      him a prey to the hungry lioness; but brotherly affection and the
+      gentleness of his nature soon overcame his first anger against his
+      brother; and he drew his sword and attacked the lioness and slew her, and
+      thus preserved his brother&rsquo;s life both from the venomous snake and
+      from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the lioness she
+      had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and, perceiving
+      that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly treated, was saving him
+      from the fury of a wild beast at the risk of his own life, shame and
+      remorse at once seized him, and he repented of his unworthy conduct and
+      besought with many tears his brother&rsquo;s pardon for the injuries he
+      had done him. Orlando rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave
+      him. They embraced each other and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando with
+      a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent on his
+      destruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wound in Orlando&rsquo;s arm having bled very much, he found himself
+      too weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he desired his brother to
+      go and tell Ganymede, &ldquo;whom,&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;I in sport
+      do call my Rosalind,&rdquo; the accident which had befallen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how Orlando had
+      saved his life; and when he had finished the story of Orlando&rsquo;s
+      bravery and his own providential escape he owned to them that he was
+      Orlando&rsquo;s brother who had so cruelly used him; and then be told them
+      of their reconciliation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made such a
+      lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena that she instantly fell in
+      love with him; and Oliver observing how much she pitied the distress he
+      told her he felt for his fault, he as suddenly fell in love with her. But
+      while love was thus stealing into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, he was
+      no less busy with Ganymede, who, hearing of the danger Orlando had been
+      in, and that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when he recovered
+      he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the imaginary
+      character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he did really faint,
+      and, much wondering at the weakness of the young man, he said, &ldquo;Well,
+      if you did counterfeit, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I do,&rdquo; replied Ganymede, truly, &ldquo;but I should have
+      been a woman by right.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he returned back
+      to his brother he had much news to tell him; for, besides the account of
+      Ganymede&rsquo;s fainting at the hearing that Orlando was wounded, Oliver
+      told him how he had fallen in love with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and
+      that she had lent a favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first
+      interview; and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled,
+      that he should marry Aliena, saying that he so well loved her that he
+      would live here as a shepherd and settle his estate and house at home upon
+      Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have my consent,&rdquo; said Orlando. &ldquo;Let your wedding
+      be to-morrow, and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go and persuade
+      your shepherdess to agree to this. She is now alone, for, look, here comes
+      her brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oliver went to Aliena, and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived
+      approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love which had
+      taken place between Oliver and. Aliena, Orlando said be had advised his
+      brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be married on the morrow, and
+      then he added how much he could wish to be married on the same day to his
+      Rosalind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if Orlando
+      really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he should have his
+      wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make Rosalind appear in her own
+      person, and also that Rosalind should be willing to marry Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the Lady Rosalind,
+      he could so easily perform, be pretended he would bring to pass by the aid
+      of magic, which he said he had learned of an uncle who was a famous
+      magician.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he heard,
+      asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By my life I do,&rdquo; said Ganymede. &ldquo;Therefore put on your
+      best clothes, and bid the duke and your friends to your wedding, for if
+      you desire to be married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena, they came
+      into the presence of the duke, and with them also came Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and as yet
+      only one of the brides appearing, there was much of wondering and
+      conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede was making a jest of
+      Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be brought in
+      this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the shepherd-boy could
+      really do what he had promised; and while Orlando was answering that he
+      knew not what to think, Ganymede entered and asked the duke, if he brought
+      his daughter, whether he would consent to her marriage with Orlando.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I would,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;if I had kingdoms to
+      give with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede then said to Orlando, &ldquo;And you say you will marry her if I
+      bring her here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I would,&rdquo; said Orlando, &ldquo;if I were king of many
+      kingdoms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and, Ganymede throwing off his
+      male attire, and being once more dressed in woman&rsquo;s apparel, quickly
+      became Rosalind without the power of magic; and Aliena, changing her
+      country garb for her own rich clothes, was with as little trouble
+      transformed into the lady Celia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando that he thought the
+      shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and Orlando said he
+      also had observed the resemblance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind and Celia,
+      in their own clothes, entered, and, no longer pretending that it was by
+      the power of magic that she came there, Rosalind threw herself on her
+      knees before her father and begged his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to
+      all present that she should so suddenly appear, that it might well have
+      passed for magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and
+      told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the forest as
+      a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the marriage; and
+      Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were married at the same time. And
+      though their wedding could not be celebrated in this wild forest with any
+      of the parade of splendor usual on such occasions, yet a happier
+      wedding-day was never passed. And while they were eating their venison
+      under the cool shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be
+      wanting to complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, an
+      unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news that his
+      dukedom was restored to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and hearing that
+      every day men of great worth resorted to the forest of Arden to join the
+      lawful duke in his exile, much envying that his brother should be so
+      highly respected in his adversity, put himself at the head of a large
+      force and advanced toward the forest, intending to seize his brother and
+      put him with all his faithful followers to the sword; but by a wonderful
+      interposition of Providence this bad brother was converted from his evil
+      intention, for just as he entered the skirts of the wild forest he was met
+      by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had much talk and who in
+      the end completely turned his heart from his wicked design. Thenceforward
+      he became a true penitent, and resolved, relinquishing his unjust
+      dominion, to spend the remainder of his days in a religious house. The
+      first act of his newly conceived penitence was to send a messenger to his
+      brother (as has been related) to offer to restore to him his dukedom,
+      which be had usurped so long, and with it the lands and revenues of his
+      friends, the faithful followers of his adversity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came opportunely to
+      heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the wedding of the princesses.
+      Celia complimented her cousin on this good, fortune which had happened to
+      the duke, Rosalind&rsquo;s father, and wished her joy very sincerely,
+      though she herself was no longer heir to the dukedom, but by this
+      restoration which her father had made, Rosalind was now the heir, so
+      completely was the love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of
+      jealousy or of envy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends who had
+      stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy followers, though they
+      had patiently shared his adverse fortune, were very well pleased to return
+      in peace and prosperity, to the palace of their lawful duke.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA</h2>
+    <p>
+      There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose names were
+      Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and uninterrupted friendship
+      had long subsisted. They pursued their studies together, and their hours
+      of leisure were always passed in each other&rsquo;s company, except when
+      Proteus visited a lady he was in love with. And these visits to his
+      mistress,, and this passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only
+      topics on which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
+      himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his friend
+      forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at Proteus, and in
+      pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and declare that no such idle
+      fancies should ever enter his head, greatly preferring (as he said) the
+      free and happy life he led to the anxious hopes and fears of the lover
+      Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must for a
+      time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus, unwilling to
+      part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail upon Valentine not to
+      leave him. But Valentine said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
+      sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping youths have
+      ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained to the sweet glances
+      of your honored Julia, I would entreat you to accompany me, to see the
+      wonders of the world abroad; but since you are a lover, love on still, and
+      may your love be prosperous!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet Valentine, adieu!&rdquo; said Proteus. &ldquo;Think on me
+      when you see some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish
+      me partaker of your happiness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when his
+      friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to Julia, which he
+      gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of a noble
+      spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden dignity too easily to
+      be won; therefore she affected to be insensible of his passion and gave
+      him much uneasiness in the prosecution of his suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not receive it,
+      and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus, and ordered her to
+      leave the room. But she so much wished to see what was written in the
+      letter that she soon called in her maid again; and when Lucetta returned
+      she said, &ldquo;What o&rsquo;clock is it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter than to know
+      the time of day, without answering her question again offered the rejected
+      letter. Julia, angry that her maid should thus take the liberty of seeming
+      to know what she really wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on
+      the floor,, ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
+      retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn letter; but
+      Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in pretended anger,
+      &ldquo;Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you would be fingering
+      them to anger me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
+      fragments. She first made out these words, &ldquo;Love-wounded Proteus&rdquo;;
+      and lamenting over these and such like loving words, which she made out
+      though they were all torn asunder, or, she said WOUNDED (the expression
+      &ldquo;Love-wounded Proteus&rdquo; giving her that idea), she talked to
+      these kind words, telling them she would lodge them in her bosom as in a
+      bed, till their wounds were healed, and that she would kiss each several
+      piece to make amends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike childishness,
+      till, finding herself unable to make out the whole, and vexed at her own
+      ingratitude in destroying such sweet and loving words, as she called them,
+      she wrote a much kinder letter to Proteus than she had ever done before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer to his
+      letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, &ldquo;Sweet love! sweet
+      lines! sweet life!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father. &ldquo;How
+      now?&rdquo; said the old gentleman. &ldquo;What letter are you reading
+      there?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; replied Proteus, &ldquo;it is a letter from my
+      friend Valentine, at Milan.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lend me the letter,&rdquo; said his father. &ldquo;Let me see what
+      news.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no news, my lord,&rdquo; said Proteus, greatly alarmed,
+      &ldquo;but that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
+      daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the partner
+      of his fortune.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how stand you affected to his wish?&rdquo; asked the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As one relying on your lordship&rsquo;s will and not depending on
+      his friendly wish,&rdquo; said Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now it had happened that Proteus&rsquo;s father had just been talking with
+      a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he wondered his
+      lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home while most men were
+      sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;to the wars, to try their fortunes
+      there, and some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
+      universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to the Duke
+      of Milan&rsquo;s court. Your son is fit for any of these things, and it
+      will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper age not to have traveled
+      in his youth.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus&rsquo;s father thought the advice of his friend was very good, and
+      upon Proteus telling him that Valentine &ldquo;wished him with him, the
+      partner of his fortune,&rdquo; he at once determined to send his son to
+      Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this sudden resolution,
+      it being the usual habit of this positive old gentleman to command his
+      son, not reason with him, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My will is the same as Valentine&rsquo;s wish.&rdquo; And seeing
+      his son look astonished, he added: &ldquo;Look not amazed, that I so
+      suddenly resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan&rsquo;s
+      court; for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
+      readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father, who never
+      suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself for telling his
+      father an untruth about Julia&rsquo;s letter, which had brought upon him
+      the sad necessity of leaving her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a time she
+      no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each other a mournful
+      farewell, with many vows of love and constancy. Proteus and Julia
+      exchanged rings, which they both promised to keep forever in remembrance
+      of each other; and thus, taking a sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his
+      journey to Milan, the abode of his friend Valentine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father, in high
+      favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had happened to him of
+      which Proteus did not even dream, for Valentine had given up the freedom
+      of which he used so much to boast, and was become as passionate a lover as
+      Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the Lady Silvia,
+      daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved him; but they concealed
+      their love from the duke, because, although he showed much kindness for
+      Valentine and invited him every day to his palace, yet he designed to
+      marry his daughter to a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia
+      despised this Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent
+      qualities of Valentine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit to Silvia,
+      and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning everything Thurio said
+      into ridicule, when the duke himself entered the room and told Valentine
+      the welcome news of his friend Proteus&rsquo;s arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine said, &ldquo;If I had wished a thing, it would have been to have
+      seen him here!&rdquo; And then he highly praised Proteus to the duke,
+      saying, &ldquo;My lord, though I have been a truant of my time, yet hath
+      my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and is complete in
+      person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a gentleman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Welcome him, then, according to his worth,&rdquo; said the duke.
+      &ldquo;Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I need
+      not bid him do so.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and Valentine
+      introduced him to Silvia, saying, &ldquo;Sweet lady, entertain him to be
+      my fellow-servant to your ladyship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone together,
+      Valentine said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your lady,
+      and how thrives your love?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus replied: &ldquo;My tales of love used to weary you. I know you joy
+      not in a love discourse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, Proteus,&rdquo; returned Valentine, &ldquo;but that life is
+      altered now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of my
+      contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled eyes. O gentle
+      Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so humbled me that I confess
+      there is no woe like his correction nor no such joy on earth as in his
+      service. I now like no discourse except it be of love. Now I can break my
+      fast, dine, sup, and sleep upon the very name of love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the disposition
+      of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend Proteus. But &ldquo;friend&rdquo;
+      Proteus must be called no longer, for the same all-powerful deity Love, of
+      whom they were speaking (yea, even while they were talking of the change
+      he had made in Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he,
+      who had till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect friendship,
+      was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a false friend and a
+      faithless lover; for at the first sight of Silvia all his love for Julia
+      vanished away like a dream, nor did his long friendship for Valentine
+      deter him from endeavoring to supplant him in her affections; and
+      although, as it will always be, when people of dispositions naturally good
+      become unjust, be bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia
+      and become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his sense of
+      duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to his new unhappy
+      passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his love, and
+      how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her father, and told him
+      that, despairing of ever being able to obtain his consent, he had
+      prevailed upon Silvia to leave her father&rsquo;s palace that night and go
+      with him to Mantua; then he showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of
+      which he meant to assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the
+      palace after it was dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend&rsquo;s dearest secrets,
+      it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that Proteus resolved
+      to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the duke,
+      such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal what he was
+      going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke had shown him, and
+      the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell that which else no worldly
+      good should draw from him. He then told all he had heard from Valentine,
+      not omitting the ladder of ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant
+      to conceal them under a long cloak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
+      preferred telling his friend&rsquo;s intention rather than he would
+      conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him not to
+      let Valentine know from whom he had learned this intelligence, but by some
+      artifice to make Valentine betray the secret himself. For this purpose the
+      duke awaited the coming of Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw
+      hurrying toward the palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within
+      his cloak, which he concluded was the rope ladder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, &ldquo;Whither away so fast,
+      Valentine?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May it please your grace,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;there is a
+      messenger that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
+      deliver them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now this falsehood of Valentine&rsquo;s had no better success in the event
+      than the untruth Proteus told his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be they of much import?&rdquo; said the duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more, my lord,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;than to tell my
+      father I am well and happy at your grace&rsquo;s court.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay then,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;no matter; stay with me
+      awhile. I wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his secret
+      from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match his daughter with
+      Thurio, but that she was stubborn and disobedient to his commands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither regarding,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that she is my child nor
+      fearing me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
+      hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have been
+      cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a wife, and
+      turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her beauty be her wedding
+      dower, for me and my possessions she esteems not.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, &ldquo;And
+      what would your grace have me to do in all this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;the lady I would wish to marry is
+      nice and coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
+      fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I would
+      willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am to woo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then practised
+      by young men when they wished to win a fair lady&rsquo;s love, such as
+      presents, frequent visits, and the like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which he sent
+      her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that no man might
+      have access to her by day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; said Valentine, &ldquo;you must visit her by
+      night.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But at night,&rdquo; said the artful duke, who was now coming to
+      the drift of his discourse, &ldquo;her doors are fast locked.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get into the
+      lady&rsquo;s chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,, saying he
+      would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in conclusion advised
+      him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such a cloak as that which he
+      now wore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lend me your cloak,&rdquo; said the duke, who had feigned this long
+      story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon saying
+      these words he caught hold of Valentine&rsquo;s cloak and, throwing it
+      back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but also a letter of
+      Silvia&rsquo;s, which he instantly opened and read; and this letter
+      contained a full account of their intended elopement. The duke, after
+      upbraiding Valentine for his ingratitude in thus returning the favor he
+      had shown him, by endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him
+      from the court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
+      depart that night without even seeing Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at Verona was
+      regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for him at last so far
+      overcame her sense of propriety that she resolved to leave Verona and seek
+      her lover at Milan; and to secure herself from danger on the road she
+      dressed her maiden Lucetta and herself in men&rsquo;s clothes,-. and they
+      set out in this disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was
+      banished from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an inn; and,
+      her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered into conversation
+      with the innkeeper&mdash;or host, as he was called&mdash;thinking by that
+      means to learn some news of Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman (as he
+      took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was of high rank,
+      spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a good-natured man, he was sorry to
+      see him look so melancholy; and to amuse his young guest he offered to
+      take him to hear some fine music, with which, he said, a gentleman that
+      evening was going to serenade his mistress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not well know
+      what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had taken, for she knew
+      he had loved her for her noble maiden pride and dignity of character, and
+      she feared she should lower herself in his esteem; and this it was that
+      made her wear a sad and thoughtful countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear the
+      music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
+      different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for there,
+      to her heart&rsquo;s sorrow, she beheld her lover, the inconstant Proteus,
+      serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and addressing discourse of love
+      and admiration to her. And Julia overheard Silvia from a window talk with
+      Proteus, and reproach him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his
+      ingratitude his friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not
+      choosing to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
+      faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the ungenerous
+      conduct of his false friend, Proteus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet did she
+      still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had lately parted with
+      a servant, she contrived, with the assistance of her host, the friendly
+      innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus as a page; and Proteus knew not she
+      was Julia, and he sent her with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia,
+      and he even sent by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at
+      Verona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to find that
+      Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and Julia&mdash;or the page
+      Sebastian, as she was called, entered into conversation with Silvia about
+      Proteus&rsquo;s first love, the forsaken Lady Julia. She putting in (as
+      one may say) a good word for herself, said she knew Julia; as well she
+      might, being herself the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia
+      loved her master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her.
+      And then she with a pretty equivocation went on: &ldquo;Julia is about my
+      height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the same as
+      mine.&rdquo; And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in her boy&rsquo;s
+      attire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly forsaken by the
+      man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring which Proteus had sent,
+      refused it, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not take
+      it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him. I love thee,
+      gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a purse; I give it you
+      for Julia&rsquo;s sake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These comfortable words coming from her kind rival&rsquo;s tongue cheered
+      the drooping heart of the disguised lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which way to bend
+      his course, being unwilling to return home to his father a disgraced and
+      banished man. As he was wandering over a lonely forest, not far distant
+      from Milan, where he had left his heart&rsquo;s dear treasure, the Lady
+      Silvia, he was set upon by robbers, who demanded his money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that be was
+      going into banishment, and that he had no money, the clothes he had on
+      being all his riches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being struck with
+      his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he would live with them and
+      be their chief, or captain, they would put themselves under his command;
+      but that if he refused to accept their offer they would kill him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would consent
+      to live with them and be their captain, provided they did no outrage on
+      women or poor passengers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read in
+      ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in this situation
+      he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came to pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted upon her
+      no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of following Valentine
+      to Mantua, at which place she had heard her lover had taken refuge; but in
+      this account she was misinformed, for he still lived in the forest among
+      the robbers, hearing the name of their captain, but taking no part in
+      their depredations, and using the authority which they had imposed upon
+      him in no other way than to compel them to show compassion to the
+      travelers they robbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father&rsquo;s palace in
+      company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom she took
+      along with her for protection on the road. She had to pass through the
+      forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt; and one of these robbers
+      seized on Silvia, and would also have taken Eglamour, but he escaped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in, bade her
+      not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her to a cave where
+      his captain lived, and that she need not be afraid, for their captain had
+      an honorable mind and always showed humanity to women. Silvia found little
+      comfort in hearing she was going to be carried as a prisoner before the
+      captain of a lawless banditti.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Valentine,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;this I endure for thee!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he was
+      stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the disguise of a
+      page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had traced her steps to this
+      forest. Proteus now rescued her from the hands the robber; but scarce had
+      she time to thank him for the service he had done her before be began to
+      distress her afresh with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing
+      her to consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was standing
+      beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the great service which
+      Proteus had just done to Silvia should win her to show him some favor,
+      they were all strangely surprised with the sudden appearance of Valentine,
+      who, having heard his robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console
+      and relieve her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being caught by
+      his friend that he was all at once seized with penitence and remorse; and
+      he expressed such a lively sorrow for the injuries he had done to
+      Valentine that Valentine, whose nature was noble and generous, even to a
+      romantic degree, not only forgave and restored him to his former place in
+      his friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
+      give it up to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this strange
+      offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this new-found virtue to
+      refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all employed in recovering her, else
+      would Silvia have been offended at being thus made over to Proteus, though
+      she could scarcely think that Valentine would long persevere in this
+      overstrained and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from
+      the fainting fit, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to Silvia.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave to Julia
+      in return for that which he received from her and which he had sent by the
+      supposed page to Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is this?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;This is Julia&rsquo;s ring. How
+      came you by it, boy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Julia answered, &ldquo;Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
+      hath brought it hither.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that the page
+      Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and the proof she had
+      given of her constancy and true love so wrought in him that his love for
+      her returned into his heart, and he took again his own dear lady and
+      joyfully resigned all pretensions to the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had
+      so well deserved her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
+      reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when they were
+      surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and Thurio, who came there
+      in pursuit of Silvia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying, &ldquo;Silvia
+      is mine.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner: &ldquo;Thurio,
+      keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours, you shall embrace
+      your death. Here she stands, take but possession of her with a touch! I
+      dare you but to breathe upon my love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back, and said
+      he cared not for her and that none but a fool would fight for a girl who
+      loved him not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great anger,
+      &ldquo;The more base and degenerate in you to take such means for her as
+      you have done and leave her on such slight conditions.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then turning to Valentine he said: &ldquo;I do applaud your spirit,
+      Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress&rsquo;s love. You shall have
+      Silvia, for you have well deserved her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke&rsquo;s hand and
+      accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter with
+      becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute to entreat
+      the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom he had associated in
+      the forest, assuring him that when reformed and restored to society there
+      would be found among them many good, and fit for great employment; for the
+      most of them had been banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather
+      than for any black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the&rsquo;
+      ready duke consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
+      friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted faults, to
+      be present at the recital of the whole story of his loves and falsehoods
+      before the duke. And the shame of the recital to his awakened conscience
+      was judged sufficient punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four,
+      returned back to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence
+      of the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>THE MERCHANT OF VENICE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, the Jew, lived at Venice. He was a usurer who had amassed an
+      immense fortune by lending money at great interest to Christian merchants.
+      Shylock, being a hard-hearted man, exacted the payment of the money he
+      lent with such severity that he was much disliked by all good men, and
+      particularly by Antonio, a young merchant of Venice; and Shylock as much
+      hated Antonio, because he used to lend money to people in distress, and
+      would never take any interest for the money he lent; therefore there was
+      great enmity between this covetous Jew and the generous merchant Antonio.
+      Whenever Antonio met Shylock on the Rialto, (or Exchange) he used to
+      reproach him with his usuries and hard dealings, which the Jew would bear
+      with seeming patience, while he secretly meditated revenge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio was the kindest man that lived, the best conditioned, and had the
+      most unwearied spirit in doing courtesies; indeed, he was one in whom the
+      ancient Roman honor more appeared than in any that drew breath in Italy.
+      He was greatly beloved by all his fellow-citizens; but the friend who was
+      nearest and dearest to his heart was Bassanio, a noble Venetian, who,
+      having but a small patrimony, had nearly exhausted his little fortune by
+      living in too expensive a manner for his slender means, at young men of
+      high rank with small fortunes are too apt to do. Whenever Bassanio wanted
+      money Antonio assisted him; and it seemed as if they had but one heart and
+      one purse between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day Bassanio came to Antonio and told him that he wished to repair his
+      fortune by a wealthy marriage with a lady whom he dearly loved, whose
+      father, that was lately dead, had left her sole heiress to a large estate;
+      and that in her father&rsquo;s lifetime he used to visit at her house,
+      when he thought he had observed this lady had sometimes from her eyes sent
+      speechless messages that seemed to say he would be no unwelcome suitor;
+      but not having money to furnish himself with an appearance befitting the
+      lover of so rich an heiress, he besought Antonio to add to the many favors
+      he had shown him by lending him three thousand ducats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio had no money by him at that time to lend his friend; but expecting
+      soon to have. some ships come home laden with merchandise, he said he
+      would go to Shylock, the rich moneylender, and borrow the money upon the
+      credit of those ships.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio and Bassanio went together to Shylock, and Antonio asked the Jew
+      to lend him three thousand ducats upon any interest he should require, to
+      be paid out of the merchandise contained in his ships at sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this, Shylock thought within himself: &ldquo;If I can once catch him on
+      the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our
+      Jewish nation; he lends out money gratis; and among the merchants he rails
+      at me and my well-earned bargains, which he calls interest. Cursed be my
+      tribe if I forgive him!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio, finding be was musing within himself and did not answer, and
+      being impatient for the money, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shylock, do you hear? Will you lend the money?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this question the Jew replied: &ldquo;Signor Antonio, on the Rialto
+      many a time and often you have railed at me about my moneys and my
+      usuries, and I have borne it with a patient shrug, for sufferance is the
+      badge of all our tribe; and then you have called me unbeliever, cutthroat
+      dog, and spit upon my Jewish garments, and spurned at me with your foot,
+      as if I was a cur. Well, then, it now appears you need my help, and you
+      come to me and say, &lsquo;Shylock, lend me moneys.&rsquo; Has a dog
+      money? Is it possible a cur should lend three thousand ducats? Shall I
+      bend low and say, &lsquo;Fair sir, you spit upon me on Wednesday last;
+      another time you called me dog, and for these courtesies I am to lend you
+      moneys.&rdquo;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio replied: &ldquo;I am as like to call you so again, to spit on you
+      again, and spurn you, too. If you will lend me this money, lend it not to
+      me as to a friend, but rather lend it to me as to an enemy, that, if I
+      break, you may with better face exact the penalty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, look you,&rdquo; said Shylock, &ldquo;how you storm! I would
+      be friends with you and have your love. I will forget the shames you have
+      put upon me. I will supply your wants and take no interest for my money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seemingly kind offer greatly surprised Antonio; and then Shylock,
+      still pretending kindness and that all he did was to gain Antonio&rsquo;s
+      love, again said he would lend him the three thousand ducats, and take no
+      interest for his money; only Antonio should go with him to a lawyer and
+      there sign in merry sport a bond that, if he did not repay the money by a
+      certain day, he would forfeit a pound of flesh, to be cut off from any
+      part of his body that Shylock pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Content,&rdquo; said Antonio. &ldquo;I will sign to this bond, and
+      say there is much kindness in the Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio said Antonio should not sign to such a bond for him; but still
+      Antonio insisted that he would sign it, for that before the day of payment
+      came his ships would return laden with many times the value of the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, hearing this debate, exclaimed: &ldquo;O Father Abraham, what
+      suspicious people these Christians are! Their own hard dealings teach them
+      to suspect the thoughts of others. I pray you tell me this, Bassanio: if
+      he should break his day, what should I gain by the exaction of the
+      forfeiture? A pound of man&rsquo;s flesh, taken from a man, is not so
+      estimable, profitable, neither, as the flesh of mutton or beef. I say, to
+      buy his favor I offer this friendship: if he will take it, so; if not,
+      adieu.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, against the advice of Bassanio, who, notwithstanding all the Jew
+      had said of his kind intentions, did not like his friend should run the
+      hazard of this shocking penalty for his sake, Antonio signed the bond,
+      thinking it really was (as the Jew said) merely in sport.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rich heiress that Bassanio wished to marry lived near Venice, at a
+      place called Belmont. Her name was Portia, and in the graces of her person
+      and her mind she was nothing inferior to that Portia, of whom we read, who
+      was Cato&rsquo;s daughter and the wife of Brutus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio being so kindly supplied with money by his friend Antonio, at the
+      hazard of his life, set out for Belmont with a splendid train and attended
+      by a gentleman of the name of Gratiano.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time consented
+      to accept of him for a husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio confessed to Portia that he had no fortune and that his high
+      birth and noble ancestry were all that he could boast of; she, who loved
+      him for his worthy qualities and had riches enough not to regard wealth in
+      a husband, answered, with a graceful modesty, that she would wish herself
+      a thousand times more fair, and ten thousand times more rich, to be more
+      worthy of him; and then the accomplished Portia prettily dispraised
+      herself and said she was an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, yet
+      not so old but that she could learn, and that she would commit her gentle
+      spirit to be directed and governed by him in all things; and she said:
+      &ldquo;Myself and what is mine to you and yours is now converted. But
+      yesterday, Bassanio, I was the lady of this fair mansion, queen of myself,
+      and mistress over these servants; and now this house, these servants, and
+      myself are yours, my lord; I give them with this ring,&rdquo; presenting a
+      ring to Bassanio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio was so overpowered with gratitude and wonder at the gracious
+      manner in which the rich and noble Portia accepted of a man of his humble
+      fortunes that he could not express his joy
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      and reverence to the dear lady who so honored him, by anything but broken
+      words of love and thankfulness; and, taking the ring, he vowed never to
+      part with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia&rsquo;s waiting-maid, were in attendance upon
+      their lord and lady when Portia so gracefully promised to become the
+      obedient wife of Bassanio; and Gratiano, wishing Bassanio and the generous
+      lady joy, desired permission to be married at the same time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all my heart, Gratiano,&rdquo; said Bassanio, &ldquo;if you
+      can get a wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano then said that he loved the Lady Portia&rsquo;s fair
+      waiting-gentlewoman, Nerissa, and that she had promised to be his wife if
+      her lady married Bassanio. Portia asked Nerissa if this was true. Nerissa
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam, it is so, if you approve of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia willingly consenting, Bassanio pleasantly said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then our wedding-feast shall be much honored by your marriage,
+      Gratiano.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The happiness of these lovers was sadly crossed at this moment by the
+      entrance of a messenger, who brought a letter from Antonio containing
+      fearful tidings. When Bassanio read Antonio&rsquo;s letter, Portia feared
+      it was to tell him of the death of some dear friend, he looked so pale;
+      and, inquiring what was the news which bad so distressed him, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sweet Portia, here are a few of the unpleasantest words that
+      ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, when I first imparted my love to you, I
+      freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins; but I should have
+      told you that I had less than nothing, being in debt.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio then told Portia what has been here related, of his borrowing the
+      money of Antonio, and of Antonio&rsquo;s procuring it of Shylock the Jew,
+      and of the bond by which Antonio had engaged to forfeit a pound of flesh
+      if it was not repaid by a certain day: and then Bassanio read Antonio&rsquo;s
+      letter, the words of which were:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sweet Bassanio, my ships are all lost, my bond to the Jew is forfeited,
+      and since in paying it is impossible I should live, I could wish, to see
+      you at my death; notwithstanding, use your pleasure. If your love for me
+      do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear love,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;despatch all business
+      and begone; you shall have gold to pay the money twenty times over, before
+      this kind friend shall lose a hair by my Bassanio&rsquo;s fault; and as
+      you are so dearly bought, I will dearly love you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia then said she would be married to Bassanio before he set out, to
+      give him a legal right to her money; and that same day they were married,
+      and Gratiano was also married to Nerissa; and Bassanio and Gratiano, the
+      instant they were married, set out in great haste for Venice, where
+      Bassanio found Antonio in prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day of payment being past, the cruel Jew would not accept of the money
+      which Bassanio offered him, but insisted upon having a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s
+      flesh. A day was appointed to try this shocking cause before the Duke of
+      Venice, and Bassanio awaited in dreadful suspense the event of the trial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Portia parted with her husband she spoke cheeringly to him and bade
+      him bring his dear friend along with him when he returned; yet she feared
+      it would go hard with Antonio, and when she was left alone she began to
+      think and consider within herself if she could by any means be
+      instrumental in saving the life of her dear Bassanio&rsquo;s friend. And
+      notwithstanding when she wished to honor her Bassanio she had said to him,
+      with such a meek and wifelike grace, that she would submit in all things
+      to be governed by his superior wisdom, yet being now called forth into
+      action by the peril of her honored husband&rsquo;s friend, she did nothing
+      doubt her own powers, and by the sole guidance of her own true and perfect
+      judgment at once resolved to go herself to Venice and speak in Antonio&rsquo;s
+      defense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia had a relation who was a counselor in the law; to this gentleman,
+      whose name was Bellario, she wrote, and, stating the case to him, desired
+      his opinion, and that with his advice he would also send her the dress
+      worn by a counselor. When the messenger returned he brought letters from
+      Bellario of advice how to proceed, and also everything necessary for her
+      equipment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia dressed herself and her maid Nerissa in men&rsquo;s apparel, and,
+      putting on the robes of a counselor, she took Nerissa along with her as
+      her clerk; setting out immediately, they arrived at Venice on the very day
+      of the trial. The cause was just going to be heard before the Duke and
+      Senators of Venice in the Senate House when Portia entered this high court
+      of justice and presented a letter from Bellario, in which that learned
+      counselor wrote to the duke, saying he would have come himself to plead
+      for Antonio but that he was prevented by sickness, and he requested that
+      the learned young Doctor Balthasar (so he called Portia) might be
+      permitted to plead in his stead. This the Duke granted, much wondering at
+      the youthful appearance of the stranger, who was prettily disguised by her
+      counselor&rsquo;s robes and her large wig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now began this important trial. Portia looked around her and she saw
+      the merciless Jew; and she saw Bassanio, but he knew her not in her
+      disguise. He was standing beside Antonio, in an agony of distress and fear
+      for his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The importance of the arduous task Portia had engaged in gave this tender
+      lady courage, and she boldly proceeded in the duty she had undertaken to
+      perform. And first of all she addressed herself to Shylock; and allowing
+      that he had a right by the Venetian law to have the forfeit expressed in
+      the bond, she spoke so sweetly of the noble quality of MERCY as would have
+      softened any heart but the unfeeling Shylock&rsquo;s, saying that it
+      dropped as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath; and how
+      mercy was a double blessing, it blessed him that gave and him that
+      received it; and how it became monarchs better than their crowns, being an
+      attribute of God Himself; and that earthly power came nearest to God&rsquo;s
+      in proportion as mercy tempered justice; and she bade Shylock remember
+      that as we all pray for mercy, that same prayer should teach us to show
+      mercy. Shylock only answered her by desiring to have the penalty forfeited
+      in the bond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he not able to pay the money?&rdquo; asked Portia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio then offered the Jew the payment of the three thousand ducats as
+      many times over as he should desire; which Shylock refusing, and still
+      insisting upon having a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s flesh, Bassanio begged
+      the learned young counselor would endeavor to wrest the law a little, to
+      save Antonio&rsquo;s life. But Portia gravely answered that laws once
+      established never be altered. Shylock, hearing Portia say that the law
+      might not be altered, it seemed to him that she was pleading in his favor,
+      and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A Daniel is come to judgment! O wise young judge, how I do honor
+      you! How much elder are you than your looks!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia now desired Shylock to let her look at the bond; and when she had
+      read it she said: &ldquo;This bond is forfeited, and by this the Jew may
+      lawfully claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off nearest Antonio&rsquo;s
+      heart.&rdquo; Then she said to Shylock, &ldquo;Be merciful; take the money
+      and bid me tear the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But no mercy would the cruel Shylock show; and he said, &ldquo;By my soul,
+      I swear there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, Antonio,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;you must prepare
+      your bosom for the knife.&rdquo; And while Shylock was sharpening a long
+      knife with great eagerness to cut off the pound of flesh, Portia said to
+      Antonio, &ldquo;Have you anything to say?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio with a calm resignation replied that he had but little to say, for
+      that he had prepared his mind for death. Then he said to Bassanio:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, Bassanio! Fare you well! Grieve not that I am
+      fallen into this misfortune for you. Commend me to your honorable wife and
+      tell her how I have loved you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio in the deepest affliction replied: &ldquo;Antonio, I am married
+      to a wife who is as dear to me as life itself; but life itself, my wife,
+      and all the world are not esteemed with me above your life. I would lose
+      all, I would sacrifice all to this devil here, to deliver you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia hearing this, though the kind-hearted lady was not at all offended
+      with her husband for expressing the love he owed to so true a friend as
+      Antonio in these strong terms, yet could not help answering:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wife would give you little thanks, if she were present, to
+      hear you make this offer.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Gratiano, who loved to copy what his lord did, thought he must
+      make a speech like Bassanio&rsquo;s, and he said, in Nerissa&rsquo;s
+      hearing, who was writing in her clerk&rsquo;s dress by the side of Portia:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a wife whom I protest I love. I wish she were in heaven if
+      she could but entreat some power there to change the cruel temper of this
+      currish Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well you wish this behind her back, else you would have but
+      an unquiet house,&rdquo; said Nerissa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock now cried out, impatiently: &ldquo;We trifle time. I pray
+      pronounce the sentence.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now all was awful expectation in the court, and every heart was full
+      of grief for Antonio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia asked if the scales were ready to weigh the flesh; and she said to
+      the Jew, &ldquo;Shylock, you must have some surgeon by, lest he bleed to
+      death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, whose whole intent was that Antonio should bleed to death, said,
+      &ldquo;It is not so named in the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia replied: &ldquo;It is not so named in the bond, but what of that?
+      It were good you did so much for charity.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this all the answer Shylock would make was, &ldquo;I cannot find it; it
+      is not in the bond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said Portia, &ldquo;a pound of Antonio&rsquo;s flesh
+      is thine. The law allows it and the court awards it. And you may cut this
+      flesh from off his breast. The law allows it and the court awards it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Shylock exclaimed: &ldquo;O wise and upright judge! A Daniel is come
+      to judgment!&rdquo; And then he sharpened his long knife again, and
+      looking eagerly on Antonio, he said, &ldquo;Come, prepare!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tarry a little, Jew,&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;There is something
+      else. This bond here gives you no drop of blood; the words expressly are,
+      &lsquo;a pound of flesh.&rsquo; If in the cutting off the pound of flesh
+      you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by the law
+      to be confiscated to the state of Venice.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now as it was utterly impossible for Shylock to cut off the pound of flesh
+      without shedding some of Antonio&rsquo;s blood, this wise discovery of
+      Portia&rsquo;s, that it was flesh and not blood that was named in the
+      bond, saved the life of Antonio; and all admiring the wonderful sagacity
+      of the young counselor who had so happily thought of this expedient,
+      plaudits resounded from every part of the Senate House; and Gratiano
+      exclaimed, in the words which Shylock had used:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O wise and upright judge! Mark, Jew, a Daniel is come to judgment!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock, finding himself defeated in his cruel intent, said, with a
+      disappointed look, that he would take the money. And Bassanio, rejoiced
+      beyond measure at Antonio&rsquo;s unexpected deliverance, cried out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the money!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Portia stopped him, saying: &ldquo;Softly; there is no haste. The Jew
+      shall have nothing but the penalty. Therefore prepare, Shylock, to cut off
+      the flesh; but mind you shed no blood; nor do not cut off more nor less
+      than just a pound; be it more or less by one poor scruple, nay, if the
+      scale turn but by the weight of a single hair, you are condemned by the
+      laws of Venice to die, and all your wealth is forfeited to the state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me my money and let me go,&rdquo; said Shylock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have it ready,&rdquo; said Bassanio. &ldquo;Here it is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped him,
+      saying: &ldquo;Tarry, Jew. I have yet another hold upon you. By the laws
+      of Venice your wealth is forfeited to the state for having conspired
+      against the life of one of its citizens, and your life lies at the mercy
+      of the duke; therefore, down on your knees and ask him to pardon you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then said to Shylock: &ldquo;That you may see the difference of
+      our Christian spirit, I pardon you your life before you ask it. Half your
+      wealth belongs to Antonio, the other half comes to the state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The generous Antonio then said that he would give up his share of Shylock&rsquo;s
+      wealth if Shylock would sign a deed to make it over at his death to his
+      daughter and her husband; for Antonio knew that the Jew had an only
+      daughter who had lately married against his consent a young Christian
+      named Lorenzo, a friend of Antonio&rsquo;s, which had so offended Shylock
+      that he had disinherited her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Jew agreed to this; and being thus disappointed in his revenge and
+      despoiled of his riches, he said: &ldquo;I am ill. Let me go home. Send
+      the deed after me, and I will sign over half my riches to my daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get thee gone, then,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;and sign it; and
+      if you repent your cruelty and turn Christian, the state will forgive you
+      the fine of the other half of your riches.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke now released Antonio and dismissed the court. He then highly
+      praised the wisdom and ingenuity of the young counselor and invited him
+      home to dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, who meant to return to Belmont before her husband, replied,
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank your Grace, but I must away directly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke said he was sorry he had not leisure to stay and dine with him,
+      and, turning to Antonio, he added, &ldquo;Reward this gentleman; for in my
+      mind you are much indebted to him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke and his senators left the court; and then Bassanio said to
+      Portia: &ldquo;Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Antonio have by your
+      wisdom been this day acquitted of grievous penalties, and I beg you will
+      accept of the three thousand ducats due unto the Jew.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we shall stand indebted to you over and above,&rdquo; said
+      Antonio, &ldquo;in love and service evermore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia could not be prevailed upon to accept the money. But upon Bassanio
+      still pressing her to accept of some reward, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your gloves. I will wear them for your sake.&rdquo; And
+      then Bassanio taking off his gloves, she espied the ring which she had
+      given him upon his finger. Now it was the ring the wily lady wanted to get
+      from him to make a merry jest when she saw her Bassanio again, that made
+      her ask him for his gloves; and she said, when she saw the ring, &ldquo;And
+      for your love, I will take this ring from you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bassanio was sadly distressed that the counselor should ask him for the
+      only thing he could not part with, and he replied, in great confusion,
+      that be could not give him that ring, because it was his wife&rsquo;s gift
+      and he had vowed never to part with it; but that he would give him the
+      most valuable ring in Venice, and find it out by proclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Portia affected to be affronted, and left the court, saying,
+      &ldquo;You teach me, sir, how a beggar should be answered.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Bassanio,&rdquo; said Antonio, &ldquo;let him have the ring. Let My
+love and the great service he has done for me be valued against your
+wife&rsquo;s displeasure.&rdquo; Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful,
+yielded, and sent Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the
+&ldquo;clerk&rdquo; Nerissa, who had also given Gratiano a ring, begged his
+ring, and Gratiano (not choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave
+it to her. And there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got
+home, how they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings and swear
+that they had given them as a present to some woman.
+</p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which never
+      fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a good action. Her
+      cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw: the moon never seemed to
+      shine so bright before; and when that pleasant moon was hid behind a
+      cloud, then a light which she saw from her house at Belmont as well
+      pleased her charmed fancy, and she said to Nerissa:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle
+      throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.&rdquo; And
+      hearing the sound of music from her house, she said, &ldquo;Methinks that
+      music sounds much sweeter than by day.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and, dressing themselves in
+      their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of their husbands, who soon
+      followed them with Antonio; and Bassanio presenting his dear friend to the
+      Lady Portia, the congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly
+      over when they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarreling in a corner of
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A quarrel already?&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano replied, &ldquo;Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that Nerissa
+      gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler&rsquo;s knife:
+      &lsquo;Love me, and leave me not.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?&rdquo; said
+      Nerissa. &ldquo;You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would
+      keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to the lawyer&rsquo;s
+      clerk. I know you gave it to a woman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By this hand,&rdquo; replied Gratiano, &ldquo;I gave it to a youth,
+      a kind Of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; be was
+      clerk to the young counselor that by his wise pleading saved Antonio&rsquo;s
+      life. This prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could not for my life
+      deny him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia said: &ldquo;You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your wife&rsquo;s
+      first gift. I gave my Lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure be would not
+      part with it for all the world.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, &ldquo;My Lord Bassanio gave
+      his ring away to the counselor, and then the boy, his clerk, that took
+      some pains in writing, he begged my ring.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry and reproached Bassanio for giving
+      away her ring; and she said Nerissa had taught her what to believe, and
+      that she knew some woman had the ring. Bassanio was very unhappy to have
+      so offended his dear lady, and he said with great earnestness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, by my honor, no woman had it, but a civil doctor who refused
+      three thousand ducats of me and begged the ring, which when I denied him
+      he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet Portia? I was so beset
+      with shame for my seeming ingratitude that I was forced to send the ring
+      after him. Pardon me, good lady. Had you been there, I think you would
+      have begged the ring of me to give the worthy doctor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Antonio, &ldquo;I am the unhappy cause of these
+      quarrels.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Portia bid Antonio not to grieve at that, for that be was welcome
+      notwithstanding; and then Antonio said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I once did lend my body for Bassanio&rsquo;s sake; and but for him
+      to whom your husband gave the ring I should have now been dead. I dare be
+      bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will never more break his
+      faith with you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you shall be his surety,&rdquo; said Portia. &ldquo;Give him
+      this ring and bid him keep it better than the other.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Bassanio looked at this ring be was strangely surprised to find it
+      was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him how she was the young
+      counselor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and Bassanio found, to his
+      unspeakable wonder and delight, that it was by the noble courage and
+      wisdom of his wife that Antonio&rsquo;s life was saved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Portia again welcomed Antonio, and gave him letters which by some
+      chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account of Antonio&rsquo;s
+      ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived in the harbor. So
+      these tragical beginnings of this rich merchant&rsquo;s story were all
+      forgotten in the unexpected good fortune which ensued; and there was
+      leisure to laugh at the comical adventure of the rings and the husbands
+      that did not know their own wives, Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of
+      rhyming speech, that&mdash;
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+    While he lived, he&rsquo;d fear no other thing<br />
+    So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa&rsquo;s ring.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CYMBELINE</h2>
+    <p>
+      During the time of Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, there reigned in
+      England (which was then called Britain) a king whose name was Cymbeline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline&rsquo;s first wife died when his three children (two sons and a
+      daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest of these children, was
+      brought up in her father&rsquo;s court; but by a strange chance the two
+      sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery when the eldest was but
+      three years of age and the youngest quite an infant; and Cymbeline could
+      never discover what was become of them or by whom they were conveyed away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline was twice married. His second wife was a wicked, plotting woman,
+      and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline&rsquo;s daughter by his first
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son of her
+      own by a former husband (she also having been twice married), for by this
+      means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline to place the crown of Britain
+      upon the head of her son Cloten; for she knew that, if the king&rsquo;s
+      sons were not found, the Princess Imogen must be the king&rsquo;s heir.
+      But this design was prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the
+      consent or even knowledge of her father or the queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen&rsquo;s husband) was the best
+      scholar and most accomplished gentleman of that age. His father died
+      fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after his birth his mother
+      died also for grief at the loss of her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan, took Posthumus
+      (Cymbeline having given him that name because he was born after his father&rsquo;s
+      death), and educated him in his own court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and were
+      playfellows from their infancy; they loved each other tenderly when they
+      were children, and, their affection continuing to increase with their
+      years, when they grew up they privately married.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The disappointed queen soon learned this secret, for she kept spies
+      constantly in watch upon the actions of her stepdaughter, and she
+      immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with Posthumus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could exceed the wrath of Cymbeline when he heard that his
+      daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to marry a subject.
+      He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain and banished him from his native
+      country forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she suffered at
+      losing her husband, offered to procure them a private meeting before
+      Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which place he had chosen for
+      his residence in his banishment. This seeming kindness she showed the
+      better to succeed in her future designs in regard to her son Cloten, for
+      she meant to persuade Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage
+      was not lawful, being contracted without the consent of the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each other. Imogen
+      gave her husband a diamond ring which had been her mother&rsquo;s, and
+      Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and he fastened a bracelet
+      on the arm of his wife, which he begged she would preserve with great
+      care, as a token of his love; they then bade each other farewell, with
+      many vows of everlasting love and fidelity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen remained a solitary and dejected lady in her father&rsquo;s court,
+      and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for his banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of different
+      nations, who were talking freely of ladies, each one praising the ladies
+      of his own country and his own mistress. Posthumus, who had ever his own
+      dear lady in his mind, affirmed that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the
+      most virtuous, wise, and constant lady in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended that a lady
+      of Britain should be so praised above the Roman ladies, his country-women,
+      provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt the constancy of his so highly
+      praised wife; and at length, after much altercation, Posthumus consented
+      to a proposal of Iachimo&rsquo;s that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain
+      and endeavor to gain the love of the married Imogen. They then laid a
+      wager that if Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design he was to
+      forfeit a large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen&rsquo;s favor,
+      and prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so
+      earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the wager
+      was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring which was
+      Imogen&rsquo;s love present when she parted with her husband. Such firm
+      faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen that he thought he ran no
+      hazard in this trial of her honor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance and a courteous
+      welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but when he began to make
+      professions of love to her she repulsed him with disdain, and he soon
+      found that he could have no hope of succeeding in his dishonorable design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have recourse to a
+      stratagem to impose upon Posthumus, and for this purpose he bribed some of
+      Imogen&rsquo;s attendants and was by them conveyed into her bedchamber,
+      concealed in a large trunk, where he remained shut up till Imogen.was
+      retired to rest and had fallen asleep; and then, getting out of the trunk,
+      he examined the chamber with great attention, and wrote down everything he
+      saw there, and particularly noticed a mole which he observed upon Imogen&rsquo;s
+      neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her arm, which Posthumus
+      had given to her, he retired into the chest again; and the next day he set
+      off for Rome with great expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen
+      had given him the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in
+      her chamber. And in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: &ldquo;Her
+      bedchamber,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;was hung with tapestry of silk and
+      silver, the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a
+      piece of work most bravely wrought.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is true,&rdquo; said Posthumus; &ldquo;but this you might have
+      heard spoken of without seeing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the chimney,&rdquo; said Iachimo, &ldquo;is south of the
+      chamber, and the chimneypiece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures
+      livelier expressed.&rdquo; &ldquo;This is a thing you might have likewise
+      heard,&rdquo; said Posthumus; &ldquo;for it is much talked of.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo as accurately described the roof of the chamber; and added,
+      &ldquo;I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking Cupids made
+      of silver, each on one foot standing.&rsquo;&rdquo; He then took out the
+      bracelet, and said: &ldquo;Know you this jewel, sir? She gave me this. She
+      took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty action did outsell her
+      gift, and yet enriched it, too. She gave it me, and said, SHE PRIZED IT
+      ONCE.&rdquo; He last of all described the mole he had observed upon her
+      neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital in an agony of
+      doubt, now broke out into the most passionate exclamations against Imogen.
+      He delivered up the diamond ring to Iachimo which he had agreed to forfeit
+      to him if he obtained the bracelet from Imogen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of Britain,
+      who was one of Imogen&rsquo;s attendants, and had long been a faithful
+      friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he had of his wife&rsquo;s
+      disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take Imogen to Milford Haven, a
+      seaport of Wales, and there kill her. And at the same time he wrote a
+      deceitful letter to Imogen, desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that,
+      finding he could live no longer without seeing her, though he was
+      forbidden upon pain of death to return to Britain, he would come to
+      Milford Haven, at which place he begged she would meet him. She, good,
+      unsuspecting lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired
+      more than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio, and
+      the same night she received the letter she set out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though faithful to
+      Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil deed, disclosed to
+      Imogen the cruel order he had received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband, found
+      herself doomed by that husband to suffer death, was afflicted beyond
+      measure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort and wait with patient fortitude for
+      the time when Posthumus should see and repent his injustice. In the mean
+      time, as she refused in her distress to return to her father&rsquo;s
+      court, he advised her to dress herself in boy&rsquo;s clothes for more
+      security in traveling; to which advice she agreed, and thought in that
+      disguise she would go over to Rome and see her husband, whom, though he
+      had used her so barbarously, she could no-t forget to love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel he left her to her
+      uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but before he
+      departed he gave her a vial of cordial, which he said the queen had given
+      him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen and
+      Posthumus, gave him this vial, which she supposed contained poison, she
+      having ordered her physician to give her some poison, to try its effects
+      (as she said) upon animals; but the physician, knowing her malicious
+      disposition, would not trust her with real poison, but gave her a drug
+      which would do no other mischief than causing a person to sleep with every
+      appearance of death for a few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a
+      choice cordial, he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill
+      upon the road, to take it; and so, with blessings and prayers for her
+      safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he left her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Providence strangely directed Imogen&rsquo;s steps to the dwelling of her
+      two brothers who had been stolen away in their infancy. Bellarius, who
+      stole them away, was a lord in the court of Cymbeline, and, having been
+      falsely accused to the king of treason and banished from the court, in
+      revenge he stole away the two sons of Cymbeline and brought them up in a
+      forest, where he lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge,
+      but he soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children,
+      educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their princely
+      spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as they subsisted by
+      hunting, they were active and hardy, and were always pressing their
+      supposed father to let them seek their fortune in the wars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen&rsquo;s fortune to
+      arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest through which .her road lay
+      to Milford Haven (from which she meant to embark for Rome); and being
+      unable to find any place where she could purchase food, she was, with
+      weariness and hunger, almost dying; for it is not merely putting on a man&rsquo;s
+      apparel that will enable a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the
+      fatigue of wandering about lonely forests like a man.. Seeing this cave,
+      she entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure
+      food. She found the cave empty, but, looking about, she discovered some
+      cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing that she could not wait for an
+      invitation, but sat down and began to eat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, talking to herself, &ldquo;I see a man&rsquo;s
+      life is a tedious one. How tired am I! For two nights together I have made
+      the ground my bed. My resolution helps me, or I should be sick. When
+      Pisanio showed me Milford Haven from the mountain-top, how near it seemed!&rdquo;
+      Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel mandate came across her,
+      and she said, &ldquo;My dear Posthumus, thou art a false one!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their reputed
+      father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home. Bellarius had given
+      them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and they knew no better, but
+      supposed that Bellarius was their father; but the real names of these
+      princes were Guiderius and Arviragus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius entered the cave first, and, seeing Imogen, stopped them,
+      saying: &ldquo; Come not in yet. It eats our victuals, or I should think
+      it was a fairy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, sir?&rdquo; said the young men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jupiter!&rdquo; said Bellarius, again, &ldquo;there is an angel
+      in the cave, or if not, an earthly paragon.&rdquo; So beautiful did Imogen
+      look in her boy&rsquo;s apparel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave and addressed
+      them in these words: &ldquo;Good masters, do not harm me. Before I entered
+      your cave I had thought to have begged or bought what I have eaten.
+      Indeed, I have stolen nothing, nor would I, though I had found gold
+      strewed on the floor. Here is money for my meat, which I would have left
+      on the board when I had made my meal, and parted with prayers for the
+      provider.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They refused her money with great earnestness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see you are angry with me,&rdquo; said the timid Imogen; &ldquo;but,
+      sirs, if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I had
+      not made it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whither are you bound,&rdquo; asked Bellarius, &ldquo;and what is
+      your name?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fidele is my name,&rdquo; answered Imogen. &ldquo;I have a kinsman
+      who is bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford Haven, to whom being going,
+      almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prithee, fair youth,&rdquo; said old Bellarius, &ldquo;do not think
+      us churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in. You
+      are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have better cheer
+      before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their cave with
+      many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or, as they said, HIM)
+      as a brother; and they entered the cave, where (they having killed venison
+      when they were hunting) Imogen delighted them with her neat housewifery,
+      assisting them in preparing their supper; for, though it is not the custom
+      now for young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and
+      Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily
+      expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced their
+      broth, as if Juno had been sick and Fidele were her dieter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then,&rdquo; said Polydore to his brother, &ldquo;how
+      angel-like he sings!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They also remarked to each other that though Fidele smiled so sweetly, yet
+      so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face, as if grief and
+      patience had together taken possession of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near relationship,
+      though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys called her, Fidele)
+      became the doting-piece of her brothers, and she scarcely less loved them,
+      thinking that but for the memory of her dear Posthumus she could live and
+      die in the cave with these wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to
+      stay with them till she was enough rested from the fatigue of traveling to
+      pursue her way to Milford Haven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going out to
+      hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she was unwell.
+      Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband&rsquo;s
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest, was the
+      cause of her illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all the way
+      the noble parts and graceful demeanor of the youth Fidele.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected the cordial Pisanio
+      had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into a sound and
+      deathlike sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore went first
+      into the cave, and, supposing her asleep, pulled off his heavy shoes, that
+      he might tread softly and not awake her (so did true gentleness spring up
+      in the minds of these princely foresters); but he soon discovered that she
+      could not be awakened by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and
+      Polydore lamented over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had
+      never from their infancy been parted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and there
+      celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges, as was then the
+      custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen&rsquo;s two brothers then carried her to a shady covert, and there,
+      laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose to her departed spirit,
+      and, covering her over with leaves and flowers, Polydore said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew thy
+      grave. The pale primrose, that flower most like thy face; the bluebell,
+      like thy clear veins; and the leaf of eglantine, which is not sweeter than
+      was thy breath-all these will I strew over thee. Yea, and the furred moss
+      in winter, when there are no flowers to cover thy sweet corse.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed, very
+      sorrowful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen had not been long left alone when, the effect of the sleepy drug
+      going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the slight covering of
+      leaves and flowers they had thrown over her, she arose, and, imagining she
+      had been dreaming, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. How
+      came I here covered with flowers?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing nothing of her
+      new companions, she concluded it was certainly all a dream; and once more
+      Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage, hoping at last she should find her
+      way to Milford Haven, and thence get a passage in some ship bound for
+      Italy; for all her thoughts were still with her husband, Posthumus, whom
+      she intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen knew
+      nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman Emperor
+      Augustus Caesar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a Roman army had
+      landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into the very forest over which
+      Imogen was journeying. With this army came Posthumus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army, he did not mean
+      to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but intended to join
+      the army of Britain and fight in the cause of his king who had banished
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he had so
+      fondly loved, and by his own orders, too (Pisanio having written him a
+      letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that Imogen was dead), sat
+      heavy on his heart, and therefore he returned to Britain, desiring either
+      to be slain in battle or to be put to death by Cymbeline for returning
+      home from banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen, before she reached Milford Haven, fell into the hands of the Roman
+      army, and, her presence and deportment recommending her, she was made a
+      page to Lucius, the Roman general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline&rsquo;s army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they
+      entered this forest Polydore and Cadwal joined the king&rsquo;s army. The
+      young men were eager to engage in acts of valor, though they little
+      thought they were going to fight for their own royal father; and old
+      Bellarius went with them to the battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had long since repented of the injury he had done to Cymbeline in
+      carrying away his sons; and, having been a warrior in his youth, he gladly
+      joined the army to fight for the king he had so injured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the Britons
+      would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed, but for the
+      extraordinary valor of Posthumus and Bellarius and the two sons of
+      Cymbeline. They rescued the king and saved his life, and so entirely
+      turned the fortune of the day that the Britons gained the victory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death he sought
+      for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of Cymbeline, willing
+      to suffer the death which was to be his punishment if he returned from
+      banishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners and brought before
+      Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy, Iachimo, who was an officer in the
+      Roman army. And when these prisoners were before the king, Posthumus was
+      brought in to receive his sentence of death; and at this strange juncture
+      of time Bellarius with Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before
+      Cymbeline, to receive the rewards due to the great services they had by
+      their valor done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king&rsquo;s
+      attendants, was likewise present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therefore there were now standing in the king&rsquo;s presence (but with
+      very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with her new master
+      the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio and the false friend
+      Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who
+      had stolen them away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Roman general was the first who spoke; the rest stood silent before
+      the king, though there was many a beating heart among them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise of a
+      peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire. And she knew Iachimo,
+      and she saw a ring on his finger which she perceived to be her own., but
+      she did not know him as yet to have been the author of all her troubles;
+      and she stood before her own father a prisoner of war.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the garb of a
+      boy. &ldquo;It is my mistress,&rdquo; thought he. &ldquo;Since she is
+      living, let the time run on to good or bad.&rdquo; Bellarius knew her,
+      too, and softly said to Cadwal, &ldquo;Is not this boy revived from death?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One sand,&rdquo; replied Cadwal, &ldquo;does not more resemble
+      another than that sweet, rosy lad is like the dead Fidele.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same dead thing alive,&rdquo; said Polydore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Peace, peace,&rdquo; said Bellarius. &ldquo;If it were he, I am
+      sure be would have spoken to us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But we saw him dead,&rdquo;, again whispered Polydore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be silent,&rdquo; replied Bellarius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his own death;
+      and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he had saved his life in
+      the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline to pardon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his protection as
+      his page, was the first (as has been before said) who spoke to the king.
+      He was a man of high courage and noble and this was his speech to the
+      king:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear you take no ransom for your prisoners, but doom them all to
+      death. I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer, death. But there
+      is one thing for which I would entreat.&rdquo; Then bringing Imogen before
+      the king, he said: &ldquo;This boy is a Briton born. Let him be ransomed.
+      He is my page. Never master had a page so kind, so duteous, so diligent on
+      all occasions, so true, so nurselike. He hath done no Briton wrong, though
+      he hath served a Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her not in that
+      disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature spake in his heart, for
+      he said: &ldquo;I have surely seen him; his face appears familiar to me. I
+      know not why or wherefore I say, live, boy, but I give you your life; and
+      ask of me what boon you will and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it
+      be the life of the noblest prisoner I have.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank your Highness,&rdquo; said Imogen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to give any
+      one thing, whatever it might be,. that the person on whom that favor was
+      conferred chose to ask for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They all were attentive to hear what thing the page would ask for; and
+      Lucius, her master, said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will
+      ask for.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, alas!&rdquo; said Imogen. &ldquo;I have other work in hand,
+      good master. Your life I cannot ask for.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon than this:
+      that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had the ring he wore on
+      his finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the torture
+      if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on his finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villainy, in telling,
+      as has been before related, the whole story of his wager with Posthumus
+      and how he had succeeded in imposing upon is credulity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence of his lady
+      cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward and confessed to Cymbeline
+      the cruel sentence which he had enjoined Pisanio to execute upon the
+      princess, exclaiming, wildly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without
+      discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was thus
+      relieved from a weight of guilt and woe, and restored to the good graces
+      of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding his lost
+      daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her former place in his
+      fatherly affection, and not only gave her husband Posthumus his life, but
+      consented to acknowledge him for his son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation to make his
+      confession. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling him they
+      were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of punishments at a
+      season of such universal happiness? To find his daughter living, and his
+      lost sons in the persons of his young deliverers, that he had seen so
+      bravely fight in his defense, was unlooked-for joy indeed!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late master,
+      the Roman general, Lucius, whose life the king, her father, readily
+      granted at her request; and by the mediation of the same Lucius a peace
+      was concluded between the Romans and the Britons which was kept inviolate
+      many years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How Cymbeline&rsquo;s wicked queen, through despair of bringing her
+      projects to pass, and touched with remorse of conscience, sickened and
+      died, having first lived to see her foolish son Cloten slain in a quarrel
+      which he had provoked, are events too tragical to interrupt this happy
+      conclusion by more than merely touching upon. It is sufficient that all
+      were made happy who were deserving; and even the treacherous Iachimo, in
+      consideration of his villainy having missed its final aim, was dismissed
+      without punishment.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>KING LEAR</h2>
+    <p>
+      Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters: Goneril, wife to the Duke of
+      Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and Cordelia, a young maid,
+      for whose love the King of France and Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors,
+      and were at this time making stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government, he being
+      more than fourscore years old, determined to take no further part in state
+      affairs, but to leave the management to younger strengths, that he might
+      have time to prepare for death, which must at no long period ensue. With
+      this intent he called his three daughters to him, to know from their own
+      lips which of them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among
+      them in such proportions as their affection for him should seem to
+      deserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than words
+      could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of her own eyes,
+      dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such professing stuff, which
+      is easy to counterfeit where there is no real love, only a few fine words
+      delivered with confidence being wanted in that case. The king, delighted
+      to hear from her own mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly
+      that her heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon
+      her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had to say.
+      Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her sister, was not a whit
+      behind in her professions, but rather declared that what her sister had
+      spoken came short of the love which she professed to bear for his
+      Highness; in so much that she found all other joys dead in comparison with
+      the pleasure which she took in the love of her dear king and father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he thought; and
+      could do no less, after the handsome assurances which Regan had made, than
+      bestow a third of his kingdom upon her and her husband, equal in size to
+      that which he had already given away to Goneril.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called his joy,
+      he asked what she had to say,thinking no doubt that she would glad his
+      ears with the same loving speeches which her sisters had uttered, or
+      rather that her expressions would be so much stronger than theirs, as she
+      had always been his darling, and favored by him above either of them. But
+      Cordelia, disgusted with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she
+      knew were far from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches
+      were only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that they
+      and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no other reply but
+      this&mdash;that she loved his Majesty according to her duty, neither more
+      nor less.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his favorite
+      child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her speech, lest it
+      should mar her fortunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had given
+      her breeding, and loved her; that she returned those duties back as was
+      most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor him. But that she
+      could not frame her mouth to such large speeches as her sisters had done,
+      or promise to love nothing else in the world. Why had her sisters husbands
+      if (as they said) they had no love for anything but their father? If she
+      should ever wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would
+      want half her love, half of her care and duty; she should never marry like
+      her sisters, to love her father all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost extravagantly as
+      her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly told him so at any other
+      time, in more daughter-like and loving terms, and without these
+      qualifications, which did indeed sound a little ungracious; but after the
+      crafty, flattering speeches of her sisters, which she had seen draw such
+      extravagant rewards, she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to
+      love and be silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary
+      ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain; and that her
+      professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the more of
+      truth and sincerity than her sisters&rsquo;.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the old
+      monarch&mdash;who in his best of times always showed much of spleen and
+      rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age had so clouded over
+      his reason that he could not discern truth from flattery, nor a gaypainted
+      speech from words that came from the heart&mdash;that in a fury of
+      resentment he retracted the third part of his kingdom which yet remained,
+      and which he had reserved for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing
+      it equally between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany
+      and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all his
+      courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them jointly with
+      all the power, revenue, and execution of government, only retaining to
+      himself the name of king; all the rest of royalty he resigned, with this
+      reservation, that himself, with a hundred knights for his attendants, was
+      to be maintained by monthly course in each of his daughters&rsquo; palaces
+      in turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by reason, and
+      so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with astonishment and sorrow;
+      but none of them had the courage to interpose between this incensed king
+      and his wrath, except the Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good
+      word for Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him
+      to desist; but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had been ever
+      loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as a father, followed
+      as a master; and he had never esteemed his life further than as a pawn to
+      wage against his royal master&rsquo;s enemies, nor feared to lose it when
+      Lear&rsquo;s safety was the motive; nor, now that Lear was most his own
+      enemy, did this faithful servant of the king forget his old principles,
+      but manfully opposed Lear to do Lear good; and was unmannerly only because
+      Lear was mad. He had been a most faithful counselor in times past to the
+      king, and he besought him now that he would see with his eyes (as he had
+      done in many weighty matters) and go by his advice still, and in his best
+      consideration recall this hideous rashness; for he would answer with his
+      life his judgment that Lear&rsquo;s youngest daughter did not love him
+      least, nor were those empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of
+      hollowness. When power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness.
+      For Lear&rsquo;s threats, what could he do to him whose life was already
+      at his service? That should not hinder duty from speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the king&rsquo;s
+      wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his physician and
+      loves his mortal disease, he banished this true servant, and allotted him
+      but five days to make his preparations for departure; but if on the sixth
+      his hated person was found within the realm of Britain, that moment was to
+      be his death. And Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he
+      chose to show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay
+      there; and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the protection of the
+      gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and so discreetly spoken; and
+      only wished that her sisters&rsquo; large speeches might be answered with
+      deeds of love; and then he went, as he said, to shape his old course to a
+      new country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to hear the
+      determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and to know whether
+      they would persist in their courtship to Cordelia, now that she was under
+      her father&rsquo;s displeasure and had no fortune but her own person to
+      recommend her. And the Duke of Burgundy declined the match, and would not
+      take her to wife upon such conditions. But the King of France,
+      understanding what the nature of the fault had been which had lost her the
+      love of her father&mdash;that it was only a tardiness of speech and the
+      not being able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters&mdash;took
+      this young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry
+      above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters and of her
+      father, though he had been unkind, and she should go with him and be Queen
+      of him and of fair France, and reign over fairer possessions than her
+      sisters. And he called the Duke of Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke,
+      because his love for this young maid had in a moment run all away like
+      water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and besought
+      them to love their father well and make good their professions; and they
+      sullenly told her not to prescribe to them, for they knew their duty, but
+      to strive to content her husband, who had taken her (as they tauntingly
+      expressed it) as Fortune&rsquo;s alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart
+      departed, for she knew the cunning of her sisters and she wished her
+      father in better hands than she was about to leave him in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her sisters
+      began to show themselves &lsquo;in their true colors. Even before the
+      expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend by agreement ,with
+      his , daughter, Goneril, the old king began to find out the difference
+      between promises and performances. This wretch, having got from her father
+      all that he had to bestow, even to the giving away of the crown from off
+      his head, began to grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the
+      old man had reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of
+      being still a king. She could not bear to see him and his knights. Every
+      time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance; and when the
+      old man wanted to speak with her she would feign sickness or anything to
+      get rid of the sight of him, for it was plain that she esteemed his old
+      age a useless burden and his attendants an unnecessary expense; not only
+      she herself slackened in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her
+      example, and (it is to be feared) not without her private instructions,
+      her very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would either
+      refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously pretend not to hear
+      them. Lear could not but perceive this alteration in the behavior of his
+      daughter, but he shut his eyes against it as long as he could, as people
+      commonly are unwilling to believe the unpleasant consequences which their
+      own mistakes and obstinacy have brought upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than falsehood
+      and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by GOOD, USAGE. This eminently
+      appears in the instance of the good Earl of Kent, who, though banished by
+      Lear, and his life made forfeit if he were found in Britain, chose to stay
+      and abide all consequences as long as there was a chance of his being
+      useful to the king his master. See to what mean shifts and disguises poor
+      loyalty is forced to submit sometimes; yet it counts nothing base or
+      unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an obligation! In the
+      disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness and pomp laid aside, this
+      good earl proffered his services to the king, who, not knowing him to be
+      Kent in that disguise, but pleased with a certain plainness, or rather
+      bluntness, in his answers, which the earl put on (so different from that
+      smooth, oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having
+      found the effects not answerable in his daughter), a bargain was quickly
+      struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name of Caius, as he
+      called himself, never suspecting him to be his once great favorite, the
+      high and mighty Earl of Kent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to his royal
+      master, for, Goneril&rsquo;s steward that same day behaving in a
+      disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and language, as
+      no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his mistress, Caius, not
+      enduring to hear so open an affront put upon his Majesty, made no more
+      ado, but presently tripped up his heels and laid the unmannerly slave in
+      the kennel; for which friendly service Lear became more and more attached
+      to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far as so
+      insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor fool, or jester,
+      that had been of his palace while Lear had a palace, as it was the custom
+      of kings and great personages at that time to keep a fool (as he was
+      called) to make them sport after serious business&mdash;this poor fool
+      clung to Lear after he had given away his crown, and by his witty sayings
+      would keep up his good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from
+      jeering at his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving
+      all away to his daughters; at which time, as he rhymingly expressed it,
+      these daughters&mdash;
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;For sudden joy did weep,<br/>
+    And I for sorrow sung,<br/>
+That such a king should play bo-peep<br/>
+    And go the fools among.&rdquo;
+</p>
+    <p>
+      And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had plenty,
+      this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in the presence of
+      Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest which cut to the quick,
+      such as comparing the king to the hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the
+      cuckoo till they grow old enough, and then has its head bit off for its
+      pains; and saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse
+      (meaning that Lear&rsquo;s daughters, that ought to go behind, now ranked
+      before their father); and that Lear was no longer Lear, but the shadow of
+      Lear. For which free speeches he was once or twice threatened to be
+      whipped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to perceive
+      were not all which this foolish fond father was to suffer from his
+      unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that his staying in her palace
+      was inconvenient so long as he insisted upon keeping up an establishment
+      of a hundred knights; that this establishment was useless and expensive
+      and only served to fill her court with riot and feasting; and she prayed
+      him that he would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him,
+      such as himself, and fitting his age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was his
+      daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she who had
+      received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train and grudge him
+      the respect due to his old age. But she persisting in her undutiful
+      demand, the old man&rsquo;s rage was so excited that he called her a
+      detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth; and so indeed she did,
+      for the hundred knights were all men of choice behavior and sobriety of
+      manners, skilled in all particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or
+      feasting, as she said. And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would
+      go to his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights; and he spoke
+      of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and showed more
+      hideous in a child than the sea-monster. And he cursed his eldest
+      daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear, praying that she might
+      never have a child, or, if she had, that it might live to return that
+      scorn and contempt upon her which she had shown to him; that she might
+      feel how sharper than a serpent&rsquo;s tooth it was to have a thankless
+      child. And Goneril&rsquo;s husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to
+      excuse himself for any share which Lear might suppose he had in the
+      unkindness, Lear would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses
+      to be saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan, his
+      other daughter. And Lear thought to himself how small the fault of
+      Cordelia (if it was a fault) now appeared in comparison with her sister&rsquo;s,
+      and he wept; and then he was ashamed that such a creature as Goneril
+      should have so much power over his manhood as to make him weep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regan and her husband were keeping their court in great pomp and state at
+      their palace; and Lear despatched his servant Caius with letters to his
+      daughter, that she might be prepared for his reception, while he and his
+      train followed after. But it seems that Goneril had been beforehand with
+      him, sending letters also to Regan, accusing her father of waywardness and
+      ill-humors, and advising her not to receive so great a train as he was
+      bringing with him. This messenger arrived at the same time with Caius, and
+      Caius and he met, and who should it be but Caius&rsquo;s old enemy the
+      steward, whom he had formerly tripped up by the heels for his saucy
+      behavior to Lear. Caius not liking the fellow&rsquo;s look, and,
+      suspecting what he came for, began to revile him and challenged him to
+      fight, which the fellow refusing, Caius, in a fit of honest passion, beat
+      him soundly, as such a mischief-maker and carrier of wicked messages
+      deserved; which coming to the ears of Regan and her husband, they ordered
+      Caius to be put in the stocks, though he was a messenger from the king her
+      father and in that character demanded the highest respect. So that the
+      first thing the king saw when he entered the castle was his faithful
+      servant Caius sitting in that disgraceful situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was but a bad omen of the reception which he was to expect; but a
+      worse followed when, upon inquiry for his daughter and her husband, he was
+      told they were weary with traveling all night and could not see him; and
+      when, lastly, upon his insisting in a positive and angry manner to see
+      them, they came to greet him, whom should he see in their company but the
+      hated Goneril, who had come to tell her own story and set her sister
+      against the king her father!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This sight much moved the old man, and still more to see Regan take her by
+      the hand; and he asked Goneril if she was not ashamed to look upon his old
+      white beard. And Regan advised him to go home again with Goneril, and live
+      with her peaceably, dismissing half of his attendants, and to ask her
+      forgiveness; for he was old and wanted discretion, and must be ruled and
+      led by persons that had more discretion than himself. And Lear showed how
+      preposterous that would sound, if he were to go down on his knees and beg
+      of his own daughter for food and raiment; and he argued against such an
+      unnatural dependence, declaring his resolution never to return with her,
+      but to stay where he was with Regan, he and his hundred knights; for he
+      said that she had not forgot the half of the kingdom which he had endowed
+      her with, and that her eyes were not fierce like Goneril&rsquo;s, but mild
+      and kind. And he said that rather than return to Goneril, with half his
+      train cut off, he would go over to France and beg a wretched pension of
+      the king there, who had married his youngest daughter without a portion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was mistaken in expecting kinder treatment of Regan than he had
+      experienced from her sister Goneril. As if willing to outdo her sister in
+      unfilial behavior, she declared that she thought fifty knights too many to
+      wait upon him; that five-and-twenty were enough. Then Lear, nigh
+      heartbroken, turned to Goneril and said that he would go back with her,
+      for her fifty doubled five-and-twenty, and so her love was twice as much
+      as Regan&rsquo;s. But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so
+      many as five-and twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be waited
+      upon by her servants or her sister&rsquo;s servants? So these two wicked
+      daughters, as if they strove to exceed each other in cruelty to their old
+      father, who had been so good to them, by little and little would have
+      abated him of all his train, all respect (little enough for him that once
+      commanded a kingdom) which was left him to show that he had once been a
+      king! Not that a splendid train is essential to happiness, but from a king
+      to a beggar is a hard change, from commanding millions to be without one
+      attendant; and it was the ingratitude in his daughters&rsquo; denying more
+      than what he would suffer by the want of it, which pierced this poor king
+      to the heart; in so much that, with this double ill-usage, and vexation
+      for having so foolishly given away a kingdom, his wits began to be
+      unsettled, and while he said he knew not what, he vowed revenge against
+      those unnatural hags and to make examples of them that should be a terror
+      to the earth!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was thus idly threatening what his weak arm could never execute,
+      night came on, and a loud storm of thunder and lightning with rain; and
+      his daughters still persisting in their resolution not to admit his
+      followers, he called for his horses, and chose rather to encounter the
+      utmost fury of the storm abroad than stay under the same roof with these
+      ungrateful daughters; and they, saying that the injuries which wilful men
+      procure to themselves are their just punishment, suffered him to go in
+      that condition and shut their doors upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The winds were high, and the rain and storm increased, when the old man
+      sallied forth to combat with the elements, less sharp than his daughters&rsquo;
+      unkindness. For many miles about there was scarce a bush; and there upon a
+      heath, exposed to the fury of the storm in a dark night, did King Lear
+      wander out, and defy the winds and the thunder; and he bid the winds to
+      blow the earth into the sea, or swell the waves of the sea till they
+      drowned the earth, that no token might remain of any such ungrateful
+      animal as man. The old king was now left with no other companion than the
+      poor fool, who still abided with him, with his merry conceits striving to
+      outjest misfortune, saying it was but a naughty night to swim in, and
+      truly the king had better go in and ask his daughter&rsquo;s blessing:
+    </p>
+<p class="poem">
+But he that has a little tiny wit&mdash;<br/>
+    With heigh ho, the wind and the rain,&mdash;<br/>
+Must make content with his fortunes fit<br/>
+    Though the rain it raineth every day,
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+and swearing it was a brave night to cool a lady&rsquo;s pride.
+</p>
+
+    <p>
+      Thus poorly accompanied, this once great monarch was found by his
+      ever-faithful servant the good Earl of Kent, now transformed to Caius, who
+      ever followed close at his side, though the king did not know him to be
+      the earl; and be said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas, sir, are you here? Creatures that love night love not such
+      nights as these. This dreadful storm has driven the beasts to their
+      hiding-places. Man&rsquo;s nature cannot endure the affliction or the
+      fear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Lear rebuked him and said these lesser evils were not felt where a
+      greater malady was fixed. When the mind is at ease the body has leisure to
+      be delicate, but the tempest in his mind did take all feeling else from
+      his senses but of that which beat at his heart. And he spoke of filial
+      ingratitude, and said it was all one as if the mouth should tear the hand
+      for lifting food to it; for parents were hands and food and everything to
+      children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the good Caius still persisting in his entreaties that the king would
+      not stay out in the open air, at last persuaded him to enter a little
+      wretched hovel which stood upon the heath, where the fool first entering,
+      suddenly ran back terrified, saying that he had seen a spirit. But upon
+      examination this spirit proved to be nothing more than a poor Bedlam
+      beggar who had crept into this deserted hovel for shelter, and with his
+      talk about devils frighted the fool, one of those poor lunatics who are
+      either mad, or feign to be so, the better to extort charity from the
+      compassionate country people, who go about the country calling themselves
+      poor Tom and poor Turlygood, saying, &ldquo;Who gives anything to poor
+      Tom?&rdquo; sticking pins and nails and sprigs of rosemary into their arms
+      to make them bleed; and with horrible actions, partly by prayers, and
+      partly with lunatic curses, they move or terrify the ignorant country folk
+      into giving them alms. This poor fellow was such a one; and the king,
+      seeing him in so wretched a plight, with nothing but a blanket about his
+      loins to cover his nakedness, could not be persuaded but that the fellow
+      was some father who had given all away to his daughters and brought
+      himself to that pass; for nothing, he thought, could bring a man to such
+      wretchedness but the having unkind daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And from this and many such wild speeches which he uttered the good Caius
+      plainly perceived that he was not in his perfect mind, but that his
+      daughters&rsquo; ill-usage had really made him go mad. And now the loyalty
+      of this worthy Earl of Kent showed itself in more essential services than
+      he had hitherto found opportunity to perform. For with the assistance of
+      some of the king&rsquo;s attendants who remained loyal he had the person
+      of his royal master removed at daybreak to the castle of Dover, where his
+      own friends and influence, as Earl of Kent, chiefly lay; and himself,
+      embarking for France, hastened to the court of Cordelia, and did there in
+      such moving terms represent the pitiful condition of her royal father, and
+      set out in such lively colors the inhumanity of her sisters, that this
+      good and loving child with many tears besought the king, her husband, that
+      he would give her leave to embark for England, with a sufficient power to
+      subdue these cruel daughters and their husbands and restore the old king,
+      her father, to his throne; which being granted, she set forth, and with a
+      royal army landed at Dover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lear, having by some chance escaped from the guardians which&rsquo; the
+      good Earl of Kent had put over him to take care of him in his lunacy, was
+      found by some of Cordelia&rsquo;s train, wandering about the fields near
+      Dover, in a pitiable condition, stark mad, and singing aloud to himself,
+      with a crown upon his head which he had made of straw and nettles and
+      other wild weeds that he had picked up in the corn-fields. By the advice
+      of the physicians, Cordelia, though earnestly desirous of seeing her
+      father, was prevailed upon to put off the meeting till, by sleep and the
+      operation of herbs which they gave him, he should be restored to greater
+      composure. By the aid of these skilful physicians, to whom Cordelia
+      promised all her gold and jewels for the recovery of the old king, Lear
+      was soon in a condition to see his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A tender sight it was to see the meeting between this father and daughter;
+      to see the struggles between the joy of this poor old king at beholding
+      again his once darling child, and the shame at receiving such filial
+      kindness from her whom he had cast off for so small a fault in his
+      displeasure; both these passions struggling with the remains of his
+      malady, which in his half-crazed brain sometimes made him that he scarce
+      remembered where he was or who it was tb at so kindly kissed him and spoke
+      to him. And then he would beg the standers-by not to laugh at him if he
+      were mistaken in thinking this lady to be his daughter Cordelia! And then
+      to see him fall on his knees to beg pardon of his child; and she, good
+      lady, kneeling all the while to ask a blessing of him, and telling him
+      that it did not become him to kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his
+      child, his true and very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said)
+      to kiss away all her sisters&rsquo; unkindness, and said that they might
+      be ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his white
+      beard out into the cold air, when her enemy&rsquo;s dog, though it had bit
+      her (as she prettily expressed it), should have stayed by her fire such a
+      night as that, and warmed himself. And she told her father how she had
+      come from France with purpose to bring him assistance; and he said that
+      she must forget and forgive, for he was old and foolish and did not know
+      what he did; but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but
+      her sisters had none. And Cordelia said that she had no cause, no more
+      than they had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So we will leave this old king in the protection of his dutiful and loving
+      child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she and her physicians at
+      length succeeded in winding up the untuned and jarring senses which the
+      cruelty of his other daughters had so violently shaken. Let us return to
+      say a word or two about those cruel daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old father,
+      could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own husbands. They
+      soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of duty and affection, and
+      in an open way showed they had fixed their loves upon another. It happened
+      that the object of their guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a
+      natural son of the late Earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had
+      succeeded in disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his
+      earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a wicked man,
+      and a fit object for the love of such wicked creatures as Goneril and
+      Regan. It falling out about this time that the Duke of Cornwall, Regan&rsquo;s
+      husband, died, Regan immediately declared her intention of wedding this
+      Earl of Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as
+      well as to Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed love,
+      Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison; but being
+      detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her husband, the Duke of
+      Albany, for this deed, and for her guilty passion for the earl which had
+      come to his ears, she, in a fit of disappointed love and rage, shortly put
+      an end to her own life. Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these
+      wicked daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the justice
+      displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were suddenly taken off
+      from this sight to admire at the mysterious ways of the same power in the
+      melancholy fate of the young and virtuous daughter, the Lady Cordelia,
+      whose good deeds did seem to deserve a more fortunate conclusion. But it
+      is an awful truth that innocence and piety are not always successful in
+      this world. The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the
+      command of the bad Earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by
+      the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any should stand
+      between him and the throne, ended her life in prison. Thus heaven took
+      this innocent lady to itself in her young years, after showing her to the
+      world an illustrious example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive
+      this kind child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he died, the good Earl of Kent, who had still attended his old
+      master&rsquo;s steps from the first of his daughters&rsquo; ill-usage to
+      this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that it was he
+      who had followed him under the name of Caius; but Lear&rsquo;s care-crazed
+      brain at that time could not comprehend how that could be, or how Kent and
+      Caius could be the same person, so Kent thought it needless to trouble him
+      with explanations at such a time; and, Lear soon after expiring, this
+      faithful servant to the king, between age and grief for his old master&rsquo;s
+      vexations, soon followed him to the grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad Earl of Gloucester, whose
+      treasons were discovered, and himself slain in single combat with his
+      brother, the lawful earl, and how Goneril&rsquo;s husband, the Duke of
+      Albany, who was innocent of the death of Cordelia, and had never
+      encouraged his lady in her wicked proceedings against her father, ascended
+      the throne of Britain after the death of Lear, it is needless here to
+      narrate, Lear and his three daughters being dead, whose adventures alone
+      concern our story.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>MACBETH</h2>
+    <p>
+      When Duncan the Meek reigned King of Scotland there lived a great thane,
+      or lord, called Macbeth. This Macbeth was a near kinsman to the king, and
+      in great esteem at court for his valor and conduct in the wars, an example
+      of which he had lately given in defeating a rebel army assisted by the
+      troops of Norway in terrible numbers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and Banquo, returning victorious from
+      this great battle, their way lay over a blasted heath, where they were
+      stopped by the strange appearance of three figures like women, except that
+      they had beards, and their withered skins and wild attire made them look
+      not like any earthly creatures. Macbeth first addressed them, when they,
+      seemingly offended, laid each one her choppy finger upon her skinny lips,
+      in token of silence; and the first of them saluted Macbeth with the title
+      of Thane of Glamis. The general was not a little startled to find himself
+      known by such creatures; but how much more, when the second of them
+      followed up that salute by giving him the title of Thane of Cawdor, to
+      which honor he had no pretensions; and again the third bid him, &ldquo;All
+      hail! that shalt be king hereafter!&rdquo; Such a prophetic greeting might
+      well amaze him, who knew that while the king&rsquo;s sons lived he could
+      not hope to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo, they pronounced
+      him, in a sort of riddling terms, to be LESSER THAN MACBETH, AND GREATER!
+      NOT SO HAPPY, BUT MUCH HAPPIER! and prophesied that though he should never
+      reign, yet his sons after him should be kings in Scotland. They then
+      turned into air and vanished; by which the generals knew them to be the
+      weird sisters, or witches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adventure there
+      arrived certain messengers from the king, who were empowered by him to
+      confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of Cawdor. An event so
+      miraculously corresponding with the prediction of the witches astonished
+      Macbeth, and he stood wrapped in amazement, unable to make reply to the
+      messengers; and in that point of time swelling hopes arose in his mind
+      that the prediction of the third witch might in like manner have its
+      accomplishment, and that he should one day reign king in Scotland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning to Banquo, he said, &ldquo;Do you not hope that your children
+      shall be kings, when what the witches promised to me has so wonderfully
+      come to pass?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That hope,&rdquo; answered the general, &ldquo;might enkindle you
+      to aim at the throne; but oftentimes these ministers of darkness tell us
+      truths in little things, to betray us into deeds of greatest consequence.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the wicked suggestions of the witches had sunk too deep into the mind
+      of Macbeth to allow him to attend to the warnings of the good Banquo. From
+      that time he bent all his thoughts how to compass the throne of Scotland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Macbeth had a wife, to whom he communicated the strange prediction of the
+      weird sisters and its partial accomplishment. She was a bad, ambitious
+      woman, and so as her husband and herself could arrive at greatness she
+      cared not much by what means. She spurred on the reluctant purpose of
+      Macbeth, who felt compunction at the thoughts of blood, and did not cease
+      to represent the murder of the king as a step absolutely necessary to the
+      fulfilment of the flattering prophecy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened at this time that the king, who out of his royal condescension
+      would oftentimes visit his principal nobility upon gracious terms, came to
+      Macbeth&rsquo;s house, attended by his two sons, Malcolm and Donalbain,
+      and a numerous train of thanes and attendants, the more to honor Macbeth
+      for the triumphal success of his wars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The castle of Macbeth was pleasantly situated and the air about it was
+      sweet and wholesome, which appeared by the nests which the martlet, or
+      swallow, had built under all the jutting friezes and buttresses of the
+      building, wherever it found a place of advantage; for where those birds
+      most breed and haunt the air is observed to be delicate. The king entered,
+      well pleased with the place, and not less so with the attentions and
+      respect of his honored hostess, Lady Macbeth, who had the art of covering
+      treacherous purposes with smiles, and could look like the innocent flower
+      while she was indeed serpent under it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, being tired with his journey, went early to bed, and in his
+      state-room two grooms of his chamber (as was the custom) beside him. He
+      had been unusually pleased with his reception, and had made presents
+      before he retired to his principal ; and among the rest had sent a diamond
+      to Lady Macbeth, greeting the name of his most kind hostess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was the middle of night, when over half the world nature seems dead,
+      and wicked dreams abuse men&rsquo;s minds asleep, and none but the wolf
+      and the murderer are abroad. This was the time when Lady Macbeth waked to
+      plot the murder of the king. She would not have undertaken a deed so
+      abhorrent to her sex but that she feared her husband&rsquo;s nature, that
+      it was too full of the milk of human kindness to do a contrived murder.
+      She knew him to be ambitious, but withal to be scrupulous, and not yet
+      prepared for that height of crime which commonly in the end accompanies
+      inordinate ambition. She had won him to consent to the murder, but she
+      doubted his resolution; and she feared that the natural tenderness of his
+      disposition (more humane than her own) would come between and defeat the
+      purpose. So with her own hands armed with a dagger she approached the king&rsquo;s
+      bed, having taken care to ply the grooms of his chamber so with wine that
+      they slept intoxicated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan in a
+      sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed him
+      earnestly there was something in his face, as he slept, which resembled
+      her own father, and she had not the courage to proceed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She returned to confer with her husband. His resolution had begun to
+      stagger. He considered that there were strong reasons against the deed. In
+      the first place, he was not only a subject, but a near kinsman to the
+      king; and he had been his host and entertainer that day, whose duty, by
+      the laws of hospitality, it was to shut the door against his murderers,
+      not bear the knife himself. Then he considered how just and merciful a
+      king this Duncan had been, how clear of offense to his subjects, how
+      loving to his nobility, and in particular to him; that such kings are the
+      peculiar care of Heaven, and their subjects doubly bound to revenge their
+      deaths. Besides, by the favors of the king, Macbeth stood high in the
+      opinion of all sorts of men, and how would those honors be stained by the
+      reputation of so foul a murder!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In these conflicts of the mind Lady Macbeth found her husband inclining to
+      the better part and resolving to proceed no further. But she, being a
+      woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose, began to pour in at his
+      ears words which infused a portion of her own spirit into his mind,
+      assigning reason upon reason why he should not shrink from what he had
+      undertaken; how easy the deed was; how soon it would be over; and how the
+      action of one short night would give to all their nights and days to come
+      sovereign sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on his change of
+      purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cowardice; and declared that
+      she had given suck, and knew how tender it was to love the babe that
+      milked her, but she would, while it was smiling in her face, have plucked
+      it from her breast and dashed its brains out if she had so sworn to do it
+      as he had sworn to perform that murder. Then she added, how practicable it
+      was to lay the guilt of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And with
+      the valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish resolutions that he
+      once more summoned up courage to the bloody business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark to the room
+      where Duncan lay; and as he went he thought he saw another dagger in the
+      air, with the handle toward him, and on the blade and at the point of it
+      drops of blood; but when be tried to grasp at it it was nothing but air, a
+      mere phantasm proceeding from his own hot and oppressed brain and the
+      business he had in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king&rsquo;s room, whom he
+      despatched with one stroke of his dagger. just as he had done the murder
+      one of the grooms who slept in the chamber laughed in his sleep, and the
+      other cried, &ldquo;Murder,&rdquo; which woke them both.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But they said a short prayer; one of them said, &ldquo;God less us!&rdquo;
+      and the other answered, &ldquo;Amen&rdquo;; and addressed themselves to
+      sleep again. Macbeth, who stood listening to them, tried to say &ldquo;Amen&rdquo;
+      when the fellow said &ldquo;God bless us!&rdquo; but, though he had most
+      need of a blessing, the word stuck in his throat and he could not
+      pronounce it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he thought he heard a voice which cried: &ldquo;Sleep no more!
+      Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, that nourishes life.&rdquo;
+      Still it cried, &ldquo;Sleep no more!&rdquo; to all the house. &ldquo;Glamis
+      hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more, Macbeth
+      shall sleep no more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With such horrible imaginations Macbeth returned to his listening wife,
+      who began to think he had failed of his purpose and that the deed was
+      somehow frustrated. He came in so distracted a state that she reproached
+      him with his want of firmness and sent him to wash his hands of the blood
+      which stained them, while she took his dagger, with purpose to stain the
+      cheeks of the grooms with blood, to make it seem their guilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Morning came, and with it the discovery of the murder, which could not be
+      concealed; and though Macbeth and his lady made great show of grief, and
+      the proofs against the grooms (the dagger being produced against them and
+      their faces smeared with blood) were sufficiently strong, yet the entire
+      suspicion fell upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much
+      more forcible than such poor silly grooms could be supposed to have; and
+      Duncan&rsquo;s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought for refuge in
+      the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made his escape to
+      Ireland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king&rsquo;s sons, who should have succeeded him, having thus vacated
+      the throne, Macbeth as next heir was crowned king, and thus the prediction
+      of the weird sisters was literally accomplished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though placed so high, Macbeth and his queen could not forget the prophecy
+      of the weird sisters that, though Macbeth should be king, yet not his
+      children, but the children of Banquo, should be kings after him. The
+      thought of this, and that they had defiled their hands with blood, and
+      done so great crimes, only to place the posterity of Banquo upon the
+      throne, so rankled within them that they determined to put to death both
+      Banquo and his son, to make void the predictions of the weird sisters,
+      which in their own case had been so remarkably brought to pass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For this purpose they made a great supper, to which they invited all the
+      chief thanes; and among the rest, with marks of particular respect, Banquo
+      and his son Fleance were invited. The way by which Banquo was to pass to
+      the palace at night was beset by murderers appointed by Macbeth, who
+      stabbed Banquo; but in the scuffle Fleance escaped. From that Fleance
+      descended a race of monarchs who afterward filled the Scottish throne,
+      ending with James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England, under
+      whom the two crowns of England and Scotland were united.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At supper, the queen, whose manners were in the highest degree affable and
+      royal, played the hostess with a gracefulness and attention which
+      conciliated every one present, and Macbeth discoursed freely with his
+      thanes and nobles, saying that all that was honorable in the country was
+      under his roof, if he had but his good friend Banquo present, whom yet he
+      hoped he should rather have to chide for neglect than to lament for any
+      mischance. just at these words the ghost of Banquo, whom he had caused to
+      be murdered, entered the room and placed himself on the chair which
+      Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a bold man, and one that
+      could have faced the devil without trembling, at this horrible sight his
+      cheeks turned white with fear and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes
+      fixed upon the ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but
+      perceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took it for a
+      fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering that it was but the
+      same fancy which made him see the dagger in the air when he was about to
+      kill Duncan. But Macbeth continued to see the ghost, and gave no heed to
+      all they could say, while he addressed it with distracted words, yet so
+      significant that his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be
+      disclosed, in great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity of
+      Macbeth as disorder he was often troubled with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject. His queen and he had their
+      sleeps afflicted with terrible dreams, and the blood of Banquo troubled
+      them not more than the escape of Fleance, whom now they looked upon as
+      father to a line of kings who should keep their posterity out of the
+      throne. With these miserable thoughts they found no peace, and Macbeth
+      determined once more to seek out the weird sisters and know from them the
+      worst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sought them in a cave upon the heath, where they, who knew by foresight
+      of his coming, were engaged in preparing their dreadful charms by which
+      they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to them futurity. Their horrid
+      ingredients were toads, bats, and serpents, the eye of a newt and the
+      tongue of a dog, the leg of a lizard and the wing of the night-owl, the
+      scale of a dragon, the tooth of a wolf, the maw of the ravenous salt-sea
+      shark, the mummy of a witch, the root of the poisonous hemlock (this to
+      have effect must be digged in the dark), the gall of a goat, and the liver
+      of a Jew, with slips of the yew-tree that roots itself in graves, and the
+      finger of a dead child. All these were set on to boil in a great kettle,
+      or caldron, which, as fast as it grew too hot, was cooled with a baboon&rsquo;s
+      blood. To these they poured in the blood of a sow that had eaten her
+      young, and they threw into the flame the grease that had sweaten from a
+      murderer&rsquo;s gibbet. By these charms they bound the infernal spirit to
+      answer their questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his doubts resolved by
+      them or by their masters, the spirits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which be saw, boldly
+      answered: &ldquo;Where are they? Let me see them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first arose in the
+      likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by name and bid him
+      beware of the Thane of Fife; for which caution Macbeth thanked him; for
+      Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of Macduff, the Thane of Fife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child, and he
+      called Macbeth by name and bid him have no fear, but laugh to scorn the
+      power of man, for none of woman born should have power to hurt him; and he
+      advised him to be bloody, bold, and resolute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then live, Macduff!&rdquo; cried the king. &ldquo;What need I fear
+      thee? But yet I will make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live, that
+      I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That spirit being dismissed, a third arose in the form of a child crowned,
+      with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name and comforted him
+      against conspiracies, saying that he should never be vanquished until the
+      wood of Birnam to Dunsinane hill should come against him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet bodements! good!&rdquo; cried Macbeth; &ldquo;who can unfix
+      the forest, and move it from its earth-bound roots? I see I shall live the
+      usual period of man&rsquo;s life, and not be cut off by a violent death.
+      But my heart throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if your art can tell so
+      much, if Banquo&rsquo;s issue shall ever reign in this kingdom?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the caldron sank into the ground, and a noise of music was heard, and
+      eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and Banquo last, who bore a
+      glass which showed the figures of many more, and Banquo, all bloody,
+      smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to them; by which Macbeth knew that these
+      were the posterity of Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and
+      the witches, with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making a show
+      of duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And from this time the thoughts
+      of Macbeth were all bloody and dreadful. The first thing he heard when he
+      got out of the witches&rsquo; cave was that Macduff, Thane of Fife, had
+      fled to England to join the army which was forming against him under
+      Malcolm, the eldest son of the late king, with intent to displace Macbeth
+      and set Malcolm, the right heir, upon the throne. Macbeth, stung with
+      rage, set upon the castle of Macduff and put his wife and children, whom
+      the thane had left behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all
+      who claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These and such-like deeds alienated the minds of all his chief nobility
+      from him. Such as could fled to join with Malcolm and Macduff, who were
+      now approaching with a powerful army which they had raised in England; and
+      the rest secretly wished success to their arms, though, for fear of
+      Macbeth, they could take no active part. His recruits went on slowly.
+      Everybody hated the tyrant; nobody loved or honored him; but all suspected
+      him; and he began to envy the condition of Duncan, whom he had murdered,
+      who slept soundly in his grave, against whom treason had done its worst.
+      Steel nor poison, domestic malice nor foreign levies, could hurt him any
+      longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While these things were acting, the queen, who had been the sole partner
+      in his wickedness, in whose bosom he could sometimes seek a momentary
+      repose from those terrible dreams which afflicted them both nightly, died,
+      it is supposed, by her own hands, unable to bear the remorse of guilt and
+      public hate; by which event he was left alone, without a soul to love or
+      care for him, or a friend to whom he could confide his wicked purposes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He grew careless of life and wished for death; but the near approach of
+      Malcolm&rsquo;s army roused in him what remained of his ancient courage,
+      and he determined to die (as he expressed it) &ldquo;with armor on his
+      back.&rdquo; Besides this, the hollow promises of the witches had filled
+      him with a false confidence, and he remembered the sayings of the spirits,
+      that none of woman born was to hurt him, and that he was never to be
+      vanquished till Birnam wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought
+      could never be. So he shut himself up in his castle, whose impregnable
+      strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly waited the approach
+      of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there came a messenger to him, pale and
+      shaking with fear, almost unable to report that which he had seen; for he
+      averred, that as he stood upon his watch on the hill he looked toward
+      Birnam, and to his thinking the wood began to move!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Liar and slave!&rdquo; cried Macbeth. &ldquo;If thou speakest
+      false, thou shalt hang alive upon the next tree, till famine end thee. If
+      thy tale be true, I care not if thou dost as much by me&rdquo;; for
+      Macbeth now began to faint in resolution, and to doubt the equivocal
+      speeches of the spirits. He was not to fear till Birnam wood should come
+      to Dunsinane; and now a wood did move! &ldquo;However,&rdquo; said he,
+      &ldquo;if this which he avouches be true, let us arm and out. There is no
+      flying hence, nor staying here. I begin to be weary of the sun, and wish
+      my life at an end.&rdquo; With these desperate speeches he sallied forth
+      upon the besiegers, who had now come up to the castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The strange appearance which had given the messenger an idea of a wood
+      moving is easily solved. When the besieging army marched through the wood
+      of Birnam, Malcolm, like a skilful general, instructed his soldiers to hew
+      down every one a bough and bear it before him, by way of concealing the
+      true numbers of his host. This marching of the soldiers with boughs had at
+      a distance the appearance which had frightened the messenger. Thus were
+      the words of the spirit brought to pass, in a sense different from that in
+      which Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of his confidence
+      was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now a severe skirmishing took place, in which Macbeth, though feebly
+      supported by those who called themselves his friends, but in reality hated
+      the tyrant and inclined to the party of Malcolm and Macduff, yet fought
+      with the extreme of rage and valor, cutting to pieces all who were opposed
+      to him, till he came to where Macduff was fighting. Seeing Macduff, and
+      remembering the caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid
+      Macduff, above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff, who had been
+      seeking him through the whole fight, opposed his turning, and a fierce
+      contest ensued, Macduff giving him many foul reproaches for the murder of
+      his wife and children. Macbeth, whose soul was charged enough with blood
+      of that family already, would still have declined the combat; but Macduff
+      still urged him to it, calling him tyrant, murderer, hell-hound, and
+      villain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Macbeth remembered the words of the spirit, how none of woman born
+      should hurt him; and, smiling confidently, he said to Macduff:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thou losest thy labor, Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress the
+      air with thy sword as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed life, which
+      must not yield to one of woman born.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Despair thy charm,&rdquo; said Macduff, &ldquo;and let that lying
+      spirit whom thou hast served tell thee that Macduff was never born of
+      woman, never as the ordinary manner of men is to be born, but was untimely
+      taken from his mother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,&rdquo; said the trembling
+      Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; &ldquo;and let
+      never man in future believe the lying equivocations of witches and
+      juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have double senses, and,
+      while they keep their promise literally, disappoint our hopes with a
+      different meaning. I will not fight with thee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then live!&rdquo; said the scornful Macduff. &ldquo;We will have a
+      show of thee, as men show monsters, and a painted board, on which all be
+      written, &lsquo;Here men may see the tyrant!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said Macbeth, whose courage returned with despair.
+      &ldquo;I will not live to kiss the ground before young Malcolm&rsquo;s
+      feet to be baited with the curses of the rabble. Though Birnam wood be
+      come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed to me, who wast born of woman, yet
+      will I try the last.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With these frantic words he threw himself upon Macduff, who, after a
+      severe struggle, in the end overcame him, and, cutting off his head, made
+      a present of it to the young and lawful king, Malcolm, who took upon him
+      the government which, by the machinations of the usurper, he had so long
+      been deprived of, and ascended the throne of Duncan the Meek among the
+      acclamations of the nobles and the people.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>ALL&rsquo;S WELL THAT ENDS WELL</h2>
+    <p>
+      Bertram, Count of Rousillon, had newly come to his title and estate by the
+      death of his father. The King of France loved the father of Bertram, and
+      when he heard of his death he sent for his son to come immediately to his
+      royal court in Paris, intending, for the friendship he bore the late
+      count, to grace young Bertram with his especial favor and protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when Lafeu, an
+      old lord of the French court, came to conduct him to the king. The King of
+      France was an absolute monarch and the invitation to court was in the form
+      of a royal mandate, or positive command, which no subject, of what high
+      dignity soever, might disobey; therefore, though the countess, in parting
+      with this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose loss
+      she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a single day, but
+      gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who came to fetch him, tried
+      to comfort the countess for the loss of her late lord and her son&rsquo;s
+      sudden absence; and he said, in a courtier&rsquo;s flattering manner, that
+      the king was so kind a prince, she would find in his Majesty a husband,
+      and that he would be a father to her son; meaning only that the good king
+      would befriend the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the
+      king had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his physicians
+      to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on hearing this account
+      of the king&rsquo;s ill health, and said she wished the father of Helena
+      (a young gentlewoman who was present in attendance upon her) were living
+      that she doubted not he could have cured his Majesty of his disease. And
+      she told Lafeu something of the history of Helena, saying she was the only
+      daughter of the famous physician, Gerard de Narbon, and that he had
+      recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so that since his
+      death she had taken Helena under her protection; then the countess praised
+      the virtuous disposition and excellent qualities of Helena, saying she
+      inherited these virtues from her worthy father. While she was speaking,
+      Helena wept in sad and mournful silence, which made the countess gently
+      reprove her for too much grieving for her father&rsquo;s death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram now bade his mother farewell. The countess parted with this dear
+      son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to the care of Lafeu,
+      saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good my lord, advise him, for he is an unseasoned courtier.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram&rsquo;s last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words of
+      mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his short farewell
+      to her with saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and mournful
+      silence the tears she shed were not for Gerard de Narbon.. Helena loved
+      her father, but in the present feeling of a deeper love, the object of
+      which she was about to lose, she had forgotten the very form and features
+      of her dead father, her imagination presenting no image to her mind but
+      Bertram&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he was the
+      Count of Rousillon, descended from the most ancient family in France. She
+      of humble birth. Her parents of no note at all. His ancestors all noble.
+      And therefore she looked up to the high-born Bertram as to her master and
+      to her dear lord, and dared not form any wish but to live his servant,
+      and, so living, to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her
+      between his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes that she would say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were all one that I should love a bright particular star, and
+      think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram&rsquo;s absence filled her eyes with tears and her heart with
+      sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty comfort to
+      her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and look upon his dark
+      eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his fine hair till she seemed to
+      draw his portrait on the tablet of her heart, that heart too capable of
+      retaining the memory of every line in the features of that loved face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gerard de Narbon, when he died, left her no other portion than some
+      prescriptions of rare and well-proved virtue, which, by deep study and
+      long experience in medicine, he had collected as sovereign and almost
+      infallible remedies. Among the rest there was one set down as an approved
+      medicine for the disease under which Lafeu said the king at that time
+      languished; and when Helena heard of the king&rsquo;s complaint, she, who
+      till now had been so humble and so hopeless, formed an ambitious project
+      in her mind to go herself to Paris and undertake the cure of the king. But
+      though Helena was the possessor of this choice prescription, it was
+      unlikely, as the king as well as his physicians was of opinion that his
+      disease was incurable, that they would give credit to a poor unlearned
+      virgin if she should offer to perform a cure. The firm hopes that Helena
+      had of succeeding, if she might be permitted to make the trial, seemed
+      more than even her father&rsquo;s skill warranted, though he was the most
+      famous physician of his time; for she felt a strong faith that this good
+      medicine was sanctified by all the luckiest stars in heaven to be the
+      legacy that should advance her fortune, even to the high dignity of being
+      Count Rousillon&rsquo;s wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram had not been long gone when the countess was informed by her
+      steward that he had overheard Helena talking to herself, and that he
+      understood, from some words she uttered, she was in love with Bertram and
+      thought of following him to Paris. The countess dismissed the steward with
+      thanks, and desired him to tell Helena she wished to speak with her. What
+      she had just heard of Helena brought the remembrance of days long past
+      into the mind of the countess; those days, probably, when her love for
+      Bertram&rsquo;s father first began; and she said to herself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so it was with me when I was young. Love is a thorn that
+      belongs to the rose of youth; for in the season of youth, if ever we are
+      Nature&rsquo;s children, these faults are ours, though then we think not
+      they are faults.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the countess was thus meditating on the loving errors of her own
+      youth, Helena entered, and she said to her, &ldquo;Helena, you know I am a
+      mother to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena replied, &ldquo;You are my honorable mistress.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are my daughter,&rdquo; said the countess again. &ldquo;I say I
+      am your mother. Why do you start and look pale at my words?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With looks of alarm and confused thoughts, fearing the countess suspected
+      her love, Helena still replied, &ldquo;Pardon me, madam, you are not my
+      mother; the Count Rousillon cannot be my brother, nor I your daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet, Helena,&rdquo; said the countess, &ldquo;you might be my
+      daughter-in-law; and I am afraid that is what you mean to be, the words
+      MOTHER and DAUGHTER so disturb you. Helena, do you love my son?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good madam, pardon me,&rdquo; said the affrighted Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the countess repeated her question. &ldquo;Do you love my son?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not you love him, madam?&rdquo; said Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess replied: &ldquo;Give me not this evasive answer, Helena.
+      Come, come, disclose the state of your affections, for your love has to
+      the full appeared.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena, on her knees now, owned her love, and with shame and terror
+      implored the pardon of her noble mistress; and with words expressive of
+      the sense she had of the inequality between their fortunes she protested
+      Bertram did not know she loved him, comparing her humble, unaspiring love
+      to a poor Indian who adores the sun that looks upon his worshiper but
+      knows of him no more. The countess asked Helena if she had not lately an
+      intent to go to Paris. Helena owned the design she had formed in her mind
+      when she heard Lafeu speak of the king&rsquo;s illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This was your motive for wishing to go to Paris,&rdquo; said the
+      countess, &ldquo;was it? Speak truly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena honestly answered, &ldquo;My lord your son made me to think of
+      this; else Paris. and the medicine and the king had from the conversation
+      of my thoughts been absent then.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess heard the whole of this confession without saying a word
+      either of approval or of blame, but she strictly questioned Helena as to
+      the probability of the medicine being useful to the king. She found that
+      it was the most prized by Gerard de Narbon of all he possessed, and that
+      he had given it to his daughter on his death-bed; and remembering the
+      solemn promise she had made at that awful hour in regard to this young
+      maid, whose destiny, and the life of the king himself, seemed to depend on
+      the execution of a project (which, though conceived by the fond
+      suggestions of a loving maiden&rsquo;s thoughts, the countess knew not but
+      it might be the unseen workings of Providence to bring to pass the
+      recovery of the king and to lay the foundation of the future fortunes of
+      Gerard de Narbon&rsquo;s daughter), free leave she gave to Helena to
+      pursue her own way, and generously furnished her with ample means and
+      suitable attendants; and Helena set out for Paris with the blessings of
+      the countess and her kindest wishes for her success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena arrived at Paris, and by the assistance of her friend, the old Lord
+      Lafeu, she obtained an audience of the king. She had still many
+      difficulties to encounter, for the king was not easily prevailed on to try
+      the medicine offered him by this fair young doctor. But she told him she
+      was Gerard de Narbon&rsquo;s daughter (with whose fame the king was well
+      acquainted), and she offered the precious medicine as the darling treasure
+      which contained the essence of all her father&rsquo;s long experience and
+      skill, and she boldly engaged to forfeit her life if it failed to restore
+      his Majesty to perfect health in the space of two days. The king at length
+      consented to try it, and in two days&rsquo; time Helena was to lose her
+      fife if the king did not recover; but if she succeeded, he promised to
+      give her the choice of any man throughout all France (the princes only
+      excepted) whom she could like for a husband; the choice of a husband being
+      the fee Helena demanded if she cured the king of his disease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the efficacy
+      of her father&rsquo;s medicine. Before two days were at an end the king
+      was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all the young noblemen of
+      his court together, in order to confer the promised reward of a husband
+      upon his fair physician; and he desired Helena to look round on this
+      youthful parcel of noble bachelors and choose her husband. Helena was not
+      slow to make her choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count
+      Rousillon, and, turning to Bertram, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give me
+      and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;young Bertram, take her;
+      she is your wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present of the
+      king&rsquo;s of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a poor
+      physician&rsquo;s daughter, bred at his father&rsquo;s charge, and now
+      living a dependent on his mother&rsquo;s bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and she said
+      to the king: &ldquo;That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let the rest
+      go.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so slighted, for the
+      power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was one of the many privileges
+      of the kings of France, and that same day Bertram was married to Helena, a
+      forced and uneasy marriage to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the
+      poor lady, who, though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her
+      life to obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband&rsquo;s
+      love not being a gift in the power of the King of France to bestow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena was no sooner married than she was desired by Bertram to apply to
+      the king for him for leave of absence from court; and when she brought him
+      the king&rsquo;s permission for his departure, Bertram told her that he
+      was not prepared for this sudden marriage, it had much unsettled him, and
+      therefore she must not wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena
+      wondered not, she grieved when she found it was his intention to leave
+      her. He ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this
+      unkind command, she replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, I can nothing say to this but that I am your most obedient
+      servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that desert
+      wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great fortunes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But this humble speech of Helena&rsquo;s did not at all move the haughty
+      Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her without even the
+      common civility of a kind farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished the
+      purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the king, and she
+      had wedded her heart&rsquo;s dear lord, the Count Rousillon; but she
+      returned back a dejected lady to her noble mother-in-law, and as soon as
+      she entered the house she received a letter from Bertram which almost
+      broke her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she had been
+      her son&rsquo;s own choice and a lady of a high degree, and she spoke kind
+      words to comfort her for the unkind neglect of Bertram in sending his wife
+      home on her bridal day alone. But this gracious reception failed to cheer
+      the sad mind of Helena, and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.&rdquo; She then read these
+      words out of Bertram&rsquo;s letter:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you can get the ring from my finger, which never shall come
+      off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write a Never.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a dreadful sentence!&rdquo; said Helena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram was gone,
+      she should be her child and that she deserved a lord that twenty such rude
+      boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly call her mistress. But in vain
+      by respectful condescension and kind flattery this matchless mother tried
+      to soothe the sorrows of her daughter-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena still kept her eyes fixed upon the letter, and cried out in an
+      agony of grief, &ldquo;TILL I HAVE NO WIFE, I HAVE NOTHING IN FRANCE.&rdquo;
+      The countess asked her if she found those words in the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, madam,&rdquo; was all poor Helena could answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be delivered to
+      the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her with the reason of her
+      sudden absence. In this letter she informed her that she was so much
+      grieved at having driven Bertram from his native country and his home,
+      that to atone for her offense, she had undertaken a pilgrimage to the
+      shrine of St. Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the countess
+      to inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his house forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became an officer
+      in the Duke of Florence&rsquo;s army, and after a successful war, in which
+      he distinguished himself by many brave actions, Bertram received letters
+      from his mother containing the acceptable tidings that Helena would no
+      more disturb him; and he was preparing to return home, when Helena
+      herself, clad in her pilgrim&rsquo;s weeds, arrived at the city of
+      Florence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on their way
+      to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this city she heard
+      that a hospitable widow dwelt there who used to receive into her house the
+      female pilgrims that were going to visit the shrine of that saint, giving
+      them lodging and kind entertainment. To this good lady, therefore, Helena
+      went, and the widow gave her a courteous welcome and invited her to see
+      whatever was curious in that famous city, and told her that if she would
+      like to see the duke&rsquo;s army she would take her where she might have
+      a full view of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will see a countryman of yours,&rdquo; said the widow.
+      &ldquo;His name is Count Rousillon, who has done worthy service in the
+      duke&rsquo;s wars.&rdquo; Helena wanted no second invitation, when she
+      found Bertram was to make part of the show. She accompanied her hostess;
+      and a sad and mournful pleasure it was to her to look once more upon her
+      dear husband&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he not a handsome man?&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like him well,&rdquo; replied Helena, with great truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the way they walked the talkative widow&rsquo;s discourse was all of
+      Bertram. She told Helena the story of Bertram&rsquo;s marriage, and how he
+      had deserted the poor lady his wife and entered into the duke&rsquo;s army
+      to avoid living with her. To this account of her own misfortunes Helena
+      patiently listened, and when it was ended the history of Bertram was not
+      yet done, for then the widow began another tale, every word of which sank
+      deep into the mind of Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram&rsquo;s
+      love for her daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the king, it
+      seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had been stationed with
+      the army at Florence he had fallen in love with Diana, a fair young
+      gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow who was Helena&rsquo;s hostess;
+      and every night, with music of all sorts, and songs composed in praise of
+      Diana&rsquo;s beauty, he would come under her window and solicit her love;
+      and all his suit to her was that she would permit him to visit her by
+      stealth after the family were retired to rest. But Diana would by no means
+      be persuaded to grant this improper request, nor give any encouragement to
+      his suit, knowing him to be a married man; for Diana had been brought up
+      under the counsels of a prudent mother, who, though she was now in reduced
+      circumstances, was well born and descended from the noble family of the
+      Capulets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this the good lady related to Helena, highly praising the virtuous
+      principles of her discreet daughter, which she said were entirely owing to
+      the excellent education and good advice she had given her; and she further
+      said that Bertram had been particularly importunate with Diana to admit
+      him to the visit he so much desired that night, because he was going to
+      leave Florence early the next morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram&rsquo;s love for the widow&rsquo;s
+      daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena conceived a
+      project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of her former one) to
+      recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the widow that she was Helena,
+      the deserted wife of Bertram, and requested that her kind hostess and her
+      daughter would suffer this visit from Bertram to take place, and allow her
+      to pass herself upon Bertram for Diana, telling them her chief motive for
+      desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband was to get a ring
+      from him, which, he had said, if ever she was in possession of he would
+      acknowledge her as his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair, partly
+      moved by pity for this unhappy, forsaken wife and partly won over to her
+      interest by the promises of reward which Helena made them, giving them a
+      purse of money in earnest of her future favor. In the course of that day
+      Helena caused information to be sent to Bertram that she was dead, hoping
+      that, when he thought himself free to make a second choice by the news of
+      her death, he would offer marriage to her in her feigned character of
+      Diana. And if she could obtain the ring and this promise, too, she doubted
+      not she should make some future good come of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into Diana&rsquo;s
+      chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The flattering
+      compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena were precious sounds
+      to her though she knew they were meant for Diana; and Bertram was so well
+      pleased with her that he made her a solemn promise to be her husband, and
+      to love her forever; which she hoped would be prophetic of a real
+      affection, when he should know it was his own wife, the despised Helena,
+      whose conversation had so delighted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps he would
+      not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every day, he had
+      entirely over looked her beauty; a face we are accustomed to see
+      constantly losing the effect which is caused by the first sight either of
+      beauty or of plainness; and of her understanding it was impossible he
+      should judge, because she felt such reverence, mixed with her love for
+      him, that she was always silent in his presence. But now that her future
+      fate, and the happy ending of all her love-projects, seemed to depend on
+      her leaving a favorable impression on the mind of Bertram from this night&rsquo;s
+      interview, she exerted all her wit to please him; and the simple graces of
+      her lively conversation and the endearing sweetness of her manners so
+      charmed Bertram that be vowed she should be his wife. Helena begged the
+      ring from off his finger as a token of his regard, and he gave it to her;
+      and in return for this ring, which it was of such importance to her to
+      possess, she gave him another ring, which was one the king had made her a
+      present of. Before it was light in the morning she sent Bertram away; and
+      he immediately set out on his journey toward his mother&rsquo;s house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena prevailed on the widow and Diana to accompany her to Paris, their
+      further assistance being necessary to the full accomplishment of the plan
+      she had formed. When they arrived there, they found the king was gone upon
+      a visit to the Countess of Rousillon, and Helena followed the king with
+      all the speed she could make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was still in perfect health, and his gratitude to her who had
+      been the means of his recovery was so lively in his mind that the moment
+      he saw the Countess of Rousillon he began to talk of Helena, calling her a
+      precious jewel that was lost by the folly of her son; but seeing the
+      subject distressed the countess, who sincerely lamented the death of
+      Helena, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the good-natured old Lafeu, who was present, and could not bear that
+      the memory of his favorite Helena should be so lightly passed over, said,
+      &ldquo;This I must say, the young lord did great offense to his Majesty,
+      his mother, and his lady; but to himself he did the greatest wrong of all,
+      for he has lost a wife whose beauty astonished all eyes, whose words took
+      all ears captive, whose deep perfection made all hearts wish to serve her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king said: &ldquo;Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
+      Well&mdash;call him hither&rdquo;; meaning Bertram, who now presented
+      himself before the king, and on his expressing deep sorrow for the
+      injuries he had done to Helena the king, for his dead father&rsquo;s and
+      his admirable mother&rsquo;s sake, pardoned him and restored him once more
+      to his favor. But the gracious countenance of the king was soon changed
+      toward him, for he perceived that Bertram wore the very ring upon his
+      finger which he had given to Helena; and he well remembered that Helena
+      had called all the saints in heaven to witness she would never part with
+      that ring unless she sent it to the king himself upon some great disaster
+      befalling her; and Bertram, on the king&rsquo;s questioning him how he
+      came by the ring, told an improbable story of a lady throwing it to him
+      out of a window, and denied ever having seen Helena since the day of their
+      marriage. The king, knowing Bertram&rsquo;s dislike to his wife, feared he
+      had destroyed her, and he ordered his guards to seize Bertram, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am wrapt in dismal thinking, for I fear the life of Helena was
+      foully snatched.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Diana and her mother entered and presented a petition to
+      the king, wherein they begged his Majesty to exert his royal power to
+      compel Bertram to marry Diana, he having made her a solemn promise of
+      marriage. Bertram, fearing the king&rsquo;s anger, denied he had made any
+      such promise; and then Diana produced the ring (which Helena had put into
+      her hands) to confirm the truth of her words; and she said that she had
+      given Bertram the ring he then wore, in exchange for that, at the time he
+      vowed to marry her. On hearing this the king ordered the guards to seize
+      her also; and, her account of the ring differing from Bertram&rsquo;s, the
+      king&rsquo;s suspicions were confirmed, and he said if they did not
+      confess how they came by this ring of Helena&rsquo;s they should be both
+      put to death. Diana requested her mother might be permitted to fetch the
+      jeweler of whom she bought the ring, which, being granted, the widow went
+      out, and presently returned, leading in Helena herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good countess, who in silent grief had beheld her son&rsquo;s danger,
+      and had even dreaded that the suspicion of his having destroyed his wife
+      might possibly be true, finding her dear Helena, whom she loved with even
+      a maternal affection, was still living, felt a delight she was hardly able
+      to support; and the king, scarce believing for joy that it was Helena,
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this indeed the wife of Bertram that I see?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helena, feeling herself yet an unacknowledged wife, replied, &ldquo;No, my
+      good lord, it is but the shadow of a wife you see; the name and not the
+      thing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram cried out: &ldquo;Both, both! Oh pardon!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my lord,&rdquo; said Helena, &ldquo;when I personated this fair
+      maid I found you wondrous kind; and look, here is your letter!&rdquo;
+      reading to him in a joyful tone those words which she had once repeated so
+      sorrowfully, &ldquo;WHEN FROM MY FINGER YOU CAN GET THIS RING&mdash;This
+      is done; it was to me you gave the ring. Will you be mine, now you are
+      doubly won?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bertram replied, &ldquo;If you can make it plain that you were the lady I
+      talked with that night I will love you dearly, ever, ever dearly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was no difficult task, for the widow and Diana came with Helena to
+      prove this fact; and the king was so well pleased with Diana for the
+      friendly assistance she had rendered the dear lady he so truly valued for
+      the service she had done him that he promised her also a noble husband,
+      Helena&rsquo;s history giving him a hint that it was a suitable reward for
+      kings to bestow upon fair ladies when they perform notable services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus Helena at last found that her father&rsquo;s legacy was indeed
+      sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven; for she was now the beloved
+      wife of her dear Bertram, the daughter-in-law of her noble mistress, and
+      herself the Countess of Rousillon.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap12"></a>TAMING OF THE SHREW</h2>
+    <p>
+      Katharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich
+      gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit and
+      fiery temper, such a loud-tongued scold, that she was known in Padua by no
+      other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed very unlikely, indeed
+      impossible, that any gentleman would ever be found who would venture to
+      marry this lady, and therefore Baptista was much blamed for deferring his
+      consent to many excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister
+      Bianca, putting off all Bianca&rsquo;s suitors with this excuse, that when
+      the eldest sister was fairly off his bands they should have free leave to
+      address young Bianca.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to Padua
+      purposely to look out for a wife, who, nothing discouraged by these
+      reports of Katharine&rsquo;s temper, and hearing she was rich and
+      handsome, resolved upon marrying this famous termagant, and taming her
+      into a meek and manageable wife. And truly none was so fit to set about
+      this herculean labor as Petruchio, whose spirit was as high as Katharine&rsquo;s,
+      and he was a witty and most happy-tempered humorist, and withal so wise,
+      and of such a true judgment, that he well knew how to feign a passionate
+      and furious deportment when his spirits were so calm that himself could
+      have laughed merrily at his own angry feigning, for his natural temper was
+      careless and easy; the boisterous airs he assumed when he became the
+      husband of Katharine being but in sport, or, more properly speaking,
+      affected by his excellent discernment, as the only means to overcome, in
+      her own way, the passionate ways of the furious Katharine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A-courting, then, Petruchio went to Katharine the Shrew; and first of all
+      he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave to woo his GENTLE DAUGHTER
+      Katharine, as Petruchio called her, saying, archly, that, having heard of
+      her bashful modesty and mild behavior, he had come from Verona to solicit
+      her love. Her father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess
+      Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent of what
+      manner of gentleness she was composed, for her music-master rushed into
+      the room to complain that the gentle Katharine, his pupil, had broken his
+      head with her lute for presuming to find fault with her performance;
+      which, when Petruchio heard, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have
+      some chat with her.&rdquo; And hurrying the old gentleman for a positive
+      answer, he said: &ldquo;My business is in haste, Signor Baptista. I cannot
+      come every day to woo. You knew my father. He is dead, and has left me
+      heir to all his lands and goods. Then tell me, if I get your daughter&rsquo;s
+      love, what dowry you will give with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but, being
+      glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would give her twenty
+      thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his estate at his death. So this
+      odd match was quickly agreed on and Baptista went to apprise his shrewish
+      daughter of her lover&rsquo;s addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to
+      listen to his suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of courtship
+      be should pursue; and he said: &ldquo;I will woo her with some spirit when
+      she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will tell her she sings as
+      sweetly as a nightingale; and if she frowns, I will say she looks as clear
+      as roses newly washed with dew. If she will not speak a word, I will
+      praise the eloquence of her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will
+      give her thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed her with:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully, &ldquo;They
+      call me Katharine who do speak to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie,&rdquo; replied the lover; &ldquo;for you are called plain
+      Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the
+      prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your mildness
+      praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms showing
+      him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he still praised
+      her sweet and courteous words, till at length, hearing her father coming,
+      he said (intending to make as quick a wooing as possible):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your father
+      has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is agreed on, and
+      whether you will or no I will marry you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had received
+      him kindly and that she had promised to be married the next Sunday. This
+      Katharine denied, saying she would rather see him hanged on Sunday, and
+      reproached her father for wishing to wed her to such a madcap ruffian as
+      Petruchio. Petruchio desired her father not to regard her angry words, for
+      they had agreed she should seem reluctant before him, but that when they
+      were alone he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel
+      against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the wedding
+      guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and rich clothes, that
+      my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on
+      Sunday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they waited long
+      before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for vexation to think that
+      Petruchio had only been making a jest of her. At last, however, he
+      appeared; but he brought none of the bridal finery be had promised
+      Katharine, nor was he dressed himself like a bridegroom, but in strange,
+      disordered attire, as if he meant to make a sport of the serious business
+      he came about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode were
+      in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said Katharine
+      was to be married to him, and not to his clothes. And, finding it was in
+      vain to argue with him, to the church they went, he still behaving in the
+      same mad way, for when the priest asked Petruchio if Katharine should be
+      his wife, he swore so loud that she should, that, all amazed, the priest
+      let fall his book, and as he stooped to take it up this mad-brained
+      bridegroom gave him such a cuff that down fell the priest and his book
+      again. And all the while they were being married he stamped and swore so
+      that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear. After the
+      ceremony was over, while they were yet in the church, he called for wine,
+      and drank a loud health to the company, and threw a sop which was at the
+      bottom of the glass full in the sexton&rsquo;s face, giving no other
+      reason for this strange act than that the sexton&rsquo;s beard grew thin
+      and hungerly, and seemed to ask the sop as he was drinking. Never sure was
+      there such a mad marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the
+      better to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his shrewish wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Baptista had provided a sumptuous marriage feast, but when they returned
+      from church, Petruchio, taking hold of Katharine, declared his intention
+      of carrying his wife home instantly, and no remonstrance of his
+      father-in-law, or angry words of the enraged Katharine, could make him
+      change his purpose. He claimed a husband&rsquo;s right to dispose of his
+      wife as he pleased, and away he hurried Katharine off; he seeming so
+      daring and resolute that no one dared attempt to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean and lank, which he
+      had picked out for the purpose, and, himself and his servant no better
+      mounted, they journeyed on through rough and miry ways, and ever when this
+      horse of Katharine&rsquo;s stumbled he would storm and swear at the poor
+      jaded beast, who could scarce crawl under his burthen, as if he had been
+      the most passionate man alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, after a weary journey, during which Katharine had heard nothing
+      but the wild ravings of Petruchio at the servant and the horses, they
+      arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed her kindly to her home, but he
+      resolved she should have neither rest nor food that night. The tables were
+      spread, and supper soon served; but Petruchio, pretending to find fault
+      with every dish, threw the meat about the floor, and ordered the servants
+      to remove it away; and all this he did, as he said, in love for his
+      Katharine, that she might not eat meat that was not well dressed. And when
+      Katharine, weary and supperless, retired to rest, he found the same fault
+      with the bed, throwing the pillows and bedclothes about the room, so that
+      she was forced to sit down in a chair, where, if, she chanced to drop
+      asleep, she was presently awakened by the loud voice of her husband
+      storming at the servants for the ill-making of his wife&rsquo;s
+      bridal-bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking kind words
+      to Katharine, but, when she attempted to eat, finding fault with
+      everything that was set before her, throwing the breakfast on the floor as
+      he had done the supper; and Katharine, the haughty Katharine, was fain to
+      beg the servants would bring her secretly a morsel of food; but they,
+      being instructed by Petruchio, replied they dared not give her anything
+      unknown to their master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;did he marry me to famish me? Beggars
+      that come to my father&rsquo;s door have food given them. But I, who never
+      knew what it was to entreat for anything, am starved for want of food,
+      giddy for want of sleep, with oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
+      and that which vexes me more than all, he does it under the name of
+      perfect love, pretending that if I sleep or eat, it were present death to
+      me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Petruchio. He, not
+      meaning she should be quite starved, had brought her a small portion of
+      meat, and he said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How fares my sweet Kate? Here, love, you see how diligent I am. I
+      have dressed your meat myself. I am sure this kindness merits thanks.
+      What, not a word? Nay, then you love not the meat, and all the pains I
+      have taken is to no purpose.&rdquo; He then ordered the servant to take
+      the dish away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katharine, made her say,
+      though angered to the heart, &ldquo;I pray you let it stand.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he replied,
+      &ldquo;The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall mine before
+      you touch the meat.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Katharine brought out a reluctant &ldquo;I thank you, sir.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying: &ldquo;Much good
+      may it do your gentle heart, Kate. Eat apace! And now, my honey love, we
+      will return to your father&rsquo;s house and revel it as bravely as the
+      best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings, with ruffs and scarfs
+      and fans and double change of finery.&rdquo; And to make her believe be
+      really intended to give her these gay things, he called in a tailor and a
+      haberdasher, who brought some new clothes he had ordered for her, and
+      then, giving her plate to the servant to take away, before she had half
+      satisfied her hunger, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, have you dined?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, &ldquo;Here is the cap your
+      worship bespoke.&rdquo; On which Petruchio began to storm afresh, saying
+      the cap was molded in a porringer and that it was no bigger than a cockle
+      or walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to take it away and make it
+      bigger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine said, &ldquo;I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps as
+      these.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you are gentle,&rdquo; replied Petruchio, &ldquo;you shall
+      have one, too, and not till then.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen spirits, and
+      she said: &ldquo;Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, and speak I
+      will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters have endured to hear me say my
+      mind; and if you cannot, you had better stop your ears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily discovered
+      a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a jangling argument with
+      her; therefore his answer was:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not
+      liking it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love me, or love me not,&rdquo; said Katharine, &ldquo;I like the
+      cap, and I will have this cap or none.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say you wish to see the gown,&rdquo; said Petruchio, still
+      affecting to misunderstand her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had made for
+      her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have neither cap nor
+      gown, found as much fault with that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, mercy, Heaven!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;what stuff is here! What,
+      do you call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down
+      like an apple tart.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tailor said, &ldquo;You bid me make it according to the fashion of the
+      times&rdquo;; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned gown.
+      This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these people might
+      be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them for the seemingly
+      strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he with fierce words and furious
+      gestures drove the tailor and the haberdasher out of the room; and then,
+      turning to Katharine, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father&rsquo;s even in
+      these mean garments we now wear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach Baptista&rsquo;s
+      house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven o&rsquo;clock. Now it was
+      not early morning, but the very middle of the day, when he spoke this;
+      therefore Katharine ventured to say, though modestly, being almost
+      overcome by the vehemence of his manner:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare assure you, sir, it is two o&rsquo;clock, and will be
+      suppertime before we get there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that she
+      should assent to everything he said before he carried her to her father;
+      and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and could command the
+      hours, he said it. should be what time he pleased to have it, before beset
+      forward. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;whatever I say or do, you
+      still are crossing it. I will not go to-day, and when I go, it shall be
+      what o&rsquo;clock I say it is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found obedience,
+      and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a perfect subjection
+      that she dared not remember there was such a word as contradiction would
+      Petruchio allow her to go to her father&rsquo;s house; and even while they
+      were upon their journey thither she was in danger of being turned back
+      again, only because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed
+      the moon shone brightly at noonday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, by my mother&rsquo;s son,&rdquo; said be, &ldquo;and that is
+      myself, it shall be the moon, or stars, or what I list, before I journey
+      to your father&rsquo;s house.&rdquo; He then made as if he were going back
+      again. But Katharine, no longer Katharine the Shrew, but the obedient
+      wife, said, &ldquo;Let us go forward, I pray, now we have come so far, and
+      it shall be the sun, or moon, or what you please; and if you please to
+      call it a rush candle henceforth, I vow it shall be so for me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This he was resolved to prove, therefore he said again, &ldquo;I say it is
+      the moon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it is the moon,&rdquo; replied Katharine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie. It is the blessed sun,&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is the blessed sun,&rdquo; replied Katharine; &ldquo;but
+      sun it is not when you say it is not. What you will have it named, even so
+      it is, and so it ever shall be for Katharine.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now then he suffered her to proceed on her journey; but further to try if
+      this yielding humor would last, he addressed an old gentleman they met on
+      the road as if he had been a young woman, saying to him, &ldquo;Good
+      morrow, gentle mistress&rdquo;; and asked Katharine if she had ever beheld
+      a fairer gentlewoman, praising the red and white of the old man&rsquo;s
+      cheeks, and comparing his eyes to two bright stars; and again he addressed
+      him, saying, &ldquo;Fair, lovely maid, once more good day to you!&rdquo;
+      and said to his wife, &ldquo;Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty&rsquo;s
+      sake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The now completely vanquished Katharine quickly adopted her husband&rsquo;s
+      opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old gentleman, saying to
+      him: &ldquo;Young budding virgin, you are fair and fresh and sweet.
+      Whither are you going, and where is your dwelling? Happy are the parents
+      of so fair a child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how now, Kate,&rdquo; said Petruchio. &ldquo;I hope you are
+      not mad. This is a man, old and wrinkled, faded and withered, and not a
+      maiden, as you say he is.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Katharine said, &ldquo;Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so
+      dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seemeth green. Now I perceive
+      you are a reverend father. I hope you will pardon me for my sad mistake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do, good old grandsire,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;and tell us
+      which way you are traveling. We shall be glad of your good company, if you
+      are going our way.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old gentleman replied: &ldquo;Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
+      your strange encounter has much amazed me. My name is Vincentio, and I am
+      going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of Lucentio, a
+      young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista&rsquo;s younger
+      daughter, Bianca, and he made Vincentio very happy by telling him the rich
+      marriage his son was about to make; and they all journeyed on pleasantly
+      together till they came to Baptista&rsquo;s house, where there was a large
+      company assembled to celebrate the wedding of Bianca and Lucentio,
+      Baptista having willingly consented to the marriage of Bianca when he had
+      got Katharine off his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast, and there
+      was present also another newly married pair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucentio, Bianca&rsquo;s husband, and Hortensio, the other new-married
+      man, could not forbear sly jests, which seemed to hint at the shrewish
+      disposition of Petruchio&rsquo;s wife, and these fond bridegrooms seemed
+      highly pleased with the mild tempers of the ladies they had chosen,
+      laughing at Petruchio for his less fortunate choice. Petruchio took little
+      notice of their jokes till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then
+      he perceived Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him, for when
+      Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than theirs,
+      the father of Katharine said, &ldquo;Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
+      I fear you have got the veriest shrew of all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I say no, and therefore, for
+      assurance that I speak the truth, let us each one send for his wife, and
+      he whose wife is most obedient to come at first when she is sent for shall
+      win a wager which we will propose.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this the other two husbands willingly consented, for they were
+      confident that their gentle wives would prove more obedient than the
+      headstrong Katharine, and they proposed a wager of twenty crowns. But
+      Petruchio merrily said he would lay as much as that upon his hawk or
+      hound, but twenty times as much upon his wife. Lucentio and Hortensio
+      raised the wager to a hundred crowns, and Lucentio first sent his servant
+      to desire Bianca would come to him. But the servant returned, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;does she say she is busy and
+      cannot come? Is that an answer for a wife?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they laughed at him, and said it would be well if Katharine did not
+      send him a worse answer. And now it was Hortensio&rsquo;s turn to send for
+      his wife; and be said to his servant, &ldquo;Go, and entreat my wife to
+      come to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh ho! entreat her!&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, then, she needs must come.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid, sir,&rdquo; said Hortensio, &ldquo;your wife will not
+      be entreated.&rdquo; But presently this civil husband looked a little
+      blank when the servant returned without his mistress; and he said to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now? Where is my wife?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the servant, &ldquo;my mistress says you have some
+      goodly jest in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come to
+      her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Worse and worse!&rdquo; said Petruchio. And then he sent his
+      servant, saying, &ldquo;Sirrah, go to your mistress and tell her I command
+      her to come to me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this summons
+      when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharine!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio, &ldquo;What is your will,
+      sir, that you send for me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your sister and Hortensio&rsquo;s wife?&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine replied, &ldquo;They sit conferring by the parlor fire.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, fetch them hither!&rdquo; said Petruchio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Away went Katharine without reply to perform her husband&rsquo;s command.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is a wonder,&rdquo; said Lucentio, &ldquo;if you talk of a
+      wonder.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so it is,&rdquo; said Hortensio. &ldquo;I marvel what it bodes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marry, peace it bodes,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;and love, and
+      quiet life, and right supremacy; and, to be short, everything that is
+      sweet and happy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine&rsquo;s father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his
+      daughter, said: &ldquo;Now, fair befall thee, son Petruchio! You have won
+      the wager, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns to her dowry, as
+      if she were another daughter, for she is changed as if she had never been.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I will win the wager better yet,
+      and show more signs of her new-built virtue and obedience.&rdquo;
+      Katharine now entering with the two ladies, he continued: &ldquo;See where
+      she comes, and brings your froward wives as prisoners to her womanly
+      persuasion. Katharine, that cap of yours does not become you; off with
+      that bauble, and throw it underfoot.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Katharine instantly took off her cap and threw it down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord!&rdquo; said Hortensio&rsquo;s wife, &ldquo;may I never have a
+      cause to sigh till I am brought to such a silly pass!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Bianca, she, too, said, &ldquo;Fie! What foolish duty call you this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this Bianca&rsquo;s husband said to her, &ldquo;I wish your duty were
+      as foolish, too! The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, has cost me a
+      hundred crowns since dinner-time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more fool you,&rdquo; said Bianca, &ldquo;for laying on my
+      duty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Katharine,&rdquo; said Petruchio, &ldquo;I charge you tell these
+      headstrong women what duty they owe their lords and husbands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And to the wonder of all present, the reformed shrewish lady spoke as
+      eloquently in praise of the wifelike duty of obedience as she had
+      practised it implicitly in a ready submission to Petruchio&rsquo;s will.
+      And Katharine once more became famous in Padua, not as heretofore as
+      Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the most obedient and duteous wife
+      in Padua.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap13"></a>THE COMEDY OF ERRORS</h2>
+    <p>
+      The states of Syracuse and Ephesus being at variance, there was a cruel
+      law made at Ephesus, ordaining that if any merchant of Syracuse was seen
+      in the city of Ephesus he was to be put to death, unless he could pay a
+      thousand marks for the ransom of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon, an old merchant of Syracuse, was discovered in the streets of
+      Ephesus, and brought before the duke, either to pay this heavy fine or
+      receive sentence of death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon had no money to pay the fine, and the duke, before he pronounced
+      the sentence of death upon him, desired him to relate the history of his
+      life, and to tell for what cause he had ventured to come to the city of
+      Ephesus, which it was death for any Syracusan merchant to enter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon said that he did not fear to die, for sorrow had made him weary of
+      his life, but that a heavier task could not have been imposed upon him
+      than to relate the events of his unfortunate life. He then began his own
+      history, in the following words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was born at Syracuse, and brought up to the profession of a
+      merchant. I married a lady, with whom I lived very happily, but, being
+      obliged to go to Epidamnum, I was detained there by my business six
+      months, and then, finding I should be obliged to stay some time longer, I
+      sent for my wife, who, as soon as she arrived, was brought to bed of two
+      sons, and what was very strange, they were both so exactly alike that it
+      was impossible to distinguish the one from the other. At the same time
+      that my wife was brought to bed of these twin boys a poor woman in the inn
+      where my wife lodged was brought to bed of two sons, and these twins were
+      as much like each other as my two sons were. The parents of these children
+      being exceeding poor, I bought the two boys and brought them up to attend
+      upon my sons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sons were very fine children, and my wife was not a little proud
+      of two such boys; and she daily wishing to return home, I unwillingly
+      agreed, and in an evil hour we got on shipboard, for we had not sailed
+      above a league from Epidamnum before a dreadful storm arose, which
+      continued with such violence that the sailors, seeing no chance of saving
+      the ship, crowded into the boat to save their own lives, leaving us alone
+      in the ship, which we every moment expected would be destroyed by the fury
+      of the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The incessant weeping of my wife and the piteous complaints of the
+      pretty babes, who, not knowing what to fear, wept for fashion, because
+      they saw their mother weep, filled me with terror for them, though I did
+      not for myself fear death; and all my thoughts were bent to contrive means
+      for their safety. I tied my youngest son to the end of a small spire mast,
+      such as seafaring men provide against storms; at the other end I bound the
+      youngest of the twin slaves, and at the same time I directed my wife how
+      to fasten the other children in like manner to another mast. She thus
+      having the care of the eldest two children, and I of the younger two, we
+      bound ourselves separately to these masts with the children; and but for
+      this contrivance we had all been lost, for the ship split on a mighty rock
+      and was dashed in pieces; and we, clinging to these slender masts, were
+      supported above the water, where I, having the care of two children, was
+      unable to assist my wife, who, with the other children, was soon separated
+      from me; but while they were yet in my sight they were taken up by a boat
+      of fishermen, from Corinth (as I supposed), and, seeing them in safety, I
+      had no care but to struggle with the wild sea-waves, to preserve my dear
+      son and the youngest slave. At length we, in our turn, were taken up by a
+      ship, and the sailors, knowing me, gave us kind welcome and assistance and
+      landed us in safety at Syracuse; but from that sad hour I have never known
+      what became of my wife and eldest child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My youngest son, and now my only care, when he was eighteen years
+      of age, began to be inquisitive after his mother and his brother, and
+      often importuned me that he might take his attendant, the young slave, who
+      had also lost his brother, and go in search of them. At length I
+      unwillingly gave consent, for, though I anxiously desired to hear tidings
+      of my wife and eldest son, yet in sending my younger one to find them I
+      hazarded the loss of him also. It is now seven years since my son left me;
+      five years have I passed in traveling through the world in search of him.
+      I have been in farthest Greece, and through the bounds of Asia, and,
+      coasting homeward, I landed here in Ephesus, being unwilling to leave any
+      place unsought that harbors men; but this day must end the story of my
+      life, and happy should I think myself in my death if I were assured my
+      wife and sons were living.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the hapless Aegeon ended the account of his misfortunes; and the
+      duke, pitying this unfortunate father who had brought upon himself this
+      great peril by his love for his lost son, said if it were not against the
+      laws, which his oath and dignity did not permit him to alter, he would
+      freely pardon him; yet, instead of dooming him to instant death, as the
+      strict letter of the law required, he would give him that day to try if he
+      could beg or borrow the money to pay the fine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This day of grace did seem no great favor to Aegeon, for, not knowing any
+      man in Ephesus, there seemed to him but little chance that any stranger
+      would lend or give him a thousand marks to pay the fine; and, helpless and
+      hopeless of any relief, he retired from the presence of the duke in the
+      custody of a jailer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon supposed he knew no person in Ephesus; but at the time he was in
+      danger of losing his life through the careful search he was making after
+      his youngest son that son, and his eldest son also, were in the city of
+      Ephesus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon&rsquo;s sons, besides being exactly alike in face and person, were
+      both named alike, being both called Antipholus, and the two twin slaves
+      were also both named Dromio. Aegeon&rsquo;s youngest son, Antipholus of
+      Syracuse, he whom the old man had come to Ephesus to seek, happened to
+      arrive at Ephesus with his slave Dromio that very same day that Aegeon
+      did; and he being also a merchant of Syracuse, he would have been in the
+      same danger that his father was, but by good fortune he met a friend who
+      told him the peril an old merchant of Syracuse was in, and advised him to
+      pass for a merchant of Epidamnum. This Antipholus agreed to do, and he was
+      sorry to hear one of his own countrymen was in this danger, but he little
+      thought this old merchant was his own father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The eldest son of Aegeon (who must be called Antipholus of Ephesus, to
+      distinguish him from his brother Antipholus of Syracuse) had lived at
+      Ephesus twenty years, and, being a rich man, was well able to have paid
+      the money for the ransom of his father&rsquo;s life; but Antipholus knew
+      nothing of his father, being so young when he was taken out of the sea
+      with his mother by the fishermen that he only remembered he had been so
+      preserved; but he had no recollection of either his father or his mother,
+      the fishermen who took up this Antipholus and his mother and the young
+      slave Dromio having carried the two children away from her (to the great
+      grief of that unhappy lady), intending to sell them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus and Dromio were sold by them to Duke Menaphon, a famous
+      warrior, who was uncle to the Duke of Ephesus, and he carried the boys to
+      Ephesus when he went to visit the duke, his nephew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke of Ephesus, taking a liking to young Antipholus, when he grew up
+      made him an officer in his army, in which he distinguished himself by his
+      great bravery in the wars, where he saved the life of his patron, the
+      duke, who rewarded his merit by marrying him to Adriana, a rich lady of
+      Ephesus, with whom he was living (his slave Dromio still attending him) at
+      the time his father came there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse, when he parted with his friend, who, advised him
+      to say he came from Epidamnum, gave his slave Dromio some money to carry
+      to the inn where he intended to dine, and in the mean time he said he
+      would walk about and view the city and observe the manners of the people.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio was a pleasant fellow, and when Antipholus was dull and melancholy
+      he used to divert himself with the odd humors and merry jests of his
+      slave, so that the freedoms of speech he allowed in Dromio were greater
+      than is usual between masters and their servants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Antipholus of Syracuse had sent Dromio away, he stood awhile thinking
+      over his solitary wanderings in search of his mother and his brother, of
+      whom in no place where he landed could he hear the least tidings; and he
+      said sorrowfully to himself, &ldquo;I am like a drop of water in the
+      ocean. which, seeking to find its fellow drop, loses itself in the wide
+      sea, So I, unhappily, to find a mother and a brother, do lose myself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was thus meditating on his weary travels, which had hitherto been
+      so useless, Dromio (as he thought) returned. Antipholus, wondering that he
+      came back so soon, asked him where he had left the money. Now it was not
+      his own Dromio, but the twin-brother that lived with Antipholus of
+      Ephesus, that he spoke to. The two Dromios and the two Antipholuses were
+      still as much alike as Aegeon had said they were in their infancy;
+      therefore no wonder Antipholus thought it was his own slave returned, and
+      asked him why he came back so soon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio replied: &ldquo;My mistress sent me to bid you come to dinner. The
+      capon burns, and the pig falls from the spit, and the meat will be all
+      cold if you do not come home.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These jests are out of season,&rdquo; said Antipholus. &ldquo;Where
+      did you leave the money?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio still answering that his mistress had sent him to fetch Antipholus
+      to dinner, &ldquo;What mistress?&rdquo; said Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, your worship&rsquo;s wife, sir!&rdquo; replied Dromio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus having no wife, he was very angry with Dromio, and said:
+      &ldquo;Because I familiarly sometimes chat with you, you presume to jest
+      with me in this free manner. I am not in a sportive humor now. Where is
+      the money? We being strangers here, how dare you trust so great a charge
+      from your own custody?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dromio, hearing his master, as he thought him, talk of their being
+      strangers, supposing Antipholus was jesting, replied, merrily: &ldquo;I
+      pray you, sir, jest as you sit at dinner. I had no charge but to fetch you
+      home to dine with my mistress and her sister.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Antipholus lost all patience, and beat Dromio, who ran home and told
+      his mistress that his master had refused to come to dinner and said that
+      he had no wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, the wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, was very angry when she heard
+      that her husband said he had no wife; for she was of a jealous temper, and
+      she said her husband meant that he loved another lady better than herself;
+      and she began to fret, and say unkind words of jealousy and reproach of
+      her husband; and her sister Luciana, who lived with her, tried in vain to
+      persuade her out of her groundless suspicions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse went to the inn, and found Dromio with the money in
+      safety there, and, seeing his own Dromio, he was going again to chide him
+      for his free jests, when Adriana came up to him, and, not doubting but it
+      was her husband she saw, she began to reproach him for looking strange
+      upon her (as well he might, never having seen this angry lady before); and
+      then she told him how well he loved her before they were married, and that
+      now he loved some other lady instead of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How comes it now, my husband,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;oh, how comes
+      it that I have lost your love?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plead you to me, fair dame?&rdquo; said the astonished Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in vain he told her he was not her husband and that he had been in
+      Ephesus but two hours. She insisted on his going home with her, and
+      Antipholus at last, being unable to get away, went with her to his brother&rsquo;s
+      house, and dined with Adriana and her sister, the one calling him husband
+      and the other brother, he, all amazed, thinking he must have been married
+      to her in his sleep, or that he was sleeping now. And Dromio, who followed
+      them, was no less surprised, for the cook-maid, who was his brother&rsquo;s
+      wife, also claimed him for her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Antipholus of Syracuse was dining with his brother&rsquo;s wife, his
+      brother, the real husband, returned home to dinner with his slave Dromio;
+      but the servants would not open the door, because their mistress had
+      ordered them not to admit any company; and when they repeatedly knocked,
+      and said they were Antipholus and Dromio, the maids laughed at them, and
+      said that Antipholus was at dinner with their mistress, and Dromio was in
+      the kitchen, and though they almost knocked the door down, they could not
+      gain admittance, and at last Antipholus went away very angry, and
+      strangely surprised at, hearing a gentleman was dining with his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Antipholus of Syracuse had finished his dinner, he was so perplexed
+      at the lady&rsquo;s still persisting in calling him husband, and at
+      hearing that Dromio had also been claimed by the cookmaid, that he left
+      the house as soon as he could find any pretense to get away; for though he
+      was very much pleased with Luciana, the sister, yet the jealous-tempered
+      Adriana he disliked very much, nor was Dromio at all better satisfied with
+      his fair wife in the kitchen; therefore both master and man were glad to
+      get away from their new wives as fast as they could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment Antipholus of Syracuse had left the house he was met by a
+      goldsmith, who, mistaking him, as Adriana had done, for Antipholus of
+      Ephesus, gave him a gold chain, calling him by his name; and when
+      Antipholus would have refused the chain, saying it did not belong to him,
+      the goldsmith replied he made it by his own orders, and went away, leaving
+      the chain in the hands of Antipholus, who ordered his man Dromio to get
+      his things on board a ship, not choosing to stay in a place any longer
+      where he met with such strange adventures that he surely thought himself
+      bewitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The goldsmith who had given the chain to the wrong Antipholus was arrested
+      immediately after for a sum of money he owed; and Antipholus, the married
+      brother, to whom the goldsmith thought he had given the chain, happened to
+      come to the place where the officer was arresting the goldsmith, who, when
+      he saw Antipholus, asked him to pay for the gold chain he had just
+      delivered to him, the price amounting to nearly the same sum as that for
+      which he had been arrested. Antipholus denying the having received the
+      chain, and the goldsmith persisting to declare that he had but a few
+      minutes before given it to him, they disputed this matter a long time,
+      both thinking they were right; for Antipholus knew the goldsmith never
+      gave him the chain, and so like were the two brothers, the goldsmith was
+      as certain he had delivered the chain into his hands, till at last the
+      officer took the goldsmith away to prison for the debt he owed, and at the
+      same time the goldsmith made the officer arrest Antipholus for the price
+      of the chain; so that at the conclusion of their dispute Antipholus and
+      the merchant were both taken away to prison together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Antipholus was going to prison, he met Dromio of Syracuse, his brother&rsquo;s
+      slave, and, mistaking him for his own, he ordered him to go to Adriana his
+      wife, and tell her to send the money for which he was arrested. Dromio,
+      wondering that his master should send him back to the strange house where
+      he dined, and from which he had just before been in such haste to depart,
+      did not dare to reply, though he came to tell his master the ship was
+      ready to sail, for he saw Antipholus was in no humor to be jested with.
+      Therefore he went away, grumbling within himself that he must return to
+      Adriana&rsquo;s house, &ldquo;Where,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;Dowsabel
+      claims me for a husband. But I must go, for servants must obey their
+      masters&rsquo; commands.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana gave him the money, and as Dromio was returning he met Antipholus
+      of Syracuse, who was still in amaze at the surprising adventures he met
+      with, for, his brother being well known in Ephesus, there was hardly a man
+      he met in the streets but saluted him as an old acquaintance. Some offered
+      him money which they said was owing to him, some invited him to come and
+      see them, and some gave him thanks for kindnesses they said he had done
+      them, all mistaking him for his brother. A tailor showed him some silks he
+      had bought for him, and insisted upon taking measure of him for some
+      clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus began to think he was among a nation of sorcerers and witches,
+      and Dromio did not at all relieve his master from his bewildered thoughts
+      by asking him how he got free from the officer who was carrying him to
+      prison, and giving him the purse of gold which Adriana had sent to pay the
+      debt with. This talk of Dromio&rsquo;s of the arrest and of a prison, and
+      of the money he had brought from Adriana, perfectly confounded Antipholus,
+      and he said, &ldquo;This fellow Dromio is certainly distracted, and we
+      wander here in illusions,&rdquo; and, quite terrified at his own confused
+      thoughts, he cried out, &ldquo;Some blessed power deliver us from this
+      strange place!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now another stranger came up to him, and she was a lady, and she, too,
+      called him Antipholus, and told him he had dined with her that day, and
+      asked him for a gold chain which she said he had promised to give her.
+      Antipholus now lost all patience, and, calling her a sorceress, he denied
+      that he had ever promised her a chain, or dined with her, or had even seen
+      her face before that moment. The lady persisted in affirming he had dined
+      with her and had promised her a chain, which Antipholus still denying, she
+      further said that she had given him a valuable ring, and if he would not
+      give her the gold chain, she insisted upon having her own ring again. On
+      this Antipholus became quite frantic, and again calling her sorceress and
+      witch, and denying all knowledge of her or her ring, ran away from her,
+      leaving her astonished at his words and his wild looks, for nothing to her
+      appeared more certain than that he had dined with her, and that she had
+      given him a ring in consequence of his promising to make her a present of
+      a gold chain. But this lady had fallen into the same mistake the others
+      had done, for she had taken him for his brother; the married Antipholus
+      had done all the things she taxed this Antipholus with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the married Antipholus was denied entrance into his house (those
+      within supposing him to be already there) be had gone away very angry,
+      believing it to be one of his wife&rsquo;s jealous freaks, to which she
+      was very subject, and, remembering that she had often falsely accused him
+      of visiting other ladies, he, to be revenged on her for shutting him out
+      of his own house, determined to go and dine with this lady, and she
+      receiving him with great civility, and his wife having so highly offended
+      him, Antipholus promised to give her a gold chain which he had intended as
+      a present for his wife; it was the same chain which the goldsmith by
+      mistake had given to his brother. The lady liked so well the thoughts of
+      having a fine gold chain that she gave the married Antipholus a ring;
+      which when, as she supposed (taking his brother for him), he denied, and
+      said he did not know her, and left her in such a wild passion, she began
+      to think he was certainly out of his senses; and presently she resolved to
+      go and tell Adriana that her husband was mad. And while she was telling it
+      to Adriana he came, attended by the jailer (who allowed him to come home
+      to get the money to pay the debt), for the purse of money which Adriana
+      had sent by Dromio and he had delivered to the other Antipholus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana believed the story the lady told her of her husband&rsquo;s
+      madness must be true when he reproached her for shutting him out of his
+      own house; and remembering how he had protested all dinner-time that he
+      was not her husband and had never been in Ephesus till that day, she had
+      no doubt that he was mad; she therefore paid the jailer the money, and,
+      having discharged him, she ordered her servants to bind her husband with
+      ropes, and had him conveyed into a dark room, and sent for a doctor to
+      come and cure him of his madness, Antipholus all the while hotly
+      exclaiming against this false accusation, which the exact likeness he bore
+      to his brother had brought upon him. But his rage only the more confirmed
+      them in the belief that he was mad; and Dromio persisting in the same
+      story, they bound him also and took him away along with his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon after Adriana had put her husband into confinement a servant came to
+      tell her that Antipholus and Dromio must have broken loose from their
+      keepers, for that they were both walking at liberty in the next street. On
+      hearing this Adriana ran out to fetch him home, taking some people with
+      her to secure her husband again; and her sister went along with her. When
+      they came to the gates of a convent in their neighborhood, there they saw
+      Antipholus and Dromio, as they thought, being again deceived by the
+      likeness of the twin brothers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse was still beset with the perplexities this likeness
+      had brought upon him. The chain which the goldsmith had given him was
+      about his neck, and the goldsmith was reproaching him for denying that he
+      had it and refusing to pay for it, and Antipholus was protesting that the
+      goldsmith freely gave him the chain in the morning, and that from that
+      hour he had never seen the goldsmith again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Adriana came up to him and claimed him as her lunatic husband who
+      had escaped from his keepers, and the men she brought with her were going
+      to lay violent hands on Antipholus and Dromio; but they ran into the
+      convent, and Antipholus begged the abbess to give him shelter in her
+      house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now came out the lady abbess herself to inquire into the cause of this
+      disturbance. She was a grave and venerable lady, and wise to judge of what
+      she saw, and she would not too hastily give up the man who had sought
+      protection in her house; so she strictly questioned the wife about the
+      story she told of her husband&rsquo;s madness, and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the cause of this sudden distemper of your husband&rsquo;s?
+      Has he lost his wealth at sea? Or is it the death of some dear friend that
+      has disturbed his mind?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana replied that no such things as these had been the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said the abbess, &ldquo;he has fixed his affections
+      on some other lady than you, his wife, and that has driven him to this
+      state.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana said she had long thought the love of some other lady was the
+      cause of his frequent absences from home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now it was not his love for another, but the teasing jealousy of his wife&rsquo;s
+      temper, that often obliged Antipholus to leave his home; and the abbess
+      (suspecting this from the vehemence of Adriana&rsquo;s manner), to learn
+      the truth, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should have reprehended him for this.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, so I did,&rdquo; replied Adriana.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said the abbess, &ldquo;but perhaps not enough.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, willing to convince the abbess that she had said enough to
+      Antipholus on this subject, replied: &ldquo;It was the constant subject of
+      our conversation; in bed I would not let him sleep for speaking of it. At
+      table I would not let him eat for speaking of it. When I was alone with
+      him I talked of nothing else; and in company I gave him frequent hints of
+      it. Still all my talk was how vile and bad it was in him to love any lady
+      better than me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady abbess, having drawn this full confession from the jealous
+      Adriana, now said: &ldquo;And therefore comes it that your husband is mad.
+      The venomous clamor of a jealous woman is a more deadly poison than a mad
+      dog&rsquo;s tooth. It seems his sleep was hindered by your railing; no
+      wonder that his head is light; and his meat was sauced with your
+      upbraidings; unquiet meals make ill digestions, and that has thrown him
+      into this fever. You say his sports were disturbed by your brawls; being
+      debarred from the enjoyment of society and recreation, what could ensue
+      but dull melancholy and comfortless despair? The consequence is, then,
+      that your jealous fits have made your husband mad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Luciana would have excused her sister, saying she always reprehended her
+      husband mildly; and she said to her sister, &ldquo;Why do you hear these
+      rebukes without answering them?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the abbess had made her so plainly perceive her fault that she could
+      only answer, &ldquo;She has betrayed me to my own reproof.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana, though ashamed of her own conduct, still insisted on having her
+      husband delivered up to her; but the abbess would suffer no person to
+      enter her house, nor would she deliver up this unhappy man to the care of
+      the jealous wife, determining herself to use gentle means for his
+      recovery, and she retired into her house again, and ordered her gates to
+      be shut against them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the course of this eventful day, in which so many errors had
+      happened from the likeness the twin brothers bore to each other, old
+      Aegeon&rsquo;s day of grace was passing away, it being now near sunset;
+      and at sunset he was doomed to die if he could not pay the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The place of his execution was near this convent, and here he arrived just
+      as the abbess retired into the convent; the duke attending in person,
+      that, if any offered to pay the money, he might be present to pardon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana stopped this melancholy procession, and cried out to the duke for
+      justice, telling him that the abbess had refused to deliver up her lunatic
+      husband to her care. While she was speaking, her real husband and his
+      servant, Dromio, who had got loose, came before the duke to demand
+      justice, complaining that his wife had confined him on a false charge of
+      lunacy, and telling in what manner he had broken his bands and eluded the
+      vigilance of his keepers. Adriana was strangely surprised to see her
+      husband when she thought he had been within the convent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left him to go
+      in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt secure that this dear
+      son would readily pay the money demanded for his ransom. He therefore
+      spoke to Antipholus in words of fatherly affection, with joyful hope that
+      he should now be released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his
+      son denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this Antipholus had
+      never seen his father since they were separated in the storm in his
+      infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in vain endeavoring to make his
+      son acknowledge him, thinking surely that either his griefs and the
+      anxieties he had suffered had so strangely altered him that his son did
+      not know him or else that he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his
+      misery&mdash;in the midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other
+      Antipholus and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands
+      and two Dromios standing before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all, were
+      clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and the two
+      Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured aright of these
+      seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story Aegeon had told him in the
+      morning; and he said these men must be the two sons of Aegeon and their
+      twin slaves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of Aegeon; and
+      the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and under sentence of
+      death, before the setting sun went down was brought to a happy conclusion,
+      for the venerable lady abbess made herself known to be the long-lost wife
+      of Aegeon and the fond mother of the two Antipholuses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away from her,
+      she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous conduct she was at
+      length made lady abbess of this convent and in discharging the rites of
+      hospitality to an unhappy stranger she had unknowingly protected her own
+      son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these
+      long-separated parents and their children made them for a while forget
+      that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they were become a
+      little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke the ransom money for
+      his father&rsquo;s life; but the duke freely pardoned Aegeon, and would
+      not take the money. And the duke went with the abbess and her newly found
+      husband and children into the convent, to hear this happy family discourse
+      at leisure of the blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two
+      Dromios&rsquo; humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their
+      congratulations and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly
+      complimented his brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his
+      own person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her mother-in-law that
+      she never after cherished unjust suspicions nor was jealous of her
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of his brother&rsquo;s
+      wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and sons, lived at Ephesus
+      many years. Nor did the unraveling of these perplexities so entirely
+      remove every ground of mistake for the future but that sometimes, to
+      remind them of adventures past, comical blunders would happen, and the one
+      Antipholus, and the one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making
+      altogether a pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap14"></a>MEASURE FOR MEASURE</h2>
+    <p>
+      In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild and gentle
+      temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the laws with impunity;
+      and there was in particular one law the existence of which was almost
+      forgotten, the duke never having put it in force during his whole reign.
+      This was a law dooming any man to the punishment of death who should live
+      with a woman that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of
+      the duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage
+      became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke by the
+      parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters had been
+      seduced from their protection and were living as the companions of single
+      men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his subjects;
+      but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the indulgence he had
+      hitherto shown, to the strict severity requisite to check this abuse,
+      would make his people (who had hitherto loved him) consider him as a
+      tyrant; therefore he determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom
+      and depute another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against
+      these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving offense
+      by an unusual severity in his own person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for his strict
+      and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person to undertake this
+      important charge; and when the duke imparted his design to Lord Escalus,
+      his chief counselor, Escalus said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and
+      honor, it is Lord Angelo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a journey
+      into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in his absence; but
+      the duke&rsquo;s absence was only a feigned one, for he privately returned
+      to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the intent to watch unseen the
+      conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his new
+      dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced a young lady
+      from her parents; and for this offense, by command of the new lord deputy,
+      Claudio was taken up and committed to prison, and by virtue of the old law
+      which had been so long neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded.
+      Great interest was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old
+      Lord Escalus himself interceded for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this gentleman whom I would save had
+      an honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young man&rsquo;s
+      transgression.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Angelo replied: &ldquo;We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+      setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it harmless,
+      makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and Claudio said
+      to him: &ldquo;I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service. Go to my sister
+      Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the convent of Saint Clare;
+      acquaint her with the danger of my state; implore her that she make
+      friends with the strict deputy; bid her go herself to Angelo. I have great
+      hopes in that; for she can discourse with prosperous art, and well she can
+      persuade; besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such
+      as moves men.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered upon her
+      novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after passing through her
+      probation as a novice, to take the veil, and she was inquiring of a nun
+      concerning the rules of the convent when they heard the voice of Lucio,
+      who, as he entered that religious house, said, &ldquo;Peace be in this
+      place!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it that speaks?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a man&rsquo;s voice,&rdquo; replied the nun. &ldquo;Gentle
+      Isabel, go to him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you
+      have taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence of
+      the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face, or if you
+      show your face you must not speak.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And have you nuns no further privileges?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are not these large enough?&rdquo; replied the nun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, truly,&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;I speak not as desiring
+      more, but rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the
+      votarists of Saint Clare.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: &ldquo;He calls
+      again. I pray you answer him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation, said:
+      &ldquo;Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: &ldquo;Hail, virgin, if
+      such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no less! Can you
+      bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this place, and the fair
+      sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why her unhappy brother?&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;let me ask! for
+      I am that Isabel and his sister.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fair and gentle lady,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;your brother kindly
+      greets you by me; he is in prison.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Woe is me! for what?&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio then told her Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young maiden.
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I fear it is my cousin Juliet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other cousin in
+      remembrance of their school-days&rsquo; friendship; and as Isabel knew
+      that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been led by her affection
+      for him into this transgression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She it is,&rdquo; replied Lucio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, let my brother marry Juliet,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucio replied that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that the lord
+      deputy had sentenced him to die for his offense. &ldquo;Unless,&rdquo;
+      said he, &ldquo;you have the grace by your fair prayer to soften Angelo,
+      and that is my business between you and your poor brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;what poor ability is there in me
+      to do him good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our doubts are traitors,&rdquo; said Lucio, &ldquo;and make us lose
+      the good we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to Lord Angelo!
+      When maidens sue and kneel and weep men give like gods.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will see what I can do said Isabel. &ldquo;I will but stay to
+      give the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.
+      Commend me to my brother. Soon at night I will send him word of my
+      success.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel hastened to the palace and threw herself on her knees before
+      Angelo, saying, &ldquo;I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, if it will
+      please your Honor to hear me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is your suit?&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her brother&rsquo;s
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Angelo said, &ldquo;Maiden, there is no remedy; your brother is
+      sentenced, and he must die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, just but severe law!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;I had a brother
+      then. Heaven keep your Honor!&rdquo; and she was about to depart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said: &ldquo;Give it not over so;
+      return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang upon his
+      gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you could not with a
+      more tame tongue desire it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is sentenced,&rdquo; said Angelo. &ldquo;It is too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Why, no! I that do speak a
+      word may call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
+      great ones belongs, not the king&rsquo;s crown, nor the deputed sword, the
+      marshal&rsquo;s truncheon, nor the judge&rsquo;s robe, becomes them with
+      one half so good a grace as mercy does.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray you begone,&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But still Isabel entreated; and she said: &ldquo;If my brother had been as
+      you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he, like you,
+      would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had your power and you
+      were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I would tell you what it were to
+      be a judge, and what a prisoner.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be content, fair maid!&rdquo; said Angelo: &ldquo;it is the law,
+      not I, condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son,
+      it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow?&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Oh, that is sudden! Spare
+      him, spare him. He is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we
+      kill the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than we
+      minister to our gross selves? Good, good, my lord, bethink you, none have
+      died for my brother&rsquo;s offense, though many have committed it. So you
+      would be the first that gives this sentence and he the first that suffers
+      it. Go to your own bosom, my lord; knock there, and ask your heart what it
+      does know that is like my brother&rsquo;s fault; if it confess a natural
+      guiltiness such as his is, let it not sound a thought against my brother&rsquo;s
+      life!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her last words more moved Angelo than all she had before said, for the
+      beauty of Isabel had raised a guilty passion in his heart and he began to
+      form thoughts of dishonorable love, such as Claudio&rsquo;s crime had
+      been, and the conflict in his mind made him to turn away from Isabel; but
+      she called him back, saying: &ldquo;Gentle my lord, turn back. Hark, how I
+      will bribe you. Good my lord, turn back!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How! bribe me?&rdquo; said Angelo, astonished that she should think
+      of offering him a bribe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;with such gifts that Heaven itself
+      shall share with you; not with golden treasures, or those glittering
+      stones whose price is either rich or poor as fancy values them, but with
+      true prayers that shall be up to Heaven before sunrise&mdash;prayers from
+      preserved souls, from fasting maids whose minds are dedicated to nothing
+      temporal.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come to me to-morrow,&rdquo; said Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And for this short respite of her brother&rsquo;s life, and for this
+      permission that she might be heard again, she left him with the joyful
+      hope that she should at last prevail over his stern nature. And as she
+      went away she said: &ldquo;Heaven keep your Honor safe! Heaven save your
+      Honor!&rdquo; Which, when Angelo heard, he said within his heart, &ldquo;Amen,
+      I would be saved from thee and from thy virtues.&rdquo; And then,
+      affrighted at his own evil thoughts, he said: &ldquo;What is this? What is
+      this? Do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again and feast upon
+      her eyes? What is it I dream on? The cunning enemy of mankind, to catch a
+      saint, with saints does bait the hook. Never could an immodest woman once
+      stir my temper, but this virtuous woman subdues me quite. Even till now,
+      when men were fond, I smiled and wondered at them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the guilty conflict in his mind Angelo suffered more that night than
+      the prisoner he had so severely sentenced; for in the prison Claudio was
+      visited by the good duke, who, in his friar&rsquo;s habit, taught the
+      young man the way to heaven, preaching to him the words of penitence and
+      peace. But Angelo felt all the pangs of irresolute guilt, now wishing to
+      seduce Isabel from the paths of innocence and honor, and now suffering
+      remorse and horror for a crime as yet but intentional. But in the end his
+      evil thoughts prevailed; and he who had so lately started at the offer of
+      a bribe resolved to tempt this maiden with so high a bribe as she might
+      not be able to resist, even with the precious gift of her dear brother&rsquo;s
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Isabel came in the morning Angelo desired she might be admitted alone
+      to his presence; and being there, he said to her, if she would yield to
+      him her virgin honor and transgress even as Juliet had done with Claudio,
+      he would give her her brother&rsquo;s life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I love you, Isabel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;did so love Juliet, and yet
+      you tell me he shall die for it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Angelo, &ldquo;Claudio shall not die if you will
+      consent to visit me by stealth at night, even as Juliet left her father&rsquo;s
+      house at night to come to Claudio.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, in amazement at his words, that he should tempt her to the same
+      fault for which he passed sentence upon her brother, said, &ldquo;I would
+      do as much for my poor brother as for myself; that is, were I under
+      sentence of death, the impression of keen whips I would wear as rubies,
+      and go to my death as to a bed that longing I had been sick for, ere I
+      would yield myself up to this shame.&rdquo; And then she told him she
+      hoped he only spoke these words to try her virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he said, &ldquo;Believe me, on my honor, my words express my purpose.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, angered to the heart to hear him use the word honor to express
+      such dishonorable purposes, said: &ldquo;Ha! little honor to be much
+      believed; and most pernicious purpose. I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look
+      for it! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or I will tell the world
+      aloud what man thou art!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who will believe you, Isabel?&rdquo; said Angelo; &ldquo;my
+      unsoiled name, the austereness of my life, my word vouched against yours,
+      will outweigh your accusation. Redeem your brother by yielding to my will,
+      or he shall die to-morrow. As for you, say what you can, my false will
+      overweigh your true story. Answer me to-morrow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe me?&rdquo;
+      said Isabel, as she went toward the dreary prison where her brother was
+      confined. When she arrived there her brother was in pious conversation
+      with the duke, who in his friar&rsquo;s habit had also visited Juliet and
+      brought both these guilty lovers to a proper sense of their fault; and
+      unhappy Juliet with tears and a true remorse confessed that she was more
+      to blame than Claudio, in that she willingly consented to his dishonorable
+      solicitations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Isabel entered the room where Claudio was confined, she said, &ldquo;Peace
+      be here, grace, and good company!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; said the disguised duke. &ldquo;Come in; the
+      wish deserves a welcome.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My business is a word or two with Claudio,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke left them together, and desired the provost who had the
+      charge of the prisoners to place him where he might overhear their
+      conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, sister, what is the comfort?&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel told him he must prepare for death on the morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there no remedy?&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, brother,&rdquo; replied Isabel, &ldquo;there is; but such a
+      one as if you consented to it would strip your honor from you and leave
+      you naked.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me know the point,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I do fear you, Claudio!&rdquo; replied his sister; &ldquo;and I
+      quake, lest you should wish to live, and more respect the trifling term of
+      six or seven winters added to your life than your perpetual honor! Do you
+      dare to die? The sense of death is most in apprehension, and the poor
+      beetle that we tread upon feels a pang as great as when a giant dies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you give me this shame?&rdquo; said Claudio. &ldquo;Think
+      you I can fetch a resolution from flowery tenderness? If I must die, I
+      will encounter darkness as a bride and hug it in my arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There spoke my brother,&rdquo; said Isabel; &ldquo;there my father&rsquo;s
+      grave did utter forth a voice! Yes, you must die; yet would you think it,
+      Claudio, this outward sainted deputy, if I would yield to him my virgin
+      honor, would grant your life? Oh, were it but my life, I would lay it down
+      for your deliverance as frankly as a pin!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, dear Isabel,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be ready to die to-morrow,&rdquo; said Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Death is a fearful thing,&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And shamed life a hateful,&rdquo; replied his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the thoughts of death now overcame the constancy of Claudio&rsquo;s
+      temper, and terrors, such as the guilty only at their deaths do know,
+      assailing him, he cried out: &ldquo;Sweet sister, let me live! The sin you
+      do to save a brother&rsquo;s life, nature dispenses with the deed so far
+      that it becomes a virtue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!&rdquo; said Isabel. &ldquo;Would
+      you preserve your life by your sister&rsquo;s shame? Oh, fie, fie, fie! I
+      thought, my brother, you had in you such a mind of honor that, had you
+      twenty heads to render up on twenty blocks, you would have yielded them up
+      all before your sister should stoop to such dishonor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, hear me, Isabel!&rdquo; said Claudio.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what he would have said in defense of his weakness in desiring to live
+      by the dishonor of his virtuous sister was interrupted by the entrance of
+      the duke; who said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Claudio, I have overheard what has passed between you and your
+      sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; what he said, has
+      only been to make trial of her virtue. She, having the truth of honor in
+      her, has given him that gracious denial which he is most ill glad to
+      receive. There is no hope that he will pardon you; therefore pass your
+      hours in prayer, and make ready for death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Claudio repented of his weakness, and said: &ldquo;Let me ask my
+      sister&rsquo;s pardon! I am so out of love with life that I will sue to be
+      rid of it.&rdquo; And Claudio retired, overwhelmed with shame and sorrow
+      for his fault.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, being now alone with Isabel, commended her virtuous resolution,
+      saying, &ldquo;The hand that made you fair has made you good.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;how much is the good duke deceived
+      in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will discover his
+      government.&rdquo; Isabel knew not that she was even now making the
+      discovery she threatened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;That shall not be much amiss; yet as the matter
+      now stands, Angelo will repel your accusation; therefore lend an attentive
+      ear to my advisings. I believe that you may most righteously do a poor
+      wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem your brother from the angry law, do
+      no stain to your own most gracious person, and much please the absent
+      duke, if peradventure he shall ever return to have notice of this
+      business.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel said she had a spirit to do anything he desired, provided it was
+      nothing wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Virtue is bold and never fearful,&rdquo; said the duke: and then he
+      asked her, if she had ever heard of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the
+      great soldier who was drowned at sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard of the lady,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;and good words
+      went with her name.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This lady,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;is the wife of Angelo; but
+      her marriage dowry was on board the vessel in which her brother perished,
+      and mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman! for, besides the
+      loss of a most noble and renowned brother, who in his love toward her was
+      ever most kind and natural, in the wreck of her fortune she lost the
+      affections of her husband, the well-seeming Angelo, who, pretending to
+      discover some dishonor in this honorable lady (though the true cause was
+      the loss of her dowry), left her in her tears and dried not one of them
+      with his comfort. His unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have
+      quenched her love, has, like an impediment in the current, made it more
+      unruly, and Mariana loves her cruel husband with the full continuance of
+      her first affection.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then more plainly unfolded his plan. It was that Isabel should go
+      to Lord Angelo and seemingly consent to come to him as he desired at
+      midnight; that by this means she would obtain the promised pardon; and
+      that Mariana should go in her stead to the appointment, and pass herself
+      upon Angelo in the dark for Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor, gentle daughter,&rdquo; said the feigned friar, &ldquo;fear
+      you to this thing. Angelo is her husband, and to bring them thus together
+      is no sin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel, being pleased with this project, departed to do as he directed
+      her; and he went to apprise Mariana of their intention. He had before this
+      time visited this unhappy lady in his assumed character, giving her
+      religious instruction and friendly consolation, at which times he had
+      learned her sad story from her own lips; and now she, looking upon him as
+      a holy man, readily consented to be directed by him in this undertaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Isabel returned from her interview with Angelo, to the house of
+      Mariana, where the duke had appointed her to meet him, he said: &ldquo;Well
+      met, and in good time. What is the news from this good deputy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Isabel related the manner in which she had settled the affair. &ldquo;Angelo,&rdquo;
+      said she, &ldquo;has a garden surrounded with a brick wall, on the western
+      side of which is a vineyard, and to that vineyard is a gate.&rdquo; And
+      then she showed to the duke and Mariana two keys that Angelo had given
+      her; and she said: &ldquo;This bigger key opens the vineyard gate; this
+      other a little door which leads from the vineyard to the garden. There I
+      have made my promise at the dead of the night to call upon him, and have
+      got from him his word of assurance for my brother&rsquo;s life. I have
+      taken a due and wary note of the place; and with whispering and most
+      guilty diligence he showed me the way twice over.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there no other tokens agreed upon between you, that Mariana
+      must observe?&rdquo; said the duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, none,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;only to go when it is dark. I
+      have told him my time can be but short; for I have made him think a
+      servant comes along with me, and that this servant is persuaded I come
+      about my brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke commended her discreet management, and she, turning to Mariana,
+      said, &ldquo;Little have you to say to Angelo, when you depart from him,
+      but soft and low, REMEMBER NOW MY BROTHER!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mariana was that night conducted to the appointed place by Isabel, who
+      rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by this device preserved both her
+      brother&rsquo;s life and her own honor. But that her brother&rsquo;s life
+      was safe the duke was not well satisfied, and therefore at midnight he
+      again repaired to the prison, and it was well for Claudio that he did so,
+      else would Claudio have that night been beheaded; for soon after the duke
+      entered the prison an order came from the cruel deputy commanding that
+      Claudio should be beheaded and his head sent to him by five o&rsquo;clock
+      in the morning. But the duke persuaded the provost to put off the
+      execution of Claudio, and to deceive Angelo by sending him the head of a
+      man who died that morning in the prison. And to prevail upon the provost
+      to agree to this, the duke, whom still the provost suspected not to be
+      anything more or greater than he seemed, showed the provost a letter
+      written with the duke&rsquo;s hand, and sealed with his seal, which when
+      the provost saw, he concluded this friar must have some secret order from
+      the absent duke, and therefore he consented to spare Claudio; and he cut
+      off the dead man&rsquo;s head and carried it to Angelo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke in his own name wrote to Angelo a letter saying that certain
+      accidents had put a stop to his journey and that he should be in Vienna by
+      the following morning, requiring Angelo to meet him at the entrance of the
+      city, there to deliver up his authority; and the duke also commanded it to
+      be proclaimed that if any of his subjects craved redress for injustice
+      they should exhibit their petitions in the street on his first entrance
+      into the city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the morning Isabel came to the prison, and the duke, who there
+      awaited her coming, for secret reasons thought it good to tell her that
+      Claudio was beheaded; therefore when Isabel inquired if Angelo had sent
+      the pardon for her brother, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Angelo has released Claudio from this world. His head is off and
+      sent to the deputy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The much-grieved sister cried out, &ldquo;O unhappy Claudio, wretched
+      Isabel, injurious world, most wicked Angelo!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The seeming friar bid her take comfort, and when she was become a little
+      calm he acquainted her with the near prospect of the duke&rsquo;s return
+      and told her in what manner she should proceed in preferring her complaint
+      against Angelo; and he bade her not fear if the cause should seem to go
+      against her for a while. Leaving Isabel sufficiently instructed, he next
+      went to Mariana and gave her counsel in what manner she also should act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the duke laid aside his friar&rsquo;s habit, and in his own royal
+      robes, amid a joyful crowd of his faithful subjects assembled to greet his
+      arrival, entered the city of Vienna, where he was met by Angelo, who
+      delivered up his authority in the proper form. And there came Isabel, in
+      the manner of a petitioner for redress, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Justice, most royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who, for
+      the seducing a young maid, was condemned to lose his head. I made my suit
+      to lord Angelo for my brother&rsquo;s pardon. It were needless to tell
+      your Grace how I prayed and kneeled, how he repelled me, and how I
+      replied; for this was of much length. The vile conclusion I now begin with
+      grief and pain to utter. Angelo would not, but by my yielding to his
+      dishonorable love, release my brother; and after much debate within myself
+      my sisterly remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him. But the
+      next morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his promise, sent a warrant for
+      my poor brother&rsquo;s head!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke affected to disbelieve her story; and Angelo said that grief for
+      her brother&rsquo;s death, who had suffered by the due course of the law,
+      had disordered her senses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now another suitor approached, which was Mariana; and Mariana said:
+      &ldquo;Noble prince, as there comes light from heaven and truth from
+      breath, as there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am this man&rsquo;s
+      wife, and, my good lord, the words of Isabel are false, for the night she
+      says she was with Angelo I passed that night with him in the garden-house.
+      As this is true let me in safety rise, or else forever be fixed here a
+      marble monument.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then did Isabel appeal for the truth of what she had said to Friar
+      Lodowick, that being the name the duke had assumed in his disguise. Isabel
+      and Mariana had both obeyed his instructions in what they said, the duke
+      intending that the innocence of Isabel should be plainly proved in that
+      public manner before the whole city of Vienna; but Angelo little thought
+      that it was from such a cause that they thus differed in their story, and
+      he hoped from their contradictory evidence to be able to clear himself
+      from the accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming the look of offended
+      innocence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is
+      touched, and I perceive these poor, distracted women are but the
+      instruments of some greater one who sets them on. Let me have way, my
+      lord, to find this practice out.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, with all my heart,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;and punish
+      them to the height of your pleasure. You, Lord Escalus, sit with Lord
+      Angelo, lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for
+      that set them on, and when he comes do with your injuries as may seem best
+      in any chastisement. I for a while will leave you, but stir not you, Lord
+      Angelo, till you have well determined upon this slander.&rdquo; The duke
+      then went away, leaving Angelo well pleased to be deputed judge and umpire
+      in his own cause. But the duke was absent only while he threw off his
+      royal robes and put on his friar&rsquo;s habit; and in that disguise again
+      he presented himself before Angelo and Escalus. And the good old Escalus,
+      who thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed friar,
+      &ldquo;Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He replied: &ldquo;Where is the duke? It is he who should hear me speak.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Escalus said: &ldquo;The duke is in us, and we will hear you. Speak
+      justly.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boldly, at least,&rdquo; retorted the friar; and then he blamed the
+      duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had accused,
+      and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had observed while, as he
+      said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna, that, Escalus threatened, him
+      with the torture for speaking words against the state and for censuring
+      the conduct of the duke, and ordered him to be taken away to prison. Then,
+      to the amazement of all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the
+      supposed friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke first addressed Isabel. He said to her: &ldquo;Come hither,
+      Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have not
+      changed my heart. I am still devoted to your service.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, give me pardon,&rdquo; said Isabel, &ldquo;that I, your vassal,
+      have employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her for not having
+      prevented the death of her brother for not yet would he tell her that
+      Claudio was living; meaning first to make a further trial of her goodness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad deeds, and
+      be said: &ldquo;O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
+      to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive your Grace, like power
+      divine, has looked upon my actions. Then, good prince, no longer prolong
+      my shame, but let my trial be my own confession. Immediate sentence and
+      death is all the grace I beg.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke replied: &ldquo;Angelo, thy faults are manifest. We do condemn
+      thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste
+      away with him; and for his possessions, Mariana, we do instate and widow
+      you withal, to buy you a better husband.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my dear lord,&rdquo; said Mariana, &ldquo;I crave no other, nor
+      no better man!&rdquo; And then on her knees, even as Isabel had begged the
+      life of Claudio, did this kind wife of an ungrateful husband beg the life
+      of Angelo; and she said: &ldquo;Gentle my liege, O good my lord! Sweet
+      Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees and all my life to come I will
+      lend you all my life, to do you service!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke said: &ldquo;Against all sense you importune her. Should Isabel
+      kneel down to beg for mercy, her brother&rsquo;s ghost would break his
+      paved bed and take her hence in horror.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Mariana said: &ldquo;Isabel, sweet Isabel, do but kneel by me, hold
+      up your hand, say nothing! I will speak all. They say best men are molded
+      out of faults, and for the most part become much the better for being a
+      little bad. So may my husband. O Isabel! will you not lend a knee?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke then said, &ldquo;He dies for Claudio.&rdquo; But much pleased
+      was the good duke when his own Isabel, from whom he expected all gracious
+      and honorable acts, kneeled down before him, and said: &ldquo;Most
+      bounteous sir, look, if it please you, on this man condemned, as if my
+      brother lived. I partly think a due sincerity governed his deeds till he
+      did look on me. Since it is so, let him not die! My brother had but
+      justice in that he did the thing for which he died.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, as the best reply he could make to this noble petitioner for her
+      enemy&rsquo;s life, sending for Claudio from his prisonhouse, where he lay
+      doubtful of his destiny, presented to her this lamented brother living;
+      and he said to Isabel: &ldquo;Give me your hand, Isabel. For your lovely
+      sake I pardon Claudio. Say you will be mine, and he shall be my brother,
+      too.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By this time Lord Angelo perceived he was safe; and the duke, observing
+      his eye to brighten up a little, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Angelo, look that you love your wife; her worth has obtained
+      your pardon. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I have confessed her
+      and know her virtue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief authority, how hard his
+      heart had been, and felt how sweet is mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke commanded Claudio to marry Juliet, and offered himself again to
+      the acceptance of Isabel, whose virtuous and noble conduct had won her
+      prince&rsquo;s heart. Isabel, not having taken the veil, was free to
+      marry; and the friendly offices, while hid under the disguise of a humble
+      friar, which the noble duke had done for her, made her with grateful joy
+      accept the honor he offered her; and when she became Duchess of Vienna the
+      excellent example of the virtuous Isabel worked such a complete
+      reformation among the young ladies of that city, that from that time none
+      ever fell into the transgression of Juliet, the repentant wife of the
+      reformed Claudio. And the mercy-loving duke long reigned with his beloved
+      Isabel, the happiest of husbands and of princes.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap15"></a>TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL</h2>
+    <p>
+      Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of Messaline,
+      were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder) from their birth they
+      so much resembled each other that, but for the difference in their dress,
+      they could not be known apart. They were both born in one hour, and in one
+      hour they were both in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on
+      the coast of Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship
+      on board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and a very
+      small number of the ship&rsquo;s company escaped with their lives. The
+      captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that were saved, got to
+      land in a small boat, and with them they brought Viola safe on shore,
+      where she, poor lady, instead of rejoicing at her own deliverance, began
+      to lament her brother&rsquo;s loss; but the captain comforted her with the
+      assurance that he had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten
+      himself to a strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of
+      him for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves. Viola was
+      much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and now considered bow
+      she was to dispose of herself in a strange country, so far from home; and
+      she asked the captain if he knew anything of Illyria.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, very well, madam,&rdquo; replied the captain, &ldquo;for I was
+      born not three hours&rsquo; travel from this place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who governs here?&rdquo; said Viola. The captain told her Illyria
+      was governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he was
+      unmarried then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he is so now,&rdquo; said the captain; &ldquo;or was so very
+      late for, but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
+      talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of) that
+      Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the daughter of a
+      count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to the protection of her
+      brother, who shortly after died also; and for the love of this dear
+      brother, they say, she has abjured the sight and company of men.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother&rsquo;s
+      loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly mourned a
+      brother&rsquo;s death. She asked the captain if be could introduce her to
+      Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this lady. But he replied this
+      would be a hard thing to accomplish, because the Lady Olivia would admit
+      no person into her house since her brother&rsquo;s death, not even the
+      duke himself. Then Viola formed another project in her mind, which was, in
+      a man&rsquo;s habit, to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange
+      fancy in a young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
+      forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of uncommon
+      beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her excuse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he showed a
+      friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her design, and he
+      readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him money and directed him to
+      furnish her with suitable apparel, ordering her clothes to be made of the
+      same color and in the same fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and
+      when she was dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her
+      brother that some strange errors happened by means of their being mistaken
+      for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian was also saved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola&rsquo;s good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
+      pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got her
+      presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The duke was
+      wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful deportment of this
+      handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his pages, that being the office
+      Viola wished to obtain; and she so well fulfilled the duties of her new
+      station, and showed such a ready observance and faithful attachment to her
+      lord, that she soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
+      confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To Cesario he
+      told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one who, rejecting his
+      long services and despising his person, refused to admit him to her
+      presence; and for the love of this lady who had so unkindly treated him
+      the noble Orsino, forsaking the sports of the field and all manly
+      exercises in which he used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth,
+      listening to the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and
+      passionate love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
+      lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long conversing
+      with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his grave courtiers thought
+      Cesario was for their once noble master, the great Duke Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes of
+      handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her sorrow, for all
+      that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she presently perceived she
+      suffered for the love of him, and much it moved her wonder that Olivia
+      could be so regardless of this her peerless lord and master, whom she
+      thought no one could behold without the deepest admiration, and she
+      ventured gently to hint to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a
+      lady who was so blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
+      perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in return)
+      would you not tell her that you could not love, and must she not be
+      content with this answer?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that it was
+      possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no woman&rsquo;s heart
+      was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore it was unfair to
+      compare the love of any lady for him to his love for Olivia. Now, though
+      Viola had the utmost deference for the duke&rsquo;s opinions, she could
+      not help thinking this was not quite true, for she thought her heart had
+      full as much love in it as Orsino&rsquo;s had; and she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but I know, my lord.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know, Cesario?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too well I know,&rdquo; replied Viola, &ldquo;what love women may
+      owe to men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a daughter
+      loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love your lordship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is her history?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A blank, my lord,&rdquo; replied Viola. &ldquo;She never told her
+      love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
+      cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy she
+      sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this question
+      Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had feigned the story,
+      to speak words expressive of the secret love and silent grief she suffered
+      for Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had sent to
+      Olivia, and he said, &ldquo;So please you, my lord, I might not be
+      admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you this answer:
+      Until seven years hence the element itself shall not behold her face; but
+      like a cloistress she will walk veiled, watering her chamber with her
+      tears for the sad remembrance of her dead brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On hearing this the duke exclaimed, &ldquo;Oh, she that has a heart of
+      this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how will she
+      love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then he said to Viola: &ldquo;You know, Cesario, I have told you all
+      the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to Olivia&rsquo;s
+      house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell her there your
+      fixed foot shall grow till you have audience.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?&rdquo; said Viola.
+    </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, then,&rdquo; replied Orsino, &ldquo;unfold to her the passion of my
+love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well become you to
+act my woes, for she will attend more to you than to one of graver
+aspect.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this courtship, for
+she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she wished to marry; but, having
+undertaken the affair, she performed it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard
+that a youth was at her door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.
+</p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him,&rdquo; said the servant, &ldquo;that you were sick. He
+      said he knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told him
+      that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of that, too, and
+      said that therefore he must speak with you. What is to be said to him,
+      lady? for he seems fortified against all denial, and will speak with you,
+      whether you will or no.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired be
+      might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her face, she said she
+      would once more hear Orsino&rsquo;s embassy, not doubting but that he came
+      from the duke, by his importunity. Viola, entering, put on the most manly
+      air she could assume, and, affecting the fine courtier language of great
+      men&rsquo;s pages, she said to the veiled lady:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell me
+      if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to cast away my
+      speech upon another; for besides that it is excellently well penned, I
+      have taken great pains to learn it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whence come you, sir?&rdquo; said Olivia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can say little more than I have studied,&rdquo; replied Viola,
+      and that question is out of my part.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a comedian?&rdquo; said Olivia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Viola; &ldquo;and yet I am not that which I
+      play,&rdquo; meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man.
+      And again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see her
+      rival&rsquo;s features than haste to deliver her master&rsquo;s message,
+      said, &ldquo;Good madam, let me see your face.&rdquo; With this bold
+      request Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom the
+      Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight conceived a passion
+      for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, &ldquo;Have you any
+      commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?&rdquo; And
+      then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven long years, she
+      drew aside her veil, saying: &ldquo;But I will draw the curtain and show
+      the picture. Is it not well done?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied: &ldquo;It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
+      your cheeks is by Nature&rsquo;s own cunning hand laid on. You are the
+      most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and leave the
+      world no copy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sir,&rdquo; replied Olivia, &ldquo;I will not be so cruel. The
+      world may have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
+      red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin; and so
+      forth. Were you sent here to praise me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied, &ldquo;I see what you are: you are too proud, but you are
+      fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but be
+      recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for Orsino loves
+      you with adoration and with tears, with groans that thunder love, and
+      sighs of fire.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your lord,&rdquo; said Olivia, &ldquo;knows well my mind. I cannot
+      love him; yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
+      high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him learned,
+      courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might have taken his
+      answer long ago.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I did love you as my master does,&rdquo; said Viola, &ldquo;I
+      would make me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I
+      would write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
+      the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would make Echo,
+      the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh, you should not rest
+      between the elements of earth and air, but you should pity me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might do much,&rdquo; said Olivia. &ldquo;What is your
+      parentage?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola replied: &ldquo;Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
+      gentleman.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: &ldquo;Go to your master
+      and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more, unless perchance you
+      come again to tell me how he takes it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair Cruelty.
+      When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY FORTUNES, YET MY
+      STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said aloud, &ldquo;I will be
+      sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs, action, and spirit plainly
+      show he is a gentleman.&rdquo; And then she wished Cesario was the duke;
+      and, perceiving the fast hold he had taken on her affections, she blamed
+      herself for her sudden love; but the gentle blame which people lay upon
+      their own faults has no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so
+      far forgot the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
+      page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament of a
+      lady&rsquo;s character, that she resolved to court the love of young
+      Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring, under the
+      pretense that he had left it with her as a present from Orsino. She hoped
+      by thus artfully making Cesario a present of the ring she should give him
+      some intimation of her design; and truly it did make Viola suspect; for,
+      knowing that Orsino had sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that
+      Olivia&rsquo;s looks and manner were expressive of admiration, and she
+      presently guessed her master&rsquo;s mistress had fallen in love with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;the poor lady might as well love a
+      dream. Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
+      fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Viola returned to Orsino&rsquo;s palace, and related to her lord the ill
+      success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia that the duke
+      should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke persisted in hoping that
+      the gentle Cesario would in time be able to persuade her to show some
+      pity, and therefore he bade him he should go to her again the next day. In
+      the mean time, to pass away the tedious interval, he commanded a song
+      which he loved to be sung; and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
+      did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain. The
+      spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun, and the young maids
+      that weave their thread with bone, chant this song. It is silly, yet I
+      love it, for it tells of the innocence of love in the old times.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   SONG
+
+  Come away, come away, Death,
+    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+  Fly away, fly away, breath,
+    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
+My part of death no one so true did share it.
+  Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
+    On my black coffin let there be strewn:
+  Not a friend, not a friend greet
+    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
+A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where
+Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in such true
+      simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and she bore testimony
+      in her countenance of feeling what the song expressed. Her sad looks were
+      observed by Orsino, who said to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
+      looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little, with your leave,&rdquo; replied Viola.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?&rdquo; said Orsino.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of your age and of your complexion, my lord,&rdquo; said Viola;
+      which made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
+      much older than himself and of a man&rsquo;s dark complexion; but Viola
+      secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no difficulty in
+      gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when their ladies delight to
+      converse with handsome young messengers; and the instant Viola arrived the
+      gates were thrown wide open, and the duke&rsquo;s page was shown into
+      Olivia&rsquo;s apartment with great respect. And when Viola told Olivia
+      that she was come once more to plead in her lord&rsquo;s behalf, this lady
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
+      undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music from the
+      spheres.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself still
+      more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she saw displeasure
+      with perplexity expressed in Viola&rsquo;s face, she said: &ldquo;Oh, what
+      a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt and anger of his lip!
+      Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by maidhood, honor, and by truth, I
+      love you so that, in spite of your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to
+      conceal my passion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence, threatening
+      never more to come to plead Orsino&rsquo;s love; and all the reply she
+      made to Olivia&rsquo;s fond solicitation was, a declaration of a
+      resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her valor. A
+      gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned how that lady had
+      favored the duke&rsquo;s messenger, challenged him to fight a duel. What
+      should poor Viola do, who, though she carried a man-like outside, had a
+      true woman&rsquo;s heart and feared to look on her own sword?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his sword
+      drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a woman; but she was
+      relieved at once from her terror, and the shame of such a discovery, by a
+      stranger that was passing by, who made up to them, and as if he had been
+      long known to her and were her dearest friend said to her opponent:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault on
+      me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to inquire the
+      reason of his kind interference, her new friend met with an enemy where
+      his bravery was of no use to him; for the officers of justice coming up in
+      that instant, apprehended the stranger in the duke&rsquo;s name, to answer
+      for an offense he had committed some years before; and he said to Viola:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This comes with seeking you.&rdquo; And then he asked her for a
+      purse, saying: &ldquo;Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
+      grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what befalls
+      myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him not, nor
+      had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness he had just shown
+      her she offered him a small sum of money, being nearly the whole she
+      possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe things, charging her with
+      ingratitude and unkindness. He said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death, and
+      for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into this danger.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of their
+      prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, &ldquo;What is that to us?&rdquo;
+      And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name of Sebastian,
+      reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning his friend, as long as he
+      was within hearing. When Viola heard herself called Sebastian, though the
+      stranger was taken away too hastily for her to ask an explanation, she
+      conjectured that this seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken
+      for her brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
+      whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was. The
+      stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had taken
+      Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with fatigue, he was
+      floating on the mast to which he had fastened himself in the storm.
+      Antonio conceived such a friendship for Sebastian that he resolved to
+      accompany him whithersoever he went; and when the youth expressed a
+      curiosity to visit Orsino&rsquo;s court, Antonio, rather than part from
+      him, came to Illyria, though he knew, if his person should be known there,
+      his life would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
+      dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino&rsquo;s nephew. This was the offense
+      for which he was now made a prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before Antonio
+      met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring him to use it
+      freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase, telling him he would wait
+      at the inn while Sebastian went to view the town; but, Sebastian not
+      returning at the time appointed, Antonio had ventured out to look for him,
+      and, priest made Orsino believe that his page had robbed him of the
+      treasure he prized above his life. But thinking that it was past recall,
+      he was bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
+      DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to come in
+      his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle appeared! for
+      another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as his wife. This new
+      Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of Olivia; and when their wonder
+      had a little ceased at seeing two persons with the same face, the same
+      voice, and the same habit, the brother and sister began to question each
+      other; for Viola could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living,
+      and Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed drowned
+      being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola presently acknowledged
+      that she was indeed Viola, and his sister, under that disguise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness between
+      this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at the Lady Olivia
+      for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling in love with a woman; and
+      Olivia showed no dislike to her exchange, when she found she had wedded
+      the brother instead of the sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of Olivia, and
+      with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to vanish away, and all his
+      thoughts were fixed on the event of his favorite, young Cesario, being
+      changed into a fair lady. He viewed Viola with great attention, and he
+      remembered how very handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he
+      concluded she would look very beautiful in a woman&rsquo;s attire; and
+      then he remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the time
+      seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but now he guessed
+      that something more was meant, for many of her pretty sayings, which were
+      like riddles to him, came now into his mind, and he no sooner remembered
+      all these things than he resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to
+      her (he still could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
+      love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have done for me
+      so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and since you have called
+      me master so long, you shall now be your master&rsquo;s mistress, and
+      Orsino&rsquo;s true duchess.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she had so
+      ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her house and
+      offered the assistance of the good priest who had married her to Sebastian
+      in the morning to perform the same ceremony in the remaining part of the
+      day for Orsino and Viola. Thus the twin brother and sister were both
+      wedded on the same day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them
+      being the means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
+      was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the husband of
+      the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap16"></a>TIMON OF ATHENS</h2>
+    <p>
+      Timon, a lord of Athens, in the enjoyment of a princely fortune, affected
+      a humor of liberality which knew no limits. His almost infinite wealth
+      could not flow in so fast but he poured it out faster upon all sorts and
+      degrees of people. Not the poor only tasted of his bounty, but great lords
+      did not disdain to rank themselves among his dependents and followers. His
+      table was resorted to by all the luxurious feasters, and his house was
+      open to all comers and goers at Athens. His large wealth combined with his
+      free and prodigal nature to subdue all hearts to his love; men of all
+      minds and dispositions tendered their services to Lord Timon, from the
+      glass-faced flatterer whose face reflects as in a mirror the present humor
+      of his patron, to the rough and unbending cynic who, affecting a contempt
+      of men&rsquo;s persons and an indifference to worldly things, yet could
+      not stand out against the gracious manners and munificent soul of Lord
+      Timon, but would come (against his nature) to partake of his royal
+      entertainments and return most rich in his own estimation if he had
+      received a nod or a salutation from Timon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If a poet had composed a work which wanted a recommendatory introduction
+      to the world, he had no more to do but to dedicate it to Lord Timon, and
+      the poem was sure of sale, besides a present purse from the patron, and
+      daily access to his house and table. If a painter had a picture to dispose
+      of he had only to take it to Lord Timon and pretend to consult his taste
+      as to the merits of it; nothing more was wanting to persuade the liberal-
+      hearted lord to buy it. If a jeweler had a stone of price, or a mercer
+      rich, costly stuffs, which for their costliness lay upon his hands, Lord
+      Timon&rsquo;s house was a ready mart always open, where they might get off
+      their wares or their jewelry at any price, and the good-natured lord would
+      thank them into the bargain, as if they had done him a piece of courtesy
+      in letting him have the refusal of such precious commodities. So that by
+      this means his house was thronged with superfluous purchases, of no use
+      but to swell uneasy and ostentatious pomp; and his person was still more
+      inconveniently beset with a crowd of these idle visitors, lying poets,
+      painters, sharking tradesmen, lords, ladies, needy courtiers, and
+      expectants, who continually filled his lobbies, raining their fulsome
+      flatteries in whispers in his ears, sacrificing to him with adulation as
+      to a God, making sacred the very stirrup by which he mounted his horse,
+      and seeming as though they drank the free air but through his permission
+      and bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of these daily dependents were young men of birth who (their means
+      not answering to their extravagance) had been put in prison by creditors
+      and redeemed thence by Lord Timon; these young prodigals thenceforward
+      fastened upon his lordship, as if by common sympathy he were necessarily
+      endeared to all such spendthrifts and loose livers, who, not being able to
+      follow him in his wealth, found it easier to copy him in prodigality and
+      copious spending of what was their own. One of these flesh-flies was
+      Ventidius, for whose debts, unjustly contracted, Timon but lately had paid
+      down the sum of five talents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But among this confluence, this great flood of visitors, none were more
+      conspicuous than the makers of presents and givers of gifts. It was
+      fortunate for these men if Timon took a fancy to a dog or a horse, or any
+      piece of cheap furniture which was theirs. The thing so praised, whatever
+      it was, was sure to be sent the next morning with the compliments of the
+      giver for Lord Timon&rsquo;s acceptance, and apologies for the
+      unworthiness of the gift; and this dog or horse, or whatever it might be,
+      did not fail to produce from Timon&rsquo;s bounty, who would not be
+      outdone in gifts, perhaps twenty dogs or horses, certainly presents of far
+      richer worth, as these pretended donors knew well enough, and that their
+      false presents were but the putting out of so much money at large and
+      speedy interest. In this way Lord Lucius had lately sent to Timon a
+      present of four milk-white horses, trapped in silver, which this cunning
+      lord had observed Timon upon some occasion to commend; and another lord,
+      Lucullus, had bestowed upon him in the same pretended way of free gift a
+      brace of greyhounds whose make and fleetness Timon had been heard to
+      admire; these presents the easy-hearted lord accepted without suspicion of
+      the dishonest views of the presenters; and the givers of course were
+      rewarded with some rich return, a diamond or some jewel of twenty times
+      the value of their false and mercenary donation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes these creatures would go to work in a more direct way, and with
+      gross and palpable artifice, which yet the credulous Timon was too blind
+      to see, would affect to admire and praise something that Timon possessed,
+      a bargain that he had bought, or some late purchase, which was sure to
+      draw from this yielding and soft-hearted lord a gift of the thing
+      commended, for no service in the world done for it but the easy expense of
+      a little cheap and obvious flattery. In this way Timon but the other day
+      had given to one of these mean lords the bay courser which he himself rode
+      upon, because his lordship had been pleased to say that it was a handsome
+      beast and went well; and Timon knew that no man ever justly praised what
+      he did not wish to possess. For Lord Timon weighed his friends&rsquo;
+      affection with his own, and so fond was he of bestowing, that be could
+      have dealt kingdoms to these supposed friends and never have been weary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that Timon&rsquo;s wealth all went to enrich these wicked flatterers;
+      he could do noble and praiseworthy actions; and when a servant of his once
+      loved the daughter of a rich Athenian, but could not hope to obtain her by
+      reason that in wealth and rank the maid was so far above him, Lord Timon
+      freely bestowed upon his servant three Athenian talents, to make his
+      fortune equal with the dowry which the father of the young maid demanded
+      of him who should be her husband. But for the most part, knaves and
+      parasites had the command of his fortune, false friends whom he did not
+      know to be such, but, because they flocked around his person, he thought
+      they must needs love him; and because they smiled and flattered him, he
+      thought surely that his conduct was approved by all the wise and good. And
+      when be was feasting in the midst of all these flatterers and mock
+      friends, when they were eating him up and draining his fortunes dry with
+      large draughts of richest wines drunk to his health and prosperity, be
+      could not perceive the difference of a friend from a flatterer, but to his
+      deluded eyes (made proud with the sight) it seemed a precious comfort to
+      have so many like brothers commanding one another&rsquo;s fortunes (though
+      it was his own fortune which paid all the costs), and with joy they would
+      run over at the spectacle of such, as it appeared to him, truly festive
+      and fraternal meeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But while he thus outwent the very heart of kindness, and poured out his
+      bounty, as if Plutus, the god of gold, had been but his steward; while
+      thus he proceeded without care or stop, so senseless of expense that he
+      would neither inquire how he could maintain it nor cease his wild flow of
+      riot&mdash;his riches, which were not infinite, must needs melt away
+      before a prodigality which knew no limits. But who should tell him so? His
+      flatterers? They had an interest in shutting his eyes. In vain did his
+      honest steward Flavius try to represent to him his condition, laying his
+      accounts before him, begging of him, praying of him, with an importunity
+      that on any other occasion would have been unmannerly in a servant,
+      beseeching him with tears to look into the state of his affairs. Timon
+      would still put him off, and turn the discourse to something else; for
+      nothing is so deaf to remonstrance as riches turned to poverty, nothing is
+      so unwilling to believe its situation, nothing so incredulous to its own
+      true state, and hard to give credit to a reverse. Often had this good
+      steward, this honest creature, when all the rooms of Timon&rsquo;s great
+      house had been choked up with riotous feeders at his master&rsquo;s cost,
+      when the floors have wept with drunken spilling of wine, and every
+      apartment has blazed with lights and resounded with music and feasting,
+      often had he retired by himself to some solitary spot, and wept faster
+      than the wine ran from the wasteful casks within, to see the mad bounty of
+      his lord, and to think, when the means were gone which brought him praises
+      from all sorts of people, how quickly the breath would be gone of which
+      the praise was made; praises won in feasting would be lost in fasting, and
+      at one cloud of winter-showers these flies would disappear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But now the time was come that Timon could shut his ears no longer to the
+      representations of this faithful steward. Money must be had; and when he
+      ordered Flavius to sell some of his land for that purpose, Flavius
+      informed him, what he had in vain endeavored at several times before to
+      make him listen to, that most of his land was already sold or forfeited,
+      and that all he possessed at present was not enough to pay the one-half of
+      what he owed. Struck with wonder at this presentation, Timon hastily
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lands extend from Athens to Lacedoemon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O my good lord,&rdquo; said Flavius, &ldquo;the world is but a
+      world, and has bounds. Were it all yours to give in a breath, how quickly
+      were it gone!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Timon consoled himself that no villainous bounty had yet come from him,
+      that if he had given his wealth away unwisely, it had not been bestowed to
+      feed his vices, but to cherish his friends; and he bade the kind-hearted
+      steward (who was weeping) to take comfort in the assurance that his master
+      could never lack means while he had so many noble friends; and this
+      infatuated lord persuaded himself that he had nothing to do but to send
+      and borrow, to use every man&rsquo;s fortune (that had ever tasted his
+      bounty) in this extremity, as freely as his own. Then with a cheerful
+      look, as if confident of the trial, he severally despatched messengers to
+      Lord Lucius, to Lords Lucullus and Sempronius, men upon whom he had
+      lavished his gifts in past times without measure or moderation; and to
+      Ventidius, whom he had lately released out of prison by paying his debts,
+      and who, by the death of his father, was now come into the possession of
+      an ample fortune and well enabled to requite Timon&rsquo;s courtesy; to
+      request of Ventidius the return of those five talents which he had paid
+      for him, and of each of those noble lords the loan of fifty talents;
+      nothing doubting that their gratitude would supply his wants (if he needed
+      it) to the amount of five hundred times fifty talents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucullus was the first applied to. This mean lord had been dreaming
+      overnight of a silver bason and cup, and when Timon&rsquo;s servant was
+      announced his sordid mind suggested to him that this was surely a making
+      out of his dream, and that Timon had sent him such a present. But when he
+      understood the truth of the matter, and that Timon wanted money, the
+      quality of his faint and watery friendship showed itself, for with many
+      protestations he vowed to the servant that he had long foreseen the ruin
+      of his master&rsquo;s affairs, and many a time had he come to dinner to
+      tell him of it, and had come again to supper to try to persuade him to
+      spend less, but he would take no counsel nor warning by his coming. And
+      true it was that he had been a constant attender (as he said) at Timon&rsquo;s
+      feasts, as he had in greater things tasted his bounty; but that he ever
+      came with that intent, or gave good counsel or reproof to Timon, was a
+      base, unworthy lie, which he suitably followed up with meanly offering the
+      servant a bribe to go home to his master and tell him that be had not
+      found Lucullus at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As little success had the messenger who was sent to Lord Lucius. This
+      lying lord, who was full of Timon&rsquo;s meat and enriched almost to
+      bursting with Timon&rsquo;s costly presents, when he found the wind
+      changed, and the fountain of so much bounty suddenly stopped, at first
+      could hardly believe it; but on its being confirmed he affected great
+      regret that he should not have it in his power to serve Lord Timon, for,
+      unfortunately (which was a base falsehood), he had made a great purchase
+      the day before, which had quite disfurnished him of the means at present,
+      the more beast he, he called himself, to put it out of his power to serve
+      so good a friend; and he counted it one of his greatest afflictions that
+      his ability should fail him to pleasure such an honorable gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who can call any man friend that dips in the same dish with him? Just of
+      this metal is every flatterer. In the recollection of everybody Timon had
+      been a father to this Lucius, had kept up his credit with his purse; Timon&rsquo;s
+      money had gone to pay the wages of his servants, to pay the hire of the
+      laborers who had sweat to build the fine houses which Lucius&rsquo;s pride
+      had made necessary to him. Yet&mdash;-oh, the monster which man makes
+      himself when he proves ungrateful!&mdash;this Lucius now denied to Timon a
+      sum which, in respect of what Timon had bestowed on him, was less than
+      charitable men afford to beggars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sempronius, and every one of these mercenary lords to whom Timon applied
+      in their turn, returned the same evasive answer or direct denial; even
+      Ventidius, the redeemed and now rich Ventidius, refused to assist him with
+      the loan of those five talents which Timon had not lent but generously
+      given him in his distress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was Timon as much avoided in his poverty as he had been courted and
+      resorted to in his riches. Now the same tongues which had been loudest in
+      his praises, extolling him as bountiful, liberal, and open-handed, were
+      not ashamed to censure that very bounty as folly, that liberality as
+      profuseness, though it had shown itself folly in nothing so truly as in
+      the selection of such unworthy creatures as themselves for its objects.
+      Now was Timon&rsquo;s princely mansion forsaken and become a shunned and
+      hated place, a place for men to pass by, not a place, as formerly, where
+      every passenger must stop and taste of his wine and good cheer; now,
+      instead of being thronged with feasting and tumultuous guests, it was
+      beset with impatient and clamorous creditors, usurers, extortioners,
+      fierce and intolerable in their demands, pleading bonds, interest,
+      mortgages; iron-hearted men that would take no denial nor putting off,
+      that Timon&rsquo;s house was now his jail, which he could not pass, nor go
+      in nor out for them; one demanding his due of fifty talents, another
+      bringing in a bill of five thousand crowns, which, if he would tell out
+      his blood by drops and pay them so, he had not enough in his body to
+      discharge, drop by drop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this desperate and irremediable state (as it seemed) of his affairs,
+      the eyes of all men were suddenly surprised at a new and incredible luster
+      which this setting sun put forth. Once more Lord Timon proclaimed a feast,
+      to which he invited his accustomed guests&mdash;lords, ladies, all that
+      was great or fashionable in Athens. Lord Lucius and Lucullus came,
+      Ventidius, Sempronius, and the rest. Who more sorry now than these fawning
+      wretches, when they found (as they thought) that Lord Timon&rsquo;s
+      poverty was all pretense and had been only put on to make trial of their
+      loves, to think that they should not have seen through the artifice at the
+      time and have had the cheap credit of obliging his lordship? Yet who more
+      glad to find the fountain of that noble bounty which they had thought
+      dried up, still fresh and running? They came dissembling, protesting,
+      expressing deepest sorrow and shame, that when his lordship sent to them
+      they should have been so unfortunate as to want the present means to
+      oblige so honorable a friend. But Timon begged them not to give such
+      trifles a thought, for he had altogether forgotten it. And these base,
+      fawning lords, though they had denied him money in his adversity, yet
+      could not refuse their presence at this new blaze of his returning
+      prosperity. For the swallow follows not summer more willingly than men of
+      these dispositions follow the good fortunes of the great, nor more
+      willingly leaves winter than these shrink from the first appearance of a
+      reverse. Such summer birds are men. But now with music and state the
+      banquet of smoking dishes was served up; and when the guests had a little
+      done admiring whence the bankrupt Timon could find means to furnish so
+      costly a feast, some doubting whether the scene which they saw was real,
+      as scarce trusting their own eyes, at a signal given the dishes were
+      uncovered and Timon&rsquo;s drift appeared. Instead of those varieties and
+      far-fetched dainties which they expected, that Timon&rsquo;s epicurean
+      table in past times had so liberally presented, now appeared under the
+      covers of these dishes a preparation more suitable to Timon&rsquo;s
+      poverty&mdash;nothing but a little smoke and lukewarm water, fit feast for
+      this knot of mouth-friends, whose professions were indeed smoke, and their
+      hearts lukewarm and slippery as the water with which Timon welcomed his
+      astonished guests, bidding them, &ldquo;Uncover, dogs, and lap;&rdquo;
+      and, before they could recover their surprise, sprinkling it in their
+      faces, that they might have enough, and throwing dishes and all after
+      them, who now ran huddling out, lords, ladies, with their caps snatched up
+      in haste, a splendid confusion, Timon pursuing them, still calling them
+      what they were, &ldquo;smooth smiling parasites, destroyers under the mask
+      of courtesy, affable wolves, meek bears, fools of fortune, feast-friends,
+      time-flies.&rdquo; They, crowding out to avoid him, left the house more
+      willingly than they had entered it; some losing their gowns and caps, and
+      some their jewels in the hurry, all glad to escape out of the presence of
+      such a mad lord, and from the ridicule of his mock banquet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the last feast which ever Timon made, and in it he took farewell
+      of Athens and the society of men; for, after that, he betook himself to
+      the woods, turning his back upon the hated city and upon all mankind,
+      wishing the walls of that detestable city might sink, and the houses fall
+      upon their owners, wishing all plagues which infest humanity&mdash;war,
+      outrage, poverty, diseases&mdash;might fasten upon its inhabitants,
+      praying the just gods to confound all Athenians, both young and old, high
+      and low; so wishing, he went to the woods, where he said he should find
+      the unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. He stripped himself naked,
+      that he might retain no fashion of a man, and dug a cave to live in, and
+      lived solitary in the manner of a beast, eating the wild roots and
+      drinking water, flying from the face of his kind, and choosing rather to
+      herd with wild beasts, as more harmless and friendly than man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What a change from Lord Timon the rich, Lord Timon the delight of mankind,
+      to Timon the naked, Timon the man-hater! Where were his flatterers now?
+      Where were his attendants and retinue? Would the bleak air, that
+      boisterous servitor, be his chamberlain, to put his shirt on warm? Would
+      those stiff trees that had outlived the eagle turn young and airy pages to
+      him, to skip on his errands when he bade them? Would the cool brook, when
+      it was iced with winter, administer to him his warm broths and caudles
+      when sick of an overnight&rsquo;s surfeit? Or would the creatures that
+      lived in those wild woods come and lick his hand and flatter him?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here on a day, when he was digging for roots, his poor sustenance, his
+      spade struck against something heavy, which proved to be gold, a great
+      heap which some miser had probably buried in a time of alarm, thinking to
+      have come again and taken it from its prison, but died before the
+      opportunity had arrived, without making any man privy to the concealment;
+      so it lay, doing neither good nor harm, in the bowels of the earth, its
+      mother, as if it had never come thence, till the accidental striking of
+      Timon&rsquo;s spade against it once more brought it to light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was a mass of treasure which, if Timon had retained his old mind, was
+      enough to have purchased him friends and flatterers again; but Timon was
+      sick of the false world and the sight of gold was poisonous to his eyes;
+      and he would have restored it to the earth, but that, thinking of the
+      infinite calamities which by means of gold happen to mankind, how the
+      lucre of it causes robberies, oppression, injustice, briberies, violence,
+      and murder, among men, he had a pleasure in imagining (such a rooted
+      hatred did he bear to his species) that out of this heap, which in digging
+      he had discovered, might arise some mischief to plague mankind. And some
+      soldiers passing through the woods near to his cave at that instant, which
+      proved to be a part of the troops of the Athenian captain Alcibiades, who,
+      upon some disgust taken against the senators of Athens (the Athenians were
+      ever noted to be a thankless and ungrateful people, giving disgust to
+      their generals and best friends), was marching at the head of the same
+      triumphant army which he had formerly headed in their defense, to war
+      against them. Timon, who liked their business well, bestowed upon their
+      captain the gold to pay his soldiers, requiring no other service from him
+      than that he should with his conquering army lay Athens level with the
+      ground, and burn, slay, kill all her inhabitants; not sparing the old men
+      for their white beards, for (he said) they were usurers, nor the young
+      children for their seeming innocent smiles, for those (he said) would
+      live, if they grew up, to be traitors; but to steel his eyes and ears
+      against any sights or sounds that might awaken compassion; and not to let
+      the cries of virgins, babes, or mothers hinder him from making one
+      universal massacre of the city, but to confound them all in his conquest;
+      and when he had conquered, he prayed that the gods would confound him
+      also, the conqueror. So thoroughly did Timon hate Athens, Athenians, and
+      all mankind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he lived in this forlorn state, leading a life more brutal than
+      human, he was suddenly surprised one day with the appearance of a man
+      standing in an admiring posture at the door of his cave. It was Flavius,
+      the honest steward, whom love and zealous affection to his master had led
+      to seek him out at his wretched dwelling and to offer his services; and
+      the first sight of his master, the once noble Timon, in that abject
+      condition, naked as he was born, living in the manner of a beast among
+      beasts, looking like his own sad ruins and a monument of decay, so
+      affected this good servant that he stood speechless, wrapped up in horror
+      and confounded. And when he found utterance at last to his words, they
+      were so choked with tears that Timon had much ado to know him again, or to
+      make out who it was that had come (so contrary to the experience he had
+      had of mankind) to offer him service in extremity. And being in the form
+      and shape of a man, he suspected him for a traitor, and his tears for
+      false; but the good servant by so many tokens confirmed the truth of his
+      fidelity, and made it clear that nothing but love and zealous duty to his
+      once dear master had brought him there, that Timon was forced to confess
+      that the world contained one honest man; yet, being in the shape and form
+      of a man, be could not look upon his man&rsquo;s face without abhorrence,
+      or hear words uttered from his man&rsquo;s lips without loathing; and this
+      singly honest man was forced to depart, because he was a man, and because,
+      with a heart more gentle and compassionate than is usual to man, he bore
+      man&rsquo;s detested form and outward feature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But greater visitants than a poor steward were about to interrupt the
+      savage quiet of Timon&rsquo;s solitude. For now the day was come when the
+      ungrateful lords of Athens sorely repented the injustice which they had
+      done to the noble Timon. For Alcibiades, like an incensed wild boar, was
+      raging at the walls of their city, and with his hot siege threatened to
+      lay fair Athens in the dust. And now the memory of Lord Timon&rsquo;s
+      former prowess and military conduct came fresh into their forgetful minds,
+      for Timon had been their general in past times, and a valiant and expert
+      soldier, who alone of all the Athenians was deemed able to cope with a
+      besieging army such as then threatened them, or to drive back the furious
+      approaches of Alcibiades.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A deputation of the senators was chosen in this emergency to wait upon
+      Timon. To him they come in their extremity, to whom, when he was in
+      extremity, they had shown but small regard; as if they presumed upon his
+      gratitude whom they had disobliged, and had derived a claim to his
+      courtesy from their own most discourteous and unpiteous treatment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now they earnestly beseech him, implore him with tears, to return and save
+      that city from which their ingratitude had so lately driven him; now they
+      offer him riches, power, dignities,, satisfaction for past injuries, and
+      public honors, and the public love; their persons, lives, and fortunes to
+      be at his disposal, if he will but come back and save them. But Timon the
+      naked, Timon the man-hater, was no longer Lord Timon, the lord of bounty,
+      the flower of valor, their defense in war, their ornament in peace. If
+      Alcibiades killed his countrymen, Timon cared not. If he sacked fair
+      Athens, and slew her old men and her infants, Timon would rejoice. So he
+      told them; and that there was not a knife in the unruly camp which he did
+      not prize above the reverendest throat in Athens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was all the answer he vouchsafed to the weeping, disappointed
+      senators; only at parting he bade them commend him to his countrymen, and
+      tell them that to ease them of their griefs and anxieties, and to prevent
+      the consequences of fierce Alcibiades&rsquo;s wrath, there was yet a way
+      left, which he would teach them, for he had yet so much affection left for
+      his dear countrymen as to be willing to do them a kindness before his
+      death. These words a little revived the senators, who hoped that his
+      kindness for their city was returning. Then Timon told them that he had a
+      tree, which grew near his cave, which he should shortly have occasion to
+      cut down, and he invited all his friends in Athens, high or low , of
+      whatsoever degree, who wished to shun affliction, to come and take a taste
+      of his tree before he cut it down; meaning that they might come and hang
+      themselves on it and escape affliction that way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this was the last courtesy, of all his noble bounties, which Timon
+      showed to mankind, and this the last sight of him which his countrymen
+      had, for not many days after, a poor soldier, passing by the sea-beach
+      which was at a little distance from the woods which Timon frequented,
+      found a tomb on the verge of the sea, with an inscription upon it
+      purporting that it was the grave of Timon the man-hater, who &ldquo;While
+      he lived, did hate all living men, and, dying, wished a plague might
+      consume all caitiffs left!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether he finished his life by violence, or whether mere distaste of life
+      and the loathing he had for mankind brought Timon to his conclusion, was
+      not clear, yet all men admired the fitness of his epitaph and the
+      consistency of his end, dying, as he had lived, a hater of mankind. And
+      some there were who fancied a conceit in the very choice which he had made
+      of the sea-beach for his place of burial, where the vast sea might weep
+      forever upon his grave, as in contempt of the transient and shallow tears
+      of hypocritical and deceitful mankind.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap17"></a>ROMEO AND JULIET</h2>
+    <p>
+      The two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the Montagues.
+      There had been an old quarrel between these families, which was grown to
+      such a height, and so deadly was the enmity between them, that it extended
+      to the remotest kindred, to the followers and retainers of both sides, in
+      so much that a servant of the house of Montague could not meet a servant
+      of the house of Capulet, nor a Capulet encounter with a Montague by
+      chance, but fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued; and frequent were
+      the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the happy quiet
+      of Verona&rsquo;s streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies and many
+      noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of Verona were
+      present, and all comers were made welcome if they were not of the house of
+      Montague. At this feast of Capulets, Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to
+      the old Lord Montague, was present; and though it was dangerous for a
+      Montague to be seen in this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo,
+      persuaded the young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask,
+      that he might see his Rosaline, and, seeing her, compare her with some
+      choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his swan a
+      crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio&rsquo;s words; nevertheless, for
+      the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go. For Romeo was a sincere and
+      passionate lover, and one that lost his sleep for love and fled society to
+      be alone, thinking on Rosaline, who disdained him and never requited his
+      love with the least show of courtesy or affection; and Benvolio wished to
+      cure his friend of this love by showing him diversity of ladies and
+      company. To this feast of Capulets, then, young Romeo, with Benvolio and
+      their friend Mercutio, went masked. Old Capulet bid them welcome and told
+      them that ladies who had their toes unplagued with corns would dance with
+      them. And the old man was light-hearted and merry, and said that he had
+      worn a mask when he was young and could have told a whispering tale in a
+      fair lady&rsquo;s ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly
+      struck with the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to
+      him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show by night
+      like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor; beauty too rich for use, too dear
+      for earth! like a snowy dove trooping with crows (he said), so richly did
+      her beauty and perfections shine above the ladies her companions. While he
+      uttered these praises he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord
+      Capulet, who knew him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of
+      a fiery and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should
+      come under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at their
+      solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and would have struck
+      young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord Capulet, would not suffer
+      him to do any injury at that time, both out of respect to his guests and
+      because Romeo had borne himself like a gentleman and all tongues in Verona
+      bragged of him to be a virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to
+      be patient against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile
+      Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady stood; and
+      under favor of his masking habit, which might seem to excuse in part the
+      liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to take her by the hand,
+      calling it a shrine, which if he profaned by touching it, he was a
+      blushing pilgrim and would kiss it for atonement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good pilgrim,&rdquo; answered the lady, &ldquo;your devotion shows
+      by far too mannerly and too courtly. Saints have hands which pilgrims may
+      touch but kiss not.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have not saints lips, and pilgrims, too?&rdquo; said Romeo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said the lady, &ldquo;lips which they must use in
+      prayer.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then, my dear saint,&rdquo; said Romeo, &ldquo;hear my prayer,
+      and grant it, lest I despair.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In such like allusions and loving conceits they were engaged when the lady
+      was called away to her mother. And Romeo, inquiring who her mother was,
+      discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty he was so much struck with
+      was young Juliet, daughter and heir to the Lord Capulet, the great enemy
+      of the Montagues; and that he had unknowingly engaged his heart to his
+      foe. This troubled him, but it could not dissuade him from loving. As
+      little rest had Juliet when she found that the gentle man that she had
+      been talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly smit
+      with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo which he had
+      conceived for her; and a prodigious birth of love it seemed to her, that
+      she must love her enemy and that her affections should settle there, where
+      family considerations should induce her chiefly to hate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It being midnight, Romeo with his companions departed; but they soon
+      missed him, for, unable to stay away from the house where he had left his
+      heart, he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at the back of Juliet&rsquo;s
+      house. Here he had not been long, ruminating on his new love, when Juliet
+      appeared above at a window, through which her exceeding beauty seemed to
+      break like the light of the sun in the east; and the moon, which shone in
+      the orchard with a faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with
+      grief at the superior luster of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek
+      upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that hand, that
+      he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking herself alone,
+      fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah me!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, enraptured to bear her speak, said, softly and unheard by her,
+      &ldquo;Oh, speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being over my
+      head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals fall back to gaze
+      upon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new passion which
+      that night&rsquo;s adventure had given birth to, called upon her lover by
+      name (whom she supposed absent). &ldquo;O Romeo, Romeo!&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, for
+      my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and I no longer will
+      be a Capulet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he was
+      desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her passionate discourse
+      with herself (as she thought), still chiding Romeo for being Romeo and a
+      Montague, and wishing him some other name, or that he would put away that
+      hated name, and for that name which was no part of himself he should take
+      all herself. At this loving word Romeo could no longer refrain, but,
+      taking up the dialogue as if her words had been addressed to him
+      personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call him Love, or by
+      whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer Romeo, if that name
+      was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to hear a man&rsquo;s voice in the
+      garden, did not at first know who it was that by favor of the night and
+      darkness had thus stumbled upon the discovery of her secret; but when he
+      spoke again, though her ears had not yet drunk a hundred words of that
+      tongue&rsquo;s uttering, yet so nice is a lover&rsquo;s hearing that she
+      immediately knew him to be young Romeo, and she expostulated with him on
+      the danger to which he had exposed himself by climbing the orchard walls,
+      for if any of her kinsmen should find him there it would be death to him,
+      being a Montague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alack!&rdquo; said Romeo, &ldquo;there is more peril in your eye
+      than in twenty of their swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I
+      am proof against their enmity. Better my life should be ended by their
+      hate than that hated life should be prolonged to live without your love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How came you into this place,&rdquo; said Juliet, &ldquo;and by
+      whose direction?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love directed me,&rdquo; answered Romeo. &ldquo;I am no pilot, yet
+      &lsquo;wert thou as far apart from me as that vast shore which is washed
+      with the farthest sea, I should venture for such merchandise.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A crimson blush came over Juliet&rsquo;s face, yet unseen by Romeo by
+      reason of the night, when she reflected upon the discovery which she had
+      made, yet not meaning to make it, of her love to Romeo. She would fain
+      have recalled her words, but that was impossible; fain would she have
+      stood upon form, and have kept her lover at a distance, as the custom of
+      discreet ladies is, to frown and be perverse and give their suitors harsh
+      denials at first; to stand off, and affect a coyness or indifference where
+      they most love, that their lovers may not think them too lightly or too
+      easily won; for the difficulty of attainment increases the value of the
+      object. But there was no room in her case for denials, or puttings off, or
+      any of the customary arts of delay and protracted courtship. Romeo had
+      heard from her own tongue, when she did not dream that he was near her, a
+      confession of her love. So with an honest frankness which the novelty of
+      her situation excused she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard,
+      and, addressing him by the name of FAIR MONTAGUE (love can sweeten a sour
+      name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to levity or an
+      unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it (if it were a fault)
+      upon the accident of the night which had so strangely discovered her
+      thoughts. And she added, that though her behavior to him might not be
+      sufficiently prudent, measured by the custom of her sex, yet that she
+      would prove more true than many whose prudence was dissembling, and their
+      modesty artificial cunning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness that nothing was
+      farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonor to such an
+      honored lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to swear; for although
+      she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that night&rsquo;s contract&mdash;it
+      was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But he being urgent with her to
+      exchange a vow of love with him that night, she said that she already had
+      given him hers before he requested it, meaning, when he overheard her
+      confession; but she would retract what she then bestowed, for the pleasure
+      of giving it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her
+      love as deep. From this loving conference she was called away by her
+      nurse, who slept with her and thought it time for her to be in bed, for it
+      was near to daybreak; but, hastily returning, she said three or four words
+      more to Romeo the purport of which was, that if his love was indeed
+      honorable, and his purpose marriage, she would send a messenger to him
+      to-morrow to appoint a time for their marriage, when she would lay all her
+      fortunes at his feet and follow him as her lord through the world. While
+      they were settling this point Juliet was repeatedly called for by her
+      nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned again, for she
+      seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her as a young girl of her bird,
+      which she will let hop a little from her hand and pluck it back with a
+      silken thread; and Romeo was as loath to part as she, for the sweetest
+      music to lovers is the sound of each other&rsquo;s tongues at night. But
+      at last they parted, wishing mutually sweet sleep and rest for that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day was breaking when they parted, and Romeo, who was too full of
+      thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to allow him to sleep,
+      instead of going home, bent his course to a monastery hard by, to find
+      Friar Lawrence. The good friar was already up at his devotions, but,
+      seeing young Romeo abroad so early, he conjectured rightly that he had not
+      been abed that night, but that some distemper of youthful affection had
+      kept him waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo&rsquo;s
+      wakefulness to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he
+      thought that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo
+      revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance of the
+      friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his eyes and hands in
+      a sort of wonder at the sudden change in Romeo&rsquo;s affections, for he
+      had been privy to all Romeo&rsquo;s love for Rosaline and his many
+      complaints of her disdain; and he said that young men&rsquo;s love lay not
+      truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. But Romeo replying that he
+      himself had often chidden him for doting on Rosaline, who could not love
+      him again, whereas Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the friar
+      assented in some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial
+      alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might happily be the means of
+      making up the long breach between the Capulets and the Montagues, which no
+      one more lamented than this good friar who was a friend to both the
+      families and had often interposed his mediation to make up the quarrel
+      without effect; partly moved by policy, and partly by his fondness for
+      young Romeo, to whom he could deny nothing, the old man consented to join
+      their hands in marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent from a
+      messenger which she had despatched according to promise, did not fail to
+      be early at the cell of Friar Lawrence, where their hands were joined in
+      holy marriage, the good friar praying the heavens to smile upon that act,
+      and in the union of this young Montague and young Capulet, to bury the old
+      strife and long dissensions of their families.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed, impatient
+      for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised to come and meet her
+      in the orchard, where they had met the night before; and the time between
+      seemed as tedious to her as the night before some great festival seems to
+      an impatient child that has got new finery which it may not put on till
+      the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same day, about noon, Romeo&rsquo;s friends, Benvolio and Mercutio,
+      walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a party of the Capulets
+      with the impetuous Tybalt at their head. This was the same angry Tybalt
+      who would have fought with Romeo at old Lord Capulet&rsquo;s feast. He,
+      seeing Mercutio, accused him bluntly of associating with Romeo, a
+      Montague. Mercutio, who had as much fire and youthful blood in him as
+      Tybalt, replied to this accusation with some sharpness; and in spite of
+      all Benvolio could say to moderate their wrath a quarrel was beginning
+      when, Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from
+      Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of villain.
+      Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all men, because he was
+      the kinsman of Juliet and much beloved by her; besides, this young
+      Montague had never thoroughly entered into the family quarrel, being by
+      nature wise and gentle, and the name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady&rsquo;s
+      name, was now rather a charm to allay resentment than a watchword to
+      excite fury. So he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by
+      the name of GOOD CAPULET, as if he, though a Montague, had some secret
+      pleasure in uttering that name; but Tybalt, who hated all Montagues as he
+      hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his weapon; and Mercutio, who
+      knew not of Romeo&rsquo;s secret motive for desiring peace with Tybalt,
+      but looked upon his present forbearance as a sort of calm dishonorable
+      submission, with many disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution
+      of his first quarrel with him; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till
+      Mercutio fell, receiving his death&rsquo;s wound while Romeo and Benvolio
+      were vainly endeavoring to part the combatants. Mercutio being dead, Romeo
+      kept his temper no longer, but returned the scornful appellation of
+      villain which Tybalt had given him, and they fought till Tybalt was slain
+      by Romeo. This deadly broil falling out in the midst of Verona at noonday,
+      the news of it quickly brought a crowd of citizens to the spot and among
+      them the Lords Capulet and Montague, with their wives; and soon after
+      arrived the prince himself, who, being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt
+      had slain, and having had the peace of his government often disturbed by
+      these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came determined to put the law in
+      strictest force against those who should be found to be offenders.
+      Benvolio, who had been eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the
+      prince to relate the origin of it; which he did, keeping as near the truth
+      as he could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part which
+      his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief for the loss of
+      her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her revenge, exhorted the
+      prince to do strict justice upon his murderer, and to,pay no attention to
+      Benvolio&rsquo;s representation, who, being Romeo&rsquo;s friend and a
+      Montague, spoke partially. Thus she pleaded against her new son-in-law,
+      but she knew not yet that he was her son-in-law and Juliet&rsquo;s
+      husband. On the other hand was to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her
+      child&rsquo;s life, and arguing with some justice that Romeo had done
+      nothing worthy of punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was
+      already forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The prince,
+      unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a careful
+      examination of the facts pronounced his sentence, and by that sentence
+      Romeo was banished from Verona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride and now
+      by this decree seemed everlastingly divorced! When the tidings reached
+      her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo, who had slain her dear
+      cousin. She called him a beautiful tyrant, a fiend angelical, a ravenous
+      dove, a lamb with a wolf&rsquo;s nature, a serpent-heart hid with a
+      flowering face, and other, like contradictory names, which denoted the
+      struggles in her mind between her love and her resentment. But in the end
+      love got the mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo
+      had slain her cousin turned to drops of joy that her husband lived whom
+      Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they were altogether
+      of grief for Romeo&rsquo;s banishment. That word was more terrible to her
+      than the death of many Tybalts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Romeo, after the fray, had taken refuge in Friar Lawrence&rsquo;s cell,
+      where he was first made acquainted with the prince&rsquo;s sentence, which
+      seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it appeared there was
+      no world out of Verona&rsquo;s walls, no living out of the sight of
+      Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and all beyond was purgatory,
+      torture, hell. The good friar would have applied the consolation of
+      philosophy to his griefs; but this frantic young man would hear of none,
+      but like a madman he tore his hair and threw himself all along upon the
+      ground, as he said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly
+      state he was roused by a message from his dear lady which a little revived
+      him; and then the friar took the advantage to expostulate with him on the
+      unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain Tybalt, but would he
+      also slay himself, slay his dear lady, who lived but in his life? The
+      noble form of man, he said, was but a shape of wax when it wanted the
+      courage which should keep it firm. The law had been lenient to him that
+      instead of death, which he had incurred, had pronounced by the prince&rsquo;s
+      mouth only banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain
+      him-there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive and (beyond
+      all hope) had become his dear wife; therein he was most happy. All these
+      blessings, as the friar made them out to be, did Romeo put from him like a
+      sullen misbehaved wench. And the friar bade him beware, for such as
+      despaired (he said) died miserable. Then when Romeo was a little calmed he
+      counseled him that he should go that night and secretly take his leave of
+      Juliet, and thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should
+      sojourn till the friar found fit occasion to publish his marriage, which
+      might be a joyful means of reconciling their families; and then he did not
+      doubt but the prince would be moved to pardon him, and he would return
+      with twenty times more joy than he went forth with grief. Romeo was
+      convinced by these wise counsels of the friar, and took his leave to go
+      and seek his lady, proposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak
+      pursue his journey alone to Mantua; to which place the good friar promised
+      to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him with the state of
+      affairs at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret admission to
+      her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard her confession of love
+      the night before. That had been a night of unmixed joy and rapture; but
+      the pleasures of this night and the delight which these lovers took in
+      each other&rsquo;s society were sadly allayed with the prospect of parting
+      and the fatal adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to
+      come too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark she
+      would have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which sings by
+      night; but it was too truly the lark which sang, and a discordant and
+      unpleasing note it seemed to her; and the streaks of day in the east too
+      certainly pointed out that it was time for these lovers to part. Romeo
+      took his leave of his dear wife with a heavy heart, promising to write to
+      her from Mantua every hour in the day; and when he had descended from her
+      chamber window, as he stood below her on the ground, in that sad
+      foreboding state of mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one
+      dead in the bottom of a tomb. Romeo&rsquo;s mind misgave him in like
+      manner. But now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him
+      to be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was but the beginning of the tragedy of this pair of star- crossed
+      lovers. Romeo had not been gone many days before the old Lord Capulet
+      proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had chosen for her, not
+      dreaming that she was married already, was Count Paris, a gallant, young,
+      and noble gentleman, no unworthy suitor to the young Juliet if she had
+      never seen Romeo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father&rsquo;s offer.
+      She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent death of Tybalt,
+      which had left her spirits too weak to meet a husband with any face of
+      joy, and how indecorous it would show for the family of the Capulets to be
+      celebrating a nuptial feast when his funeral solemnities were hardly over.
+      She pleaded every reason against the match but the true one, namely, that
+      she was married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses, and
+      in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the following
+      Thursday she should be married to Paris. And having found her a husband,
+      rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest maid in Verona might joyfully
+      accept, he could not bear that out of an affected coyness, as he construed
+      her denial, she should oppose obstacles to her own good fortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this extremity Juliet applied to the friendly friar, always a counselor
+      in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to undertake a
+      desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go into the grave alive
+      rather than marry Paris, her own dear husband living, he directed her to
+      go home, and appear merry, and give her consent to marry Paris, according
+      to her father&rsquo;s desire, and on the next night, which was the night
+      before the marriage, to drink off the contents of a vial which he then
+      gave her, the effect of which would be that for two-and-forty hours after
+      drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless, and when the bridegroom
+      came to fetch her in the morning he would find her to appearance dead;
+      that then she would be borne, as the manner in that country was, uncovered
+      on a bier, to be buried in the family vault; that if she could put off
+      womanish fear, and consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours
+      after swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would be
+      sure to awake, as from a dream; and before she should awake he would let
+      her husband know their drift, and he should come in the night and bear her
+      thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of marrying Paris, gave young Juliet
+      strength to undertake this horrible adventure; and she took the vial of
+      the friar, promising to observe his directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Going from the monastery, she met the young Count Paris, and, modestly
+      dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was joyful news to the
+      Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put youth into the old man; and
+      Juliet, who had displeased him exceedingly by her refusal of the count,
+      was his darling again, now she promised to be obedient. All things in the
+      house were in a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was
+      spared to prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before
+      witnessed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many
+      misgivings lest the friar, to avoid the blame which might be imputed to
+      him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison; but then he was
+      always known for a holy man. Then lest she should awake before the time
+      that Romeo was to come for her; whether the terror of the place, a vault
+      full of dead Capulets&rsquo; bones, and where Tybalt, all bloody, lay
+      festering in his shroud, would not be enough to drive her distracted.
+      Again she thought of all the stories she had heard of spirits haunting the
+      places where their bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo and
+      her aversion for Paris returned, and she desperately swallowed the draught
+      and became insensible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken his bride,
+      instead of a living Juliet her chamber presented the dreary spectacle of a
+      lifeless corse. What death to his hopes! What confusion then reigned
+      through the whole house! Poor Paris lamenting his bride, whom most
+      detestable death had beguiled him of, had divorced from him even before
+      their hands were joined. But still more piteous it was to hear the
+      mournings of the old Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one
+      poor loving child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death had snatched her
+      from their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of
+      seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and advantageous
+      match. Now all things that were ordained for the festival were turned from
+      their properties to do the office of a black funeral. The wedding cheer
+      served for a sad burial feast, the bridal hymns were changed for sullen
+      dirges, the sprightly instruments to melancholy.bells, and the flowers
+      that should have been strewed in the bride&rsquo;s path now served but to
+      strew her corse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was
+      needed to bury her, and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment the
+      cheerful hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers of the dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the dismal
+      story of his Juliet&rsquo;s death to Romeo, at Mantua, before the
+      messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Lawrence to apprise him
+      that these were mock funerals only, and but the shadow and representation
+      of death, and that his dear lady lay in the tomb but for a short while,
+      expecting when Romeo would come to release her from that dreary mansion.
+      Just before, Romeo had been unusually joyful and light-hearted. He had
+      dreamed in the night that he was dead (a strange dream, that gave a dead
+      man leave to think) and that his lady came and found him dead, and
+      breathed such life with kisses in his lips that he revived and was an
+      emperor! And now that a messenger came from Verona, he thought surely it
+      was to confirm some good news which his dreams had presaged. But when the
+      contrary to this flattering vision appeared, and that it was his lady who
+      was dead in truth, whom he could not revive by any kisses, he ordered
+      horses to be got ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona and
+      to see his lady in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the
+      thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary, whose shop
+      in Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly appearance of the
+      man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show in his show of empty boxes
+      ranged on dirty shelves, and other tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had
+      said at the time (perhaps having some misgivings that his own disastrous
+      life might haply meet with a conclusion so desperate):
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is
+      death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These words of his now came into his mind and he sought out the
+      apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him gold,
+      which his poverty could not resist, sold him a poison which, if he
+      swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of twenty men, would
+      quickly despatch him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his dear lady
+      in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight, to swallow the
+      poison and be buried by her side. He reached Verona at midnight, and found
+      the churchyard in the midst of which was situated the ancient tomb of the
+      Capulets. He had provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching-iron, and
+      was proceeding to break open the monument when he was interrupted by a
+      voice, which by the name of VILE MONTAGUE bade him desist from his
+      unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come to the tomb
+      of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night to strew flowers and to weep
+      over the grave of her that should have been his bride. He knew not what an
+      interest Romeo had in the dead, but, knowing him to be a Montague and (as
+      he supposed) a sworn foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come
+      by night to do some villainous shame to the dead bodies; therefore in an
+      angry tone he bade him desist; and as a criminal, condemned by the laws of
+      Verona to die if he were found within the walls of the city, he would have
+      apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to leave him, and warned him by the
+      fate of Tybalt, who lay buried there, not to provoke his anger or draw
+      down another sin upon his head by forcing him to kill him. But the count
+      in scorn refused his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which,
+      Romeo resisting, they fought, and Paris fell. When Romeo, by the help of a
+      light, came to see who it was that he had slain, that it was Paris, who
+      (he learned in his way from Mantua) should have married Juliet, he took
+      the dead youth by the hand, as one whom misfortune had made a companion,
+      and said that he would bury him in a triumphal grave, meaning in Juliet&rsquo;s
+      grave, which he now opened. And there lay his lady, as one whom death had
+      no power upon to change a feature or complexion, in her matchless beauty;
+      or as if death were amorous, and the lean, abhorred monster kept her there
+      for his delight; for she lay yet fresh and blooming, as she had fallen to
+      sleep when she swallowed that benumbing potion; and near her lay Tybalt in
+      his bloody shroud, whom Romeo seeing, begged pardon of his lifeless corse,
+      and for Juliet&rsquo;s sake called him COUSIN, and said that he was about
+      to do him a favor by putting his enemy to death. Here Romeo took his last
+      leave of his lady&rsquo;s lips, kissing them; and here he shook the burden
+      of his cross stars from his weary body, swallowing that poison which the
+      apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, not like that
+      dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the effect of which was now
+      nearly expiring, and she about to awake to complain that Romeo had not
+      kept his time, or that he had come too soon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For now the hour was arrived at which the friar had promised that she
+      should awake; and he, having learned that his letters which he had sent to
+      Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the messenger, had never reached
+      Romeo, came himself, provided with a pickax and lantern, to deliver the
+      lady from her confinement; but he was surprised to find a light already
+      burning in the Capulets&rsquo; monument, and to see swords and blood near
+      it, and Romeo and Paris lying breathless by the monument,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he could entertain a conjecture, to imagine how these fatal
+      accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance, and, seeing the
+      friar near her, she remembered the place where she was, and the occasion
+      of her being there, and asked for Romeo, but the friar, hearing a noise,
+      bade her come out of that place of death and of unnatural sleep, for a
+      greater power than they could contradict had thwarted their intents; and,
+      being frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled. But when Juliet
+      saw the cup closed in her true love&rsquo;s hands, she guessed that poison
+      had been the cause of his end, and she would have swallowed the dregs if
+      any had been left, and she kissed his still warm lips to try if any poison
+      yet did hang upon them; then hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she
+      quickly unsheathed a dagger which she wore, and, stabbing herself, died by
+      her true Romeo&rsquo;s side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The watch by this time had come up to the place. A page belonging to Count
+      Paris, who had witnessed the fight between his master and Romeo, had given
+      the alarm, which had spread among the citizens, who went up and down the
+      streets of Verona confusedly exclaiming, &ldquo;A Paris! a Romeo! a
+      Juliet!&rdquo; as the rumor had imperfectly reached them, till the uproar
+      brought Lord Montague and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the prince,
+      to inquire into the causes of the disturbance. The friar had been
+      apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard, trembling,
+      sighing, and weeping in a suspicious manner. A great multitude being
+      assembled at the Capulets&rsquo; monument, the friar was demanded by the
+      prince to deliver what he knew of these strange and disastrous accidents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there, in the presence of the old Lords Montague and Capulet, he
+      faithfully related the story of their children&rsquo;s fatal love, the
+      part he took in promoting their marriage, in the hope in that union to end
+      the long quarrels between their families; how Romeo, there dead, was
+      husband to Juliet, and Juliet, there dead, was Romeo&rsquo;s faithful
+      wife; how, before he could find a fit opportunity to divulge their
+      marriage, another match was projected for Juliet, who, to avoid the crime
+      of a second marriage, swallowed the sleeping-draught (as he advised), and
+      all thought her dead; how meantime he wrote to Romeo to come and take her
+      thence when the force of the potion should cease, and by what unfortunate
+      miscarriage of the messenger the letters never reached Romeo. Further than
+      this the friar could not follow the story, nor knew more than that, coming
+      himself to deliver Juliet from that place of death, he found the Count
+      Paris and Romeo slain. The remainder of the transactions was supplied by
+      the narration of the page who had seen Paris and Romeo fight, and by the
+      servant who came with Romeo from Verona, to whom this faithful lover had
+      given letters to be delivered to his father in the event of his death,
+      which made good the friar&rsquo;s words, confessing his marriage with
+      Juliet, imploring the forgiveness of his parents, acknowledging the buying
+      of the poison of the poor apothecary and his intent in coming to the
+      monument to die and lie with Juliet. All these circumstances agreed
+      together to clear the friar from any hand he could be supposed to have in
+      these complicated slaughters, further than as the unintended consequences
+      of his own well-meant, yet too artificial and subtle contrivances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the prince, turning to these old lords, Montague and Capulet, rebuked
+      them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed them what a
+      scourge Heaven had laid upon such offenses, that it had found means even
+      through the love of their children to punish their unnatural hate. And
+      these old rivals, no longer enemies, agreed to bury their long strife in
+      their children&rsquo;s graves; and Lord Capulet requested Lord Montague to
+      give him his hand, calling him by the name of brother, as if in
+      acknowledgment of the union of their families by the marriage of the young
+      Capulet and Montague; and saying that Lord Montague&rsquo;s hand (in token
+      of reconcilement) was all he demanded for his daughter&rsquo;s jointure.
+      But Lord Montague said he would give him more, for he would raise her a
+      statue of pure gold that, while Verona kept its name, no figure should be
+      so esteemed for its richness and workmanship as that of the true and
+      faithful Juliet. And Lord Capulet in return said that he would raise
+      another statue to Romeo. So did these poor old lords, when it was too
+      late, strive to outgo each other in mutual courtesies; while so deadly had
+      been their rage and enmity in past times that nothing but the fearful
+      overthrow of their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and
+      dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the noble
+      families.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap18"></a>HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK</h2>
+    <p>
+      Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, becoming a widow by the sudden death of King
+      Hamlet, in less than two months after his death married his brother
+      Claudius, which was noted by all people at the tim for a strange act of
+      indiscretion, or unfeelingness, or worse; for this Claudius did no way
+      resemble her late husband in the qualities of his person or his mind, but
+      was as contemptible in outward appearance as he was base and unworthy in
+      disposition; and suspicions did not fail to arise in the minds of some
+      that he had privately made away with his brother, the late king, with the
+      view of marrying his widow and ascending the throne of Denmark, to the
+      exclusion of young Hamlet, the son of the buried king and lawful successor
+      to the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But upon no one did this unadvised action of the queen make such
+      impression as upon this young prince, who loved and venerated the memory
+      of his dead father almost to idolatry, and, being of a nice sense of honor
+      and a most exquisite practiser of propriety himself, did sorely take to
+      heart this unworthy conduct of his mother Gertrude; in so much that,
+      between grief for his father&rsquo;s death and shame for his mother&rsquo;s
+      marriage, this young prince was overclouded with a deep melancholy, and
+      lost all his mirth and all his good looks; all his customary pleasure in
+      books forsook him, his princely exercises and sports, proper to his youth,
+      were no longer acceptable; he grew weary of the world, which seemed to him
+      an unweeded garden, where all the wholesome flowers were choked up and
+      nothing but weeds could thrive. Not that the prospect of exclusion from
+      the throne, his lawful inheritance, weighed so much upon his spirits,
+      though that to a young and high-minded prince was a bitter wound and a
+      sore indignity; but what so galled him and took away all his cheerful
+      spirits was that his mother had shown herself so forgetful to his father&rsquo;s
+      memory, and such a father! who had been to her so loving and so gentle a
+      husband! and then she always appeared as loving and obedient a wife to
+      him, and would hang upon him as if her affection grew to him. And now
+      within two months, or, as it seemed to young Hamlet, less than two months,
+      she had married again, married his uncle, her dear husband&rsquo;s
+      brother, in itself a highly improper and unlawful marriage, from the
+      nearness of relationship, but made much more so by the indecent haste with
+      which it was concluded and the unkingly character of the man whom she had
+      chosen to be the partner of her throne and bed. This it was which more
+      than the loss of ten kingdoms dashed the spirits and brought a cloud over
+      the mind of this honorable young prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In vain was all that his mother Gertrude or the king could do to contrive
+      to divert him; he still appeared in court in a suit of deep black, as
+      mourning for the king his father&rsquo;s death, which mode of dress he had
+      never laid aside, not even in compliment to his mother upon the day she
+      was married, nor could he be brought to join in any of the festivities or
+      rejoicings of that (as appeared to him) disgraceful day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What mostly troubled him was an uncertainty about the manner of his father&rsquo;s
+      death. It was given out by Claudius that a serpent had stung him; but
+      young Hamlet had shrewd suspicions that Claudius himself was the serpent;
+      in plain English, that he had murdered him for his crown, and that the
+      serpent who stung his father did now sit on the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How far he was right in this conjecture and what he ought to think of his
+      mother, how far she was privy to this murder and whether by her consent or
+      knowledge, or without, it came to pass, were the doubts which continually
+      harassed and distracted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A rumor had reached the ear of young Hamlet that an apparition, exactly
+      resembling the dead king his father, had been seen by the soldiers upon
+      watch, on the platform before the palace at midnight, for two or three
+      nights successively. The figure came constantly clad in the same suit of
+      armor, from head to foot, which the dead king was known to have worn. And
+      they who saw it (Hamlet&rsquo;s bosom friend Horatio was one) agreed in
+      their testimony as to the time and manner of its appearance that it came
+      just as the clock struck twelve; that it looked pale, with a face more of
+      sorrow than of anger; that its beard was grisly, and the color a SABLE
+      SILVERED, as they had seen it in his lifetime; that it made no answer when
+      they spoke to it; yet once they thought it lifted up its head and
+      addressed itself to motion, as if it were about to speak; but in that
+      moment the morning cock crew and it shrank in haste away, and vanished out
+      of their sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young prince, strangely amazed at their relation, which was too
+      consistent and agreeing with itself to disbelieve, concluded that it was
+      his father&rsquo;s ghost which they had seen, and determined to take his
+      watch with the soldiers that night, that he might have a chance of seeing
+      it; for he reasoned with himself that such an appearance did not come for
+      nothing, but that the ghost had something to impart, and though it had
+      been silent hitherto, yet it would speak to him. And he waited with
+      impatience for the coming of night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When night came he took his stand with Horatio, and Marcellus, one of the
+      guard, upon the platform, where this apparition was accustomed to walk;
+      and it being a cold night, and the air unusually raw and nipping, Hamlet
+      and Horatio and their companion fell into some talk about the coldness of
+      the night, which was suddenly broken off by Horatio announcing that the
+      ghost was coming.
+    </p>
+
+<p>
+At the sight of his father&rsquo;s spirit Hamlet was struck with a sudden
+surprise and fear.&rsquo; He at first called upon the angels and heavenly
+ministers to defend them, for he knew not whether it were a good spirit or bad,
+whether it came for good or evil; but he gradually assumed more courage; and
+his father (as it seemed to him) looked upon him so piteously, and as it were
+desiring to have conversation with him, and did in all respects appear so like
+himself as he was when he lived, that Hamlet could not help addressing him. He
+called him by his name, &ldquo;Hamlet, King, Father!&rdquo; and conjured him
+that he would tell the reason why he had left his grave, where they had seen
+him quietly bestowed, to come again and visit the earth and the moonlight; and
+besought him that he would let them know if there was anything which they could
+do to give peace to his spirit. And the ghost beckoned to Hamlet, that he
+should go with him to some more removed place where they might be alone; and
+Horatio and Marcellus would have dissuaded the young prince from following it,
+for they feared lest it should be some evil spirit who would tempt him to the
+neighboring sea or to the top of some dreadful cliff, and there put on some
+horrible shape which might deprive the prince of his reason. But their counsels
+and entreaties could not alter Hamlet&rsquo;s determination, who cared too
+little about life to fear the losing of it; and as to his soul, he said, what
+could the spirit do to that, being a thing immortal as itself? And he felt as
+hardy as a lion, and, bursting from them, who did all they could to hold him,
+he followed whithersoever the spirit led him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when they were alone together, the spirit broke silence and told him that
+he was the ghost of Hamlet, his father, who had been cruelly murdered, and he
+told the manner of it; that it was done by his own brother Claudius,
+Hamlet&rsquo;s uncle, as Hamlet had already but too much suspected, for the
+hope of succeeding to his bed and crown. That as he was sleeping in his garden,
+his custom always in the afternoon, his treasonous brother stole upon him in
+his sleep and poured the juice of poisonous henbane into his ears, which has
+such an antipathy to the life of man that, swift as quicksilver, it courses
+through all the veins of the body, baking up the blood and spreading a
+crust-like leprosy all over the skin. Thus sleeping, by a brother&rsquo;s hand
+he was cut off at once from his crown, his queen, and his life; and he adjured
+Hamlet, if he did ever his dear father love, that he would revenge his foul
+murder. And the ghost lamented to his son that his mother should so fall off
+from virtue as to prove false to the wedded love of her first husband and to
+marry his murderer; but he cautioned Hamlet, howsoever he proceeded in his
+revenge against his wicked uncle, by no means to act any violence against the
+person of his mother, but to leave her to Heaven, and to the stings and thorns
+of conscience. And Hamlet promised to observe the ghost&rsquo;s direction in
+all things, and the ghost vanished.
+</p>
+
+    <p>
+      And when Hamlet was left alone he took up a solemn resolution that all he
+      had in his memory, all that he had ever learned by books or observation,
+      should be instantly forgotten by him, and nothing live in his brain but
+      the memory of what the ghost had told him and enjoined him to do. And
+      Hamlet related the particulars of the conversation which had passed to
+      none but his dear friend Horatio; and he enjoined both to him and
+      Marcellus the strictest secrecy as to what they had seen that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The terror which the sight of the ghost had left upon the senses of
+      Hamlet, he being weak and dispirited before, almost unhinged his mind and
+      drove him beside his reason. And he, fearing that it would continue to
+      have this effect, which might subject him to observation and set his uncle
+      upon his guard, if he suspected that he was meditating anything against
+      him, or that Hamlet really knew more of his father&rsquo;s death than he
+      professed, took up a strange resolution, from that time to counterfeit as
+      if he were really and truly mad; thinking that he would be less an object
+      of suspicion when his uncle should believe him incapable of any serious
+      project, and that his real perturbation of mind would be best covered and
+      pass concealed under a disguise of pretended lunacy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From this time Hamlet affected a certain wildness and strangeness in his
+      apparel, his speech, and behavior, and did so excellently counterfeit the
+      madman that the king and queen were both deceived, and not thinking his
+      grief for his father&rsquo;s death a sufficient cause to produce such a
+      distemper, for they knew not of the appearance of the ghost, they
+      concluded that his malady was love and they thought they had found out the
+      object.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Hamlet fell into the melancholy way which has been related he had
+      dearly loved a fair maid called Ophelia, the daughter of Polonius, the
+      king&rsquo;s chief counselor in affairs of state. He had sent her letters
+      and rings, and made many tenders of his affection to her, and importuned
+      her with love in honorable fashion; and she had given belief to his vows
+      and importunities. But the melancholy which he fell into latterly had made
+      him neglect her, and from the time he conceived the project of
+      counterfeiting madness he affected to treat her with unkindness and a sort
+      of rudeness; but she, good lady, rather than reproach him with being false
+      to her, persuaded herself that it was nothing but the disease in his mind,
+      and no settled unkindness, which had made him less observant of her than
+      formerly; and she compared the faculties of his once noble mind and
+      excellent understanding, impaired as they were with the deep melancholy
+      that oppressed him, to sweet bells which in themselves are capable of most
+      exquisite music, but when jangled out of tune, or rudely handled, produce
+      only a harsh and unpleasing sound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though the rough business which Hamlet had in hand, the revenging of his
+      father&rsquo;s death upon his murderer, did not suit with the playful
+      state of courtship, or admit of the society of so idle a passion as love
+      now seemed to him, yet it could not hinder but that soft thoughts of his
+      Ophelia would come between, and in one of these moments, when he thought
+      that his treatment of this gentle lady had been unreasonably harsh, he
+      wrote her a letter full of wild starts of passion, and in extravagant
+      terms, such as agreed with his supposed madness, but mixed with some
+      gentle touches of affection, which could not but show to this honored lady
+      that a deep love for her yet lay at the bottom of his heart. He bade her
+      to doubt the stars were fire, and to doubt that the sun did move, to doubt
+      truth to be a liar, but never to doubt that he loved; with more of such
+      extravagant phrases. This letter Ophelia dutifully showed to her father,
+      and the old man thought himself bound to communicate it to the king and
+      queen, who from that time supposed that the true cause of Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      madness was love. And the queen wished that the good beauties of Ophelia
+      might be the happy cause of his wildness, for so she hoped that her
+      virtues might happily restore him to his accustomed way again, to both
+      their honors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Hamlet&rsquo;s malady lay deeper than she supposed, or than could be
+      so cured. His father&rsquo;s ghost, which he had seen, still haunted his
+      imagination, and the sacred injunction to revenge his murder gave him no
+      rest till it was accomplished. Every hour of delay seemed to him a sin and
+      a violation of his father&rsquo;s commands. Yet how to compass the death
+      of the king, surrounded as he constantly was with his guards, was no easy
+      matter. Or if it had been, the presence of the queen, Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      mother, who was generally with the king, was a restraint upon his purpose,
+      which he could not break through. Besides, the very circumstance that the
+      usurper was his mother&rsquo;s husband, filled him with some remorse and
+      still blunted the edge of his purpose. The mere act of putting a
+      fellow-creature to death was in itself odious and terrible to a
+      disposition naturally so gentle as Hamlet&rsquo;s was. His very
+      melancholy, and the dejection of spirits he had so long been ill, produced
+      an irresoluteness and wavering of purpose which kept him from proceeding
+      to extremities. Moreover, he could not help having some scruples upon his
+      mind, whether the spirit which he had seen was indeed his father, or
+      whether it might not be the devil, who he had heard has power to take any
+      form he pleases, and who might have assumed his father&rsquo;s shape only
+      to take advantage of his weakness and his melancholy, to drive him to the
+      doing of so desperate an act as murder. And he determined that he would
+      have more certain grounds to go upon than a vision, or apparition, which
+      might be a delusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was in this irresolute mind there came to the court certain
+      players, in whom Hamlet formerly used to take delight, and particularly to
+      hear one of them speak a tragical speech, describing the death of old
+      Priam, King of Troy, with the grief of Hecuba his queen. Hamlet welcomed
+      his old friends, the players, and remembering how that speech had formerly
+      given him pleasure, requested the player to repeat it; which he did in so
+      lively a manner, setting forth the cruel murder of the feeble old king,
+      with the destruction of his people and city by fire, and the mad grief of
+      the old queen, running barefoot up and down the palace, with a poor clout
+      upon that head where a crown had been, and with nothing but a blanket upon
+      her loins, snatched up in haste, where she had worn a royal robe; that not
+      only it drew tears from all that stood by, who thought they saw the real
+      scene, so lively was it represented, but even the player himself delivered
+      it with a broken voice and real tears. This put Hamlet upon thinking, if
+      that player could so work himself up to passion by a mere fictitious
+      speech, to weep for one that he had never seen, for Hecuba, that had been
+      dead so many hundred years, how dull was he, who having a real motive and
+      cue for passion, a real king and a dear father murdered, was yet so little
+      moved that his revenge all this while had seemed to have slept in dull and
+      muddy forgetfulness! and while he meditated on actors and acting, and the
+      powerful effects which a good play, represented to the life, has upon the
+      spectator, he remembered the instance of some murderer, who, seeing a
+      murder on the stage, was by the mere force of the scene and resemblance of
+      circumstances so affected that on the spot he confessed the crime which he
+      had committed. And he determined that these players should play something
+      like the murder of his father before his uncle, and he would watch
+      narrowly what effect it might have upon him, and from his looks he would
+      be able to gather with more certainty if he were the murderer or not. To
+      this effect he ordered a play to be prepared, to the representation of
+      which he invited the king and queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The story of the play was of a murder done in Vienna upon a duke. The duke&rsquo;s
+      name was Gonzago, his wife&rsquo;s Baptista. The play showed how one
+      Lucianus, a near relation to the duke, poisoned him in his garden for his
+      estate, and how the murderer in a short time after got the love of Gonzago&rsquo;s
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the representation of this play, the king, who did not know the trap
+      which was laid for him, was present, with his queen and the whole court;
+      Hamlet sitting attentively near him to observe his looks. The play began
+      with a conversation between Gonzago and his wife, in which the lady made
+      many protestations of love, and of never marrying a second husband if she
+      should outlive Gonzago, wishing she might be accursed if she ever took a
+      second husband, and adding that no woman did so but those wicked women who
+      kill their first husbands. Hamlet observed the king his uncle change color
+      at this expression, and that it was as bad as wormwood both to him and to
+      the queen. But when Lucianus, according to the story, came to poison
+      Gonzago sleeping in the garden, the strong resemblance which it bore to
+      his own wicked act upon the late king, his brother, whom he had poisoned
+      in his garden, so struck upon the conscience of this usurper that he was
+      unable to sit out the rest of the play, but on a sudden calling for lights
+      to his chamber, and affecting or partly feeling a sudden sickness, he
+      abruptly left the theater. The king being departed, the play was given
+      over. Now Hamlet had seen enough to be satisfied that the words of the
+      ghost were true and no illusion; and in a fit of gaiety, like that which
+      comes over a man who suddenly has some great doubt or scruple resolved, he
+      swore to Horatio that he would take the ghost&rsquo;s word for a thousand
+      pounds. But before he could make up his resolution as to what measures of
+      revenge he should take, now he was certainly informed that his uncle was
+      his father&rsquo;s murderer, he was sent for by the queen his mother, to a
+      private conference in her closet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was by desire of the king that the queen sent for Hamlet, that she
+      might signify to her son how much his late behavior had displeased them
+      both, and the king, wishing to know all that passed at that conference,
+      and thinking that the too partial report of a mother might let slip some
+      part of Hamlet&rsquo;s words, which it might much import the king to know,
+      Polonius, the old counselor of state, was ordered to plant himself behind
+      the hangings in the queen&rsquo;s closet, where he might, unseen, hear all
+      that passed. This artifice was particularly adapted to the disposition of
+      Polonius, who was a man grown old in crooked maxims and policies of state,
+      and delighted to get at the knowledge of matters in an indirect and
+      cunning way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hamlet being come to his mother, she began to tax him in the roundest way
+      with his actions and behavior, and she told him that he had given great
+      offense to HIS FATHER, meaning the king, his uncle, whom, because he had
+      married her, she called Hamlet&rsquo;s father. Hamlet, sorely indignant
+      that she should give so dear and honored a name as father seemed to him to
+      a wretch who was indeed no better than the murderer of his true father,
+      with some sharpness replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, YOU have much offended MY FATHER.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen said that was but an idle answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As good as the question deserved,&rdquo; said Hamlet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The queen asked him if he had forgotten who it was he was speaking to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; replied Hamlet, &ldquo;I wish I could forget. You are
+      the queen, your husband&rsquo;s brother&rsquo;s wife; and you are my
+      mother. I wish you were not what you are.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, then,&rdquo; said the queen, &ldquo;if you show me so little
+      respect, I will set those to you that can speak,&rdquo; and was going to
+      send the king or Polonius to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Hamlet would not let her go, now he had her alone, till he had tried
+      if his words could not bring her to some sense of her wicked life; and,
+      taking her by the wrist, he held her fast, and made her sit down. She,
+      affrighted at his earnest manner, and fearful lest in his lunacy he should
+      do her a mischief, cried out; and a voice was heard from behind the
+      hangings, &ldquo;Help, help&rsquo; the queen!&rdquo; which Hamlet hearing,
+      and verily thinking that it was the king himself there concealed, he drew
+      his sword and stabbed at the place where the voice came from, as he would
+      have stabbed a rat that ran there, till, the voice ceasing, he concluded
+      the person to be dead. But when he dragged forth the body it was not the
+      king, but Polonius, the old, officious counselor, that had planted himself
+      as a spy behind the hangings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, me!&rdquo; exclaimed the queen, &ldquo;what a rash and bloody
+      deed have you done!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A bloody deed, mother,&rdquo; replied Hamlet, &ldquo;but not so bad
+      as yours, who killed a king, and married his brother.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hamlet had gone too far to leave off here. He was now in the humor to
+      speak plainly to his mother, and he pursued it. And though the faults of
+      parents are to be tenderly treated by their children, yet in the case of
+      great crimes the son may have leave to speak even to his own mother with
+      some harshness, so as that harshness is meant for her good and to turn her
+      from her wicked ways, and not done for the purpose of upbraiding. And now
+      this virtuous prince did in moving terms represent to the queen the
+      heinousness of her offense in being so forgetful of the dead king, his
+      father, as in so short a space of time to marry with his brother and
+      reputed murderer. Such an act as, after the vows which she had sworn to
+      her first husband, was enough to make all vows of women suspected and all
+      virtue to be accounted hypocrisy, wedding contracts to be less than
+      gamesters&rsquo; oaths, and religion to be a mockery and a mere form of
+      words. He said she had done such a deed that the heavens blushed at it,
+      and the earth was sick of her because of it. And he showed her two
+      pictures, the one of the late king, her first husband, and the other of
+      the present king, her second husband, and he bade her mark the difference;
+      what a grace was on the brow of his father, how like a god he looked! the
+      curls of Apollo, the forehead of Jupiter, the eye of Mars, and a posture
+      like to Mercury newly alighted on some heaven-kissing hill! this man, he
+      said, HAD BEEN her husband. And then be showed her whom she had got in his
+      stead; how like a blight or a mildew he looked, for so he had blasted his
+      wholesome brother. And the queen was sore ashamed that he should so turn
+      her eyes inward upon her soul, which she now saw so black and deformed.
+      And he asked her how she could continue to live with this man, and be a
+      wife to him, who had murdered her first husband and got the crown by as
+      false means as a thief&mdash;and just as he spoke the ghost of his father,
+      such as he was in his lifetime and such as he had lately seen it, entered
+      the room, and Hamlet, in great terror, asked what it would have; and the
+      ghost said that it came to remind him of the revenge he had promised,
+      which Hamlet seemed to have forgot; and the ghost bade him speak to his
+      mother, for the grief and terror she was in would else kill her. It then
+      vanished, and was seen by none but Hamlet, neither could he by pointing to
+      where it stood, or by any description, make his mother perceive it, who
+      was terribly frightened all this while to hear him conversing, as it
+      seemed to her, with nothing; and she imputed it to the disorder of his
+      mind. But Hamlet begged her not to flatter her wicked soul in such a
+      manner as to think that it was his madness, and not her own offenses,
+      which had brought his father&rsquo;s spirit again on the earth. And he
+      bade her feel his pulse, how temperately it beat, not like a madman&rsquo;s.
+      And he begged of her, with tears, to confess herself to Heaven for what
+      was past, and for the future to avoid the company of the king and be no
+      more as a wife to him; and when she should show herself a mother to him,
+      by respecting his father&rsquo;s memory, he would ask a blessing of her as
+      a son. And she promising to observe his directions, the conference ended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Hamlet was at leisure to consider who it was that in his
+      unfortunate rashness he had killed; and when he came to see that it was
+      Polonius, the father of the Lady Ophelia whom he so dearly loved, he drew
+      apart the dead body, and, his spirits being now a little quieter, he wept
+      for what he had done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The unfortunate death of Polonius gave the king a pretense for sending
+      Hamlet out of the kingdom. He would willingly have put him to death,
+      fearing him as dangerous; but he dreaded the people, who loved Hamlet, and
+      the queen, who, with all her faults, doted upon the prince, her son. So
+      this subtle king, under pretense of providing for Hamlet&rsquo;s safety,
+      that he might not be called to account for Polonius&rsquo;s death, caused
+      him to be conveyed on board a ship bound for England, under the care of
+      two courtiers, by whom he despatched letters to the English court, which
+      in that time was in subjection and paid tribute to Denmark, requiring, for
+      special reasons there pretended, that Hamlet should be put to death as
+      soon as he landed on English ground. Hamlet, suspecting some treachery, in
+      the nighttime secretly got at the letters, and, skilfully erasing his own
+      name, he in the stead of it put in the names of those two courtiers, who
+      had the charge of him, to be put to death; then sealing up the letters, he
+      put them into their place again. Soon after the ship was attacked by
+      pirates, and a sea-fight commenced, in the course of which Hamlet,
+      desirous to show his valor, with sword in hand singly boarded the enemy&rsquo;s
+      vessel; while his own ship, in a cowardly manner, bore away; and leaving
+      him to his fate, the two courtiers made the best of their way to England,
+      charged with those letters the sense of which Hamlet had altered to their
+      own deserved destruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pirates who had the prince in their power showed themselves gentle
+      enemies, and, knowing whom they had got prisoner, in the hope that the
+      prince might do them a good turn at court in recompense for any favor they
+      might show him, they set Hamlet on shore at the nearest port in Denmark.
+      From that place Hamlet wrote to the king, acquainting him with the strange
+      chance which had brought him back to his own country and saying that on
+      the next day he should present himself before his Majesty. When he got
+      home a sad spectacle offered itself the first thing to his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the funeral of the young and beautiful Ophelia, his once dear
+      mistress. The wits of this young lady had begun to turn ever since her
+      poor father&rsquo;s death. That he should die a violent death, and by the
+      hands of the prince whom she loved, so affected this tender young maid
+      that in a little time she grew perfectly distracted, and would go about
+      giving flowers away to the ladies of the court, and saying that they were
+      for her father&rsquo;s burial, singing songs about love and about death,
+      and sometimes such as had no meaning at all, as if she had no memory of
+      what happened to her. There was a willow which grew slanting over a brook,
+      and reflected its leaves on the stream. To this brook she came one day
+      when she was unwatched, with garlands she had been making, mixed up of
+      daisies and nettles, flowers and weeds together, and clambering up to bang
+      her garland upon the boughs of the willow, a bough broke and precipitated
+      this fair young maid, garland, and all that she had gathered, into the
+      water, where her clothes bore her up for a while, during which she chanted
+      scraps of old tunes, like one insensible to her own distress, or as if she
+      were a creature natural to that element; but long it was not before her
+      garments, heavy with the wet, pulled her in from her melodious singing to
+      a muddy and miserable death. It was the funeral of this fair maid which
+      her brother Laertes was celebrating, the king and queen and whole court
+      being present, when Hamlet arrived. He knew not what all this show
+      imported, but stood on one side, not inclining to interrupt the ceremony.
+      He saw the flowers strewed upon her grave, as the custom was in maiden
+      burials, which the queen herself threw in; and as she threw them she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bride bed, sweet
+      maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have been my Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he heard her brother wish that violets might spring from her grave;
+      and he saw him leap into the grave all frantic with grief, and bid the
+      attendants pile mountains of earth upon him, that he might be buried with
+      her. And Hamlet&rsquo;s love for this fair maid came back to him, and he
+      could not bear that a brother should show so much transport of grief, for
+      he thought that he loved Ophelia better than forty thousand brothers. Then
+      discovering himself, he leaped into the grave where Laertes was, all as
+      frantic or more frantic than he, and Laertes, knowing him to be Hamlet,
+      who had been the cause of his father&rsquo;s and his sister&rsquo;s death,
+      grappled him by the throat as an enemy, till the attendants parted them;
+      and Hamlet, after the funeral, excused his hasty act in throwing himself
+      into the grave as if to brave Laertes; but he said he could not bear that
+      any one should seem to outgo him in grief for the death of the fair
+      Ophelia. And for the time these two noble youths seemed reconciled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But out of the grief and anger of Laertes for the death of his father and
+      Ophelia the king, Hamlet&rsquo;s wicked uncle, contrived destruction for
+      Hamlet. He set on Laertes, under cover of peace and reconciliation, to
+      challenge Hamlet to a friendly trial of skill at fencing, which Hamlet
+      accepting, a day was appointed to try the match. At this match all the
+      court was present, and Laertes, by direction of the king, prepared a
+      poisoned weapon. Upon this match great wagers were laid by the courtiers,
+      as both Hamlet and Laertes were known to excel at this sword play; and
+      Hamlet, taking up the foils, chose one, not at all suspecting the
+      treachery of Laertes, or being careful to examine Laertes&rsquo;s weapon,
+      who, instead of a foil or blunted sword, which the laws of fencing
+      require, made use of one with a point, and poisoned. At first Laertes did
+      but play with Hamlet, and suffered him to gain some advantages, which the
+      dissembling king magnified and extolled beyond measure, drinking to Hamlet&rsquo;s
+      success and wagering rich bets upon the issue. But after a few pauses
+      Laertes, growing warm, made a deadly thrust at Hamlet with his poisoned
+      weapon, and gave him a mortal blow. Hamlet, incensed, but not knowing,the
+      whole of the treachery, in the scuffle exchanged his own innocent weapon
+      for Laertes&rsquo;s deadly one, and with a thrust of Laertes&rsquo;s own
+      sword repaid Laertes home, who was thus justly caught in his own
+      treachery. In this instant the queen shrieked out that she was poisoned.
+      She had inadvertently drunk out of a bowl which the king had prepared for
+      Hamlet, in case that, being warm in fencing, he should call for drink;
+      into this the treacherous king had infused a deadly poison, to make sure
+      of Hamlet, if Laertes had failed. He had forgotten to warn the queen of
+      the bowl, which she drank of, and immediately died, exclaiming with her
+      last breath that she was poisoned. Hamlet, suspecting some treachery,
+      ordered the doors to be shut while he sought it out. Laertes told him to
+      seek no farther, for he was the traitor; and feeling his life go away with
+      the wound which Hamlet had given him, he made confession of the treachery
+      he had used and how he had fallen a victim to it: and he told Hamlet of
+      the envenomed point, and said that Hamlet had not half an hour to live,
+      for no medicine could cure him; and begging forgiveness of Hamlet, he
+      died, with his last words accusing the king of being the contriver of the
+      mischief. When Hamlet saw his end draw near, there being yet some venom
+      left upon the sword, he suddenly turned upon his false uncle and thrust
+      the point of it to his heart, fulfilling the promise which he had made to
+      his father&rsquo;s spirit, whose injunction was now accomplished and his
+      foul murder revenged upon the murderer. Then Hamlet, feeling his breath
+      fail and life departing, turned to his dear friend Horatio, who had been
+      spectator of this fatal tragedy; and with his dying breath requested him
+      that he would live to tell his story to the world (for Horatio had made a
+      motion as if he would slay himself to accompany the prince in death), and
+      Horatio promised that he would make a true report as one that was privy to
+      all the circumstances. And, thus satisfied, the noble heart of Hamlet
+      cracked; and Horatio and the bystanders with many tears commended the
+      spirit of this sweet prince to the guardianship of angels. For Hamlet was
+      a loving and a gentle prince and greatly beloved for his many noble and
+      princelike qualities; and if he had lived, would no doubt have proved a
+      most royal and complete king to Denmark.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap19"></a>OTHELLO</h2>
+    <p>
+      Brabantio, the rich senator of Venice, had a fair daughter, the gentle
+      Desdemona. She was sought to by divers suitors, both on account of her
+      many virtuous qualities and for her rich expectations. But among the
+      suitors of her own clime and complexion she saw none whom she could
+      affect, for this noble lady, who regarded the mind more than the features
+      of men, with a singularity rather to be admired than imitated had chosen
+      for the object of her affections a Moor, a black, whom her father loved
+      and often invited to his house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither is Desdemona to be altogether condemned for the unsuitableness of
+      the person whom she selected for her lover. Bating that Othello was black,
+      the noble Moor wanted nothing which might recommend him to the affections
+      of the greatest lady. He was a soldier, and a brave one; and by his
+      conduct in bloody wars against the Turks had risen to the rank of general
+      in the Venetian service, and was esteemed and trusted by the state.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had been a traveler, and Desdemona (as is the manner of ladies) loved
+      to hear him tell the story of his adventures, which he would run through
+      from his earliest recollection; the battles, sieges, and encounters which
+      he had passed through; the perils he had been exposed to by land and by
+      water; his hair-breadth escapes, when he had entered a breach or marched
+      up to the mouth of a cannon; and how he had been taken prisoner by the
+      insolent enemy, and sold to slavery; how he demeaned himself in that
+      state, and how he escaped: all these accounts, added to the narration of
+      the strange things he had seen in foreign countries, the vast wilderness
+      and romantic caverns, the quarries, the rocks and mountains whose heads
+      are in the clouds; of the savage nations, the cannibals who are
+      man-eaters, and a race of people in Africa whose heads do grow beneath
+      their shoulders. These travelers&rsquo; stories would so enchain the
+      attention of Desdemona that if she were called off at any time by
+      household affairs she would despatch with all haste that business, and
+      return, and with a greedy ear devour Othello&rsquo;s discourse. And once
+      he took advantage of a pliant hour and drew from her a prayer that he
+      would tell her the whole story of his life at large, of which she had
+      heard so much, but only by parts. To which he consented, and beguiled her
+      of many a tear when he spoke of some distressful stroke which his youth
+      had suffered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His story being done, she gave him for his pains a world of sighs. She
+      swore a pretty oath that it was all passing strange, and pitiful, wondrous
+      pitiful. She wished (she said) she had not heard it, yet she wished that
+      Heaven had made her such a man; and then she thanked him, and told him, if
+      he had a friend who loved her, he had only to teach him how to tell his
+      story and that would woo her. Upon this hint, delivered not with more
+      frankness than modesty, accompanied with certain bewitching prettiness and
+      blushes, which Othello could not but understand, he spoke more openly of
+      his love, and in this golden opportunity gained the consent of the
+      generous Lady Desdemona privately to marry him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither Othello&rsquo;s color nor his fortune was such that it could be
+      hoped Brabantio would accept him for a son-in-law. He had left his
+      daughter free; but he did expect that, as the manner of noble Venetian
+      ladies was, she would choose erelong a husband of senatorial rank or
+      expectations; but in this he was deceived. Desdemona loved the Moor,
+      though he was black, and devoted her heart and fortunes to his valiant
+      parts and qualities. So was her heart subdued to an implicit devotion to
+      the man she had selected for a husband that his very color, which to all
+      but this discerning lady would have proved an insurmountable objection,
+      was by her esteemed above all the white skins and clear complexions of the
+      young Venetian nobility, her suitors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Their marriage, which, though privately carried, could not long be kept a
+      secret, came to the ears of the old man, Brabantio, who appeared in a
+      solemn council of the senate as an accuser of the Moor Othello, who by
+      spells and witchcraft (he maintained) had seduced the affections of the
+      fair Desdemona to marry him, without the consent of her father, and
+      against the obligations of hospitality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture of time it happened that the state of Venice had
+      immediate need of the services of Othello, news having arrived that the
+      Turks with mighty preparation had fitted out a fleet, which was bending
+      its course to the island of Cyprus, with intent to regain that strong post
+      from the Venetians, who then held it; in this emergency the state turned
+      its eyes upon Othello, who alone was deemed adequate to conduct the
+      defense of Cyprus against the Turks. So that Othello, now summoned before
+      the senate, stood in their presence at once as a candidate for a great
+      state employment and as a culprit charged with offenses which by the laws
+      of Venice were made capital.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The age and senatorial character of old Brabantio commanded a most patient
+      hearing from that grave assembly; but the incensed father conducted his
+      accusation with so much intemperance, producing likelihoods and
+      allegations for proofs, that, when Othello was called upon for his
+      defense, he had only to relate a plain tale of the course of his love;
+      which he did with such an artless eloquence, recounting the whole story of
+      his wooing as we have related it above, and delivered his speech with so
+      noble a plainness (the evidence of truth) that the duke, who sat as chief
+      judge, could not help confessing that a tale so told would have won his
+      daughter, too, and the spells and conjurations which Othello had used in
+      his courtship plainly appeared to have been no more than the honest arts
+      of men in love, and the only witchcraft which he had used the faculty of
+      telling a soft tale to win a lady&rsquo;s ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This statement of Othello was confirmed by the testimony of the Lady
+      Desdemona herself, who appeared in court and, professing a duty to her
+      father for life and education, challenged leave of him to profess a yet
+      higher duty to her lord and husband, even so much as her mother had shown
+      in preferring him (Brabantio) above HER father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old senator, unable to maintain his plea, called the Moor to him with
+      many expressions of sorrow, and, as an act of necessity, bestowed upon him
+      his daughter, whom, if he had been free to withhold her (he told him), he
+      would with all his heart have kept from him; adding that he was glad at
+      soul that he had no other child, for this behavior of Desdemona would have
+      taught him to be a tyrant and hang clogs on them for her desertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This difficulty being got over, Othello, to whom custom had rendered the
+      hardships of a military life as natural as food and rest are to other men,
+      readily undertook the management of the wars in Cyprus; and Desdemona,
+      preferring the honor of her lord (though with danger) before the
+      indulgence of those idle delights in which new-married people usually
+      waste their time, cheerfully consented to his going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner were Othello and his lady landed in Cyprus than news arrived
+      that a desperate tempest had dispersed the Turkish fleet, and thus the
+      island was secure from any immediate apprehension of an attack. But the
+      war which Othello was to suffer was now beginning; and the enemies which
+      malice stirred up against his innocent lady proved in their nature more
+      deadly than strangers or infidels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Among all the general&rsquo;s friends no one possessed the confidence of
+      Othello more entirely than Cassio. Michael Cassio was a young soldier, a
+      Florentine, gay, amorous, and of pleasing address, favorite qualities with
+      women; he was handsome and eloquent, and exactly such a person as might
+      alarm the jealousy of a man advanced in years (as Othello in some measure
+      was) who had married a young and beautiful wife; but Othello was as free
+      from jealousy as he was noble, and as incapable of suspecting as of doing
+      a base action. He had employed this Cassio in his love affair with
+      Desdemona, and Cassio had been a sort of go-between in his suit; for
+      Othello, fearing that himself had not those soft parts of conversation
+      which please ladies, and finding these qualities in his friend, would
+      often depute Cassio to go (as he phrased it) a-courting for him, such
+      innocent simplicity being rather an honor than a blemish to the character
+      of the valiant Moor. So that no wonder if, next to Othello himself (but at
+      far distance, as beseems a virtuous wife), the gentle Desdemona loved and
+      trusted Cassio. Nor had the marriage of this couple made any difference in
+      their behavior to Michael Cassio. He frequented their house, and his free
+      and rattling talk was no unpleasing variety to Othello, who was himself of
+      a more serious temper; for such tempers are observed often to delight in
+      their contraries, as a relief from the oppressive excess of their own; and
+      Desdemona and Cassio would talk and laugh together, as in the days when he
+      went a-courting for his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello had lately promoted Cassio to be the lieutenant, a place of trust,
+      and nearest to the general&rsquo;s person. This promotion gave great
+      offense to Iago, an older officer who thought he had a better claim than
+      Cassio, and would often ridicule Cassio as a fellow fit only for the
+      company of ladies and one that knew no more of the art of war or how to
+      set an army in array for battle than a girl. Iago hated Cassio, and he
+      hated Othello as well for favoring Cassio as for an unjust suspicion,
+      which he had lightly taken up against Othello, that the Moor was too fond
+      of Iago&rsquo;s wife Emilia. From these imaginary provocations the
+      plotting mind of Iago conceived a horrid scheme of revenge, which should
+      involve Cassio, the Moor, and Desdemona in one common ruin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iago was artful, and had studied human nature deeply, and he knew that of
+      all the torments which afflict the mind of man (and far beyond bodily
+      torture) the pains of jealousy were the most intolerable and had the
+      sorest sting. If he could succeed in making Othello jealous of Cassio he
+      thought it would be an exquisite plot of revenge and might end in the
+      death of Cassio or Othello, or both; he cared not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The arrival of the general and his lady in Cyprus, meeting with news of
+      the dispersion of the enemy&rsquo;s fleet, made a sort of holiday in the
+      island. Everybody gave himself up to feasting and making merry. Wine
+      flowed in abundance, and cups went round to the health of the black
+      Othello and his lady the fair Desdemona.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge from
+      Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that no brawl might
+      arise to fright the inhabitants or disgust them with the new-landed
+      forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid plans of mischief. Under color
+      of loyalty and love to the general, he enticed Cassio to make rather too
+      free with the bottle (a great fault in an officer upon guard). Cassio for
+      a time resisted, but he could not long hold out against the honest freedom
+      which Iago knew how to put on, but kept swallowing glass after glass (as
+      Iago still plied him with drink and encouraging songs), and Cassio&rsquo;s
+      tongue ran over in praise of the Lady Desdemona, whom he again and again
+      toasted, affirming that she was a most exquisite lady. Until at last the
+      enemy which he put into his mouth stole away his brains; and upon some
+      provocation given him by a fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn,
+      and Montano, a worthy officer, who interfered to appease the dispute, was
+      wounded in the scuffle. The riot now began to be general, and Iago, who
+      had set on foot the mischief, was foremost in spreading the alarm, causing
+      the castle bell to be rung (as if some dangerous mutiny instead of a
+      slight drunken quarrel had arisen). The alarm-bell ringing awakened
+      Othello, who, dressing in a hurry and coming to the scene of action,
+      questioned Cassio of the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the wine having a little
+      gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and Iago, pretending a great
+      reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were, forced into it by Othello,
+      who insisted to know the truth, gave an account of the whole matter
+      (leaving out his own share in it, which Cassio was too far gone to
+      remember) in such a manner as, while he seemed to make Cassio&rsquo;s
+      offense less, did indeed make it appear greater than it was. The result
+      was that Othello, who was a strict observer of discipline, was compelled
+      to take away Cassio&rsquo;s place of lieutenant from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus did Iago&rsquo;s first artifice succeed completely; he had now
+      undermined his hated rival and thrust him,out of his place; but a further
+      use was hereafter to be made of the adventure of this disastrous night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio, whom this misfortune had entirely sobered, now lamented to his
+      seeming friend Iago that he should have been such a fool as to transform
+      himself into a beast. He was undone, for how could he ask the general for
+      his place again? He would tell him he was a drunkard. He despised himself.
+      Iago, affecting to make light of it, said that he, or any man living,
+      might be drunk upon occasion; it remained now to make the best of a bad
+      bargain. The general&rsquo;s wife was now the general, and could do
+      anything with Othello; that he were best to apply to the Lady Desdemona to
+      mediate for him with her lord; that she was of a frank, obliging
+      disposition and would readily undertake a good office of this sort and set
+      Cassio right again in the general&rsquo;s favor; and then this crack in
+      their love would be made stronger than ever. A good advice of Iago, if it
+      had not been given for wicked purposes, which will after appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cassio did as Iago advised him, and made application to the Lady
+      Desdemona, who was easy to be won over in any honest suit; and she
+      promised Cassio that she should be his solicitor with her lord, and rather
+      die than give up his cause. This she immediately set about in so earnest
+      and pretty a manner that Othello, who was mortally offended with Cassio,
+      could not put her off. When he pleaded delay, and that it was too soon to
+      pardon such an offender, she would not be beat back, but insisted that it
+      should be the next night, or the morning after, or the next morning to
+      that at farthest. Then she showed how penitent and humbled poor Cassio
+      was, and that his offense did not deserve so sharp a check. And when
+      Othello still hung back:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! my lord,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;that I should have so much
+      to do to plead for Cassio, Michael Cassio, that came a-courting for you,
+      and oftentimes, when I have spoken in dispraise of you has taken your
+      part! I count this but a little thing to ask of you. When I mean to try
+      your love indeed I shall ask a weighty matter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello could deny nothing to such a pleader, and only requesting that
+      Desdemona would leave the time to him, promised to receive Michael Cassio
+      again in favor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened that Othello and Iago had entered into the room where
+      Desdemona was, just as Cassio, who had been imploring her intercession,
+      was departing at the opposite door; and Iago, who was full of art, said in
+      a low voice, as if to himself, &ldquo;I like not that.&rdquo; Othello took
+      no great notice of what he said; indeed, the conference which immediately
+      took place with his lady put it out of his head; but he remembered it
+      afterward. For when Desdemona was gone, Iago, as if for mere satisfaction
+      of his thought, questioned Othello whether Michael Cassio, when Othello
+      was courting his lady, knew of his love. To this the general answering in
+      the affirmative, and adding, that he had gone between them very often
+      during the courtship, Iago knitted his brow, as if he had got fresh light
+      on some terrible matter, and cried, &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; This brought
+      into Othello&rsquo;s mind the words which Iago had let fall upon entering
+      the room and seeing Cassio with Desdemona; and he began to think there was
+      some meaning in all this, for he deemed Iago to be a just man, and full of
+      love and honesty, and what in a false knave would be tricks in him seemed
+      to be the natural workings of an honest mind, big with something too great
+      for utterance. And Othello prayed Iago to speak what he knew and to give
+      his worst thoughts words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what,&rdquo; said Iago, &ldquo;if some thoughts very vile
+      should have intruded into my breast, as where is the palace into which
+      foul things do not enter?&rdquo; Then Iago went on to say, what a pity it
+      were if any trouble should arise to Othello out of his imperfect
+      observations; that it would not be for Othello&rsquo;s peace to know his
+      thoughts; that people&rsquo;s good names were not to be taken away for
+      slight suspicions; and when Othello&rsquo;s curiosity was raised almost to
+      distraction with these hints and scattered words, Iago, as if in earnest
+      care for Othello&rsquo;s peace of mind, besought him to beware of
+      jealousy. With such art did this villain raise suspicions in the unguarded
+      Othello, by the very caution which he pretended to give him against
+      suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;that my wife is fair, loves
+      company and feasting, is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
+      but where virtue is, these qualities are virtuous. I must have proof
+      before I think her dishonest.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Iago, as if glad that Othello was slow to believe ill of his lady,
+      frankly declared that he had no proof, but begged Othello to see her
+      behavior well, when Cassio was by; not to be jealous nor too secure
+      neither, for that he (Iago) knew the dispositions of the Italian ladies,
+      his country-women, better than Othello could do; and that in Venice the
+      wives let Heaven see many pranks they dared not show their husbands. Then
+      he artfully insinuated that Desdemona deceived her father in marrying with
+      Othello, and carried it so closely that the poor old man thought that
+      witchcraft had been used. Othello was much moved with this argument, which
+      brought the matter home to him, for if she had deceived her father why
+      might she not deceive her husband?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Iago begged pardon for having moved him; but Othello, assuming an
+      indifference, while he was really shaken with inward grief at Iago&rsquo;s
+      words, begged him to go on, which Iago did with many apologies, as if
+      unwilling to produce anything against Cassio, whom he called his friend.
+      He then came strongly to the point and reminded Othello how Desdemona had
+      refused many suitable matches of her own clime and complexion, and had
+      married him, a Moor, which showed unnatural in her and proved her to have
+      a headstrong will; and when her better judgment returned, how probable it
+      was she should fall upon comparing Othello with the fine forms and clear
+      white complexions of the young Italians her countrymen. He concluded with
+      advising Othello to put off his reconcilement with Cassio a little longer,
+      and in the mean while to note with what earnestness Desdemona should
+      intercede in his behalf; for that much would be seen in that. So
+      mischievously did this artful villain lay his plots to turn the gentle
+      qualities of this innocent lady into her destruction, and make a net for
+      her out of her own goodness to entrap her, first setting Cassio on to
+      entreat her mediation, and then out of that very mediation contriving
+      stratagems for her ruin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The conference ended with Iago&rsquo;s begging Othello to account his wife
+      innocent until he had more decisive proof; and Othello promised to be
+      patient; but from that moment the deceived Othello never tasted content of
+      mind. Poppy, nor the juice of mandragora, nor all the sleeping potions in
+      the world, could ever again restore to him that sweet rest which he had
+      enjoyed but yesterday. His occupation sickened upon him. He no longer took
+      delight in arms. His heart, that used to be roused at the sight of troops
+      and banners and battle array, and would stir and leap at the sound of a
+      drum or a trumpet or a neighing war-horse, seemed to have lost all that
+      pride and ambition which are a soldier&rsquo;s virtue; and his military
+      ardor and all his old joys forsook him. Sometimes he thought his wife
+      honest, and at times he thought her not so; sometimes he thought Iago
+      just, and at times he thought him not so; then he would wish that he had
+      never known of it; he was not the worse for her loving Cassio, so long as
+      he knew it not. Torn to pieces with these distracting thoughts, he once
+      laid hold on Iago&rsquo;s throat and demanded proof of Desdemona&rsquo;s
+      guilt, or threatened instant death for his having belied her. Iago,
+      feigning indignation that his honesty should be taken for a vice, asked
+      Othello if he had not sometimes seen a handkerchief spotted with
+      strawberries in his wife&rsquo;s hand. Othello answered that he had given
+      her such a one, and that it was his first gift.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That same handkerchief,&rdquo; said Iago, &ldquo;did I see Michael
+      Cassio this day wipe his face with.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it be as you say,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;I will not rest
+      till a wide revenge swallow them up; and first, for a token of your
+      fidelity, I expect that Cassio shall be put to death within three days;
+      and for that fair devil [meaning his lady] I will withdraw and devise some
+      swift means of death for her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trifles light as air are to the jealous proofs as strong as holy writ. A
+      handkerchief of his wife&rsquo;s seen in Cassio&rsquo;s hand was motive
+      enough to the deluded Othello to pass sentence of death upon them both,
+      without once inquiring how Cassio came by it. Desdemona had never given
+      such a present to Cassio, nor would this constant lady have wronged her
+      lord with doing so naughty a thing as giving his presents to another man;
+      both Cassio and, Desdemona were innocent of any offense against Othello;
+      but the wicked Iago, whose spirits never slept in contrivance of villainy,
+      had made his wife (a good, but a weak woman) steal this handkerchief from
+      Desdemona, under pretense of getting the work copied, but in reality to
+      drop it in Cassio&rsquo;s way, where he might find it, and give a handle
+      to Iago&rsquo;s suggestion that it was Desdemona&rsquo;s present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Othello, soon after meeting his wife, pretended that he had a headache (as
+      he might indeed with truth), and desired her to lend him her handkerchief
+      to hold to his temples. She did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not this,&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;but that handkerchief I gave
+      you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona had it not about her (for indeed it was stolen, as we have
+      related).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo; said Othello, &ldquo;this is a fault indeed. That
+      handkerchief an Egyptian woman gave to my mother; the woman was a witch
+      and could read people&rsquo;s thoughts. She told my mother while she kept
+      it it would make her amiable and my father would love her; but if she lost
+      it or gave it away, my father&rsquo;s fancy would turn and he would loathe
+      her as much as he had loved her. She, dying, gave it to me, and bade me,
+      if I ever married, to give it to my wife. I did so. Take heed of it. Make
+      it a darling as precious as your eye.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible?&rdquo; said the frighted lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis true,&rdquo; continued Othello; &ldquo;it is a magical
+      handkerchief; a sibyl that had lived in the world two hundred years, in a
+      fit of prophetic fury worked it; the silkworms that furnished the silk
+      were hallowed, and it was dyed in a mummy of maidens&rsquo; hearts
+      conserved.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona, hearing the wondrous virtues of the handkerchief, was ready to
+      die with fear, for she plainly perceived she had lost it, and with it, she
+      feared, the affections of her husband. Then Othello started and looked as
+      if he were going to do some rash thing, and still he demanded the
+      handkerchief, which when she could not produce, she tried to divert her
+      husband from too serious thoughts, and cheerfully told him she saw all his
+      talk about the handkerchief was only to put her off from her suit about
+      Michael Cassio, whom she went on to praise (as Iago had foretold), till
+      Othello in perfect distraction burst out of the room, and then Desdemona,
+      though unwillingly, began to suspect that her lord was jealous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What cause she could have ministered to him she knew not, and then she
+      accused herself for accusing the noble Othello, and thought, to be sure,
+      that some untoward news from Venice or some state troubles had puddled his
+      spirits and made his temper not so sweet as formerly. And she said,
+      &ldquo;Men are not gods, and we must not look for that observance from
+      them when they are married which they show us on the bridal day.&rdquo;
+      And she beshrewed herself for so unkindly judging of his unkindness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Othello and Desdemona met, and he accused her more plainly of being
+      unfaithful and of loving another man, but he did not name whom. And
+      Othello wept, and Desdemona said, &ldquo;Alas! the heavy day! why do you
+      weep?&rdquo; And Othello told her he could have borne all sorts of evils
+      with fortitude&mdash;poverty, and disease, and disgrace&mdash;but her
+      infidelity had broken his heart. And he called her a weed that looked so
+      fair and smelled so sweet that the sense ached at it; and wished she had
+      never been born. And when he had left her this innocent lady was so
+      stupefied with wonder at her lord&rsquo;s untrue suspicion of her that a
+      weightlike sleep came over her, and she only desired her attendant to make
+      her bed and to lay her wedding-sheets upon it, saying that when people
+      teach their babes they do it by gentle means and easy tasks, and Othello
+      might have chid her so; for in good faith she was but a child when she was
+      chidden. And this was all the complaint which this gentle lady made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona being retired to bed, expecting her lord would follow her, soon
+      fell into a slumber, the effect of her troubled spirits, when Othello
+      entered the chamber, full of the black purpose which he had meditated, of
+      putting his lady to death. But when he saw her asleep he thought he would
+      not shed her blood, nor scar that white skin of hers, more white than
+      alabaster. But he was resolved she should die, else (as he said) she would
+      live to betray, more men as she had done him. Then he kissed her for the
+      last time (as he said), and that kiss was so sweet that he must needs kiss
+      her again; and he wept, but he said they were cruel tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Desdemona was awakened with his kisses, and she looked upon Othello, and
+      she saw him gnaw his under lip and roll his eyes, and she knew he was
+      always fatal when he looked so; and he bade her prepare for death and to
+      say her prayers, for he would not kill her soul. And this innocent wife,
+      as she lay at his mercy, begged for compassion and to know her fault, and
+      then he named Cassio, and the handkerchief which (he said) she had given
+      him; and as the guiltless lady was proceeding to clear herself he suddenly
+      would hear no more, but, covering her up in the bedclothes, stifled her
+      till she died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this instant of time was brought into the house Cassio, wounded and
+      bleeding, whom Iago had set one of his creatures on to assassinate; but
+      the fellow not succeeding in his attempt to kill Cassio (whom he wounded,
+      but not mortally), and being him- self killed by Iago to prevent
+      discovery, in his pockets were found certain letters, which made the guilt
+      of Iago, and the innocence of Cassio, clear beyond all doubt; and Cassio
+      now came to beg pardon of Othello, and to ask wherein he had offended him,
+      that he had employed Iago to murder him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This discovery was as a thunderstroke to Othello, who now plainly saw that
+      he was no better than a murderer, and that his wife (poor innocent lady)
+      had been ever faithful to him; the extreme anguish of which discovery
+      making life insupportable, he fell upon his sword, and throwing himself
+      upon the body of his dear injured lady, expired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These rash acts raised much passion of horror and amazement in the
+      bystanders, for Othello had borne a fair reputation, and till he was
+      wrought upon by the arts of a villain, which his own noble nature never
+      gave him leave to suspect, he was a loving and a doting husband. He had
+      loved not wisely, but too well; and his manly eyes (when be learned his
+      mistake), though not used to weep on every small occasion, dropped tears
+      as fast as the Arabian trees their gum. And when he was dead all his
+      former merits and his valiant acts were remembered. Nothing now remained
+      for his successor but to put the utmost censure of the law in force
+      against Iago, who was executed with strict tortures; and to send word to
+      the state of Venice of the lamentable death of their renowned general.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap20"></a>PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE</h2>
+    <p>
+      Pericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his dominions, to
+      avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the wicked emperor of
+      Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects and city of Tyre, in revenge
+      for a discovery which the prince had made of a shocking deed which the
+      emperor had done in secret; as commonly it proves dangerous to pry into
+      the hidden crimes of great ones. Leaving the government of his people in
+      the hands of his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail
+      from Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who was
+      mighty, should be appeased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first place which the prince directed his course to was Tarsus, and
+      hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time suffering under a severe
+      famine, he took with him a store of provisions for its relief. On his
+      arrival he found the city reduced to the utmost distress; and, he coming
+      like a messenger from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the
+      governor of Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks. Pericles had not
+      been here many days before letters came from his faithful minister,
+      warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for Antiochus
+      knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched for that purpose
+      sought his life. Upon receipt of these letters Pericles put out to sea
+      again, amid the blessings and prayers of a whole people who had been fed
+      by his bounty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful storm, and
+      every man on board perished except Pericles, who was cast by the sea waves
+      naked on an unknown shore, where he had not wandered long before he met
+      with some poor fishermen, who invited him to their homes, giving him
+      clothes and provisions. The fishermen told Pericles the name of their
+      country was Pentapolis, and that their king was Simonides, commonly called
+      the good Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.
+      From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young daughter,
+      and that the following day was her birthday, when a grand tournament was
+      to be held at court, many princes and knights being come from all parts to
+      try their skill in arms for the love of Thaisa, this fair princess. While
+      the prince was listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss
+      of his good armor, which disabled him from making one among these valiant
+      knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of armor that he had
+      taken out of the sea with his fishing-net, which proved to be the very
+      armor he had lost. When Pericles beheld his own armor he said: &ldquo;Thanks,
+      Fortune; after all my crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This
+      armor was bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have
+      so loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me, and the
+      rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm, hath given it
+      back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have my father&rsquo;s gift
+      again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father&rsquo;s armor, repaired to
+      the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at the
+      tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and valiant
+      princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of Thaisa&rsquo;s
+      love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments for the love of
+      kings&rsquo; daughters, if one proved sole victor over all the rest, it
+      was usual for the great lady for whose sake these deeds of valor were
+      undertaken to bestow all her respect upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did
+      not depart from this custom, for she presently dismissed all the princes
+      and knights whom Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her
+      especial favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as
+      king of that day&rsquo;s happiness; and Pericles became a most passionate
+      lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment he beheld her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble qualities of
+      Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished gentleman and well learned in
+      all excellent arts, that though he knew not the rank of this royal
+      stranger (for Pericles for fear of Antiochus gave out that he was a
+      private gentleman of Tyre), yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the
+      valiant unknown for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter&rsquo;s
+      affections were firmly fixed upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he received
+      intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that his subjects of
+      Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened to revolt and talked of
+      placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne. This news came from Helicanus
+      himself, who, being a loyal subject to his royal master, would not accept
+      of the high dignity offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their
+      intentions, that he might return home and resume his lawful right. It was
+      matter of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his son-in-law
+      (the obscure knight) was the renowned Prince of Tyre; yet again he
+      regretted that he was not the private gentleman he supposed him to be,
+      seeing that he must now part both with his admired son-in-law and his
+      beloved daughter, whom he feared to trust to the perils of the sea,
+      because Thaisa was with child; and Pericles himself wished her to remain
+      with her father till after her confinement; but the poor lady so earnestly
+      desired to go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she
+      would reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long before they
+      reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so terrified Thaisa
+      that she was taken ill, and in a short space of time her nurse, Lychorida,
+      came to Pericles with a little child in her arms, to tell the prince the
+      sad tidings that his wife died the moment her little babe was born. She
+      held the babe toward its father, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of
+      your dead queen.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he heard his
+      wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then
+      snatch those gifts away?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience, good sir,&rdquo; said Lychorida, &ldquo;here is all that
+      is left alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child&rsquo;s
+      sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this precious
+      charge.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the little
+      babe: &ldquo;Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous birth had
+      never babe! May your condition be mild and gentle, for you have had the
+      rudest welcome that ever prince&rsquo;s child did meet with! May that
+      which follows be happy, for you have had as chiding a nativity as fire,
+      air, water, earth, and heaven could make to herald you from the womb! Even
+      at the first, your loss,&rdquo; meaning in the death of her mother,
+      &ldquo;is more than all the joys, which you shall find upon this earth to
+      which you are come a new visitor, shall be able to recompense.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors having a
+      superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship the storm would
+      never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that his queen should be
+      thrown overboard; and they said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What courage, sir? God save you!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Courage enough,&rdquo; said the sorrowing prince. &ldquo;I do not
+      fear the storm; it has done to me its worst; yet for the love of this poor
+      infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the sailors, &ldquo;your queen must overboard. The
+      sea works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till the
+      ship be cleared of the dead.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition was, yet he
+      patiently submitted, saying: &ldquo;As you think meet. Then she must
+      overboard, most wretched queen!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear wife, and
+      as he looked on his Thaisa he said: &ldquo;A terrible childbed hast thou
+      had, my dear; no light, no fire; the unfriendly elements forget thee
+      utterly, nor have I time to bring thee hallowed to thy grave, but must
+      cast thee scarcely coffined into the sea, where for a monument upon thy
+      bones the humming waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple
+      shells. O Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket
+      and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin. Lay the babe
+      upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida, while I say a
+      priestly farewell to my Thaisa.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They brought Pericles a large chest, in which (wrapped in a satin shroud)
+      he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed over her, and
+      beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written paper telling who she was
+      and praying if haply any one should find the chest which contained the
+      body of his wife they would give her burial; and then with his own hands
+      he cast the chest into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered
+      the sailors to make for Tarsus. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;the
+      babe cannot hold out till we come to Tyre. At Tarsus I will leave it at
+      careful nursing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea, and
+      while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy gentleman of Ephesus
+      and a most skilful physician, was standing by the seaside, his servants
+      brought to him a chest, which they said the sea waves had thrown on the
+      land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw,&rdquo; said one of them, &ldquo;so huge a billow as
+      cast it on our shore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and when it was
+      opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and lovely lady; and the
+      sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of jewels made him conclude it was
+      some great person who was thus strangely entombed. Searching farther, he
+      discovered a paper, from which he learned that the corpse which lay as
+      dead before him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre;
+      and much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more pitying
+      the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said: &ldquo;If you are
+      living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks with woe.&rdquo; Then,
+      observing attentively Thaisa&rsquo;s face, he saw how fresh and unlike
+      death her looks were, and he said, &ldquo;They were too hasty that threw
+      you into the sea&rdquo;; for he did not believe her to be dead. He ordered
+      a fire to be made, and proper cordials to be brought, and soft music to be
+      played, which might help to calm her amazed spirits if she should revive;
+      and he said to those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw,
+      &ldquo;O, I pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she
+      has not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow into
+      life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this fair creature
+      will live to make us weep to hear her fate.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had fallen
+      into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her to be dead; and
+      now by the care of this kind gentleman she once more revived to light and
+      life; and, opening her eyes, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen her; and
+      when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the sight he showed her
+      the paper written by her husband, and the jewels; and she looked on the
+      paper and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my lord&rsquo;s writing. That I was shipped at sea I well
+      remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy gods I
+      cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never shall see again, I
+      will put on a vestal livery and never more have joy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; said Cerimon, &ldquo;if you purpose as you speak, the
+      temple of Diana is not far distant from hence; there you may abide as a
+      vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there attend you.&rdquo;
+      This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa; and when she was
+      perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the temple of Diana, where she
+      became a vestal or priestess of that goddess, and passed her days in
+      sorrowing for her husband&rsquo;s supposed loss, and in the most devout
+      exercises of those times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina, because she was
+      born at sea) to Tarsus, intending to leave her with Cleon, the governor of
+      that city, and his wife Dionysia, thinking, for the good he had done to
+      them at the time of their famine, they would be kind to his little
+      motherless daughter. When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great
+      loss which had befallen him he said, &ldquo;Oh, your sweet queen, that it
+      had pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed my
+      eyes with the sight of her!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles replied: &ldquo;We must obey the powers above us. Should I rage
+      and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end must be as it
+      is. My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your charity with her. I
+      leave her the infant of your care, beseeching you to give her princely
+      training.&rdquo; And then turning to Cleon&rsquo;s wife, Dionysia, he
+      said, &ldquo;Good madam, make me blessed in your tare in bringing up my
+      child.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she answered, &ldquo;I have a child myself who shall not be more dear
+      to my respect than yours, my lord.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cleon made the like promise, saying: &ldquo;Your noble services,
+      Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn (for which in
+      their prayers they daily remember you) must in your child be thought on.
+      If I should neglect your child, my whole people that were by you relieved
+      would force me to my duty; but if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge
+      it on me and mine to the end of generation.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully attended
+      to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife Dionysia, and with
+      her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went away the little Marina knew
+      not her loss, but Lychorida wept sadly at parting with her royal master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no tears, Lychorida,&rdquo; said Pericles; &ldquo;no tears;
+      look to your little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in the quiet
+      possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom he thought dead,
+      remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina, whom this hapless mother had
+      never seen, was brought up by Cleon in a manner suitable to her high
+      birth. He gave her the most careful education, so that by the time Marina
+      attained the age of fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not
+      more studied in the learning of those times than was Marina. She sang like
+      one immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was so
+      skilful that she seemed to compose nature&rsquo;s own shapes in birds,
+      fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more like to each
+      other than they were to Marina&rsquo;s silken flowers. But when she had
+      gained from education all these graces which made her the general wonder,
+      Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her mortal enemy from jealousy, by
+      reason that her own daughter, from the slowness of her mind, was not able
+      to attain to that perfection wherein Marina excelled; and finding that all
+      praise was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same age
+      and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though not with the
+      same success, was in comparison disregarded, she formed a project to
+      remove Marina out of the way, vainly imagining that her untoward daughter
+      would be more respected when Marina was no more seen. To encompass this
+      she employed a man to murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design,
+      when Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died. Dionysia was
+      discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder when the
+      young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida. Leonine, the man she
+      employed to do this bad deed, though he was a very wicked man, could
+      hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so had Marina won all hearts to love
+      her. He said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a goodly creature!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fitter then the gods should have her,&rdquo; replied her
+      merciless enemy. &ldquo;Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse
+      Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied, &ldquo;I am resolved.&rdquo; And
+      so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed to an
+      untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of flowers in her hand,
+      which she said she would daily strew over the grave of good Lychorida. The
+      purple violet and the marigold should as a carpet hang upon her grave,
+      while summer days did last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas for met&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;poor unhappy maid, born in a
+      tempest, when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+      hurrying me from my friends.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now, Marina,&rdquo; said the dissembling Dionysia, &ldquo;do
+      you weep alone? How does it chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+      sorrow for Lychorida; you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is quite changed
+      with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your flowers&mdash;the sea air
+      will spoil them&mdash;and walk with Leonine; the air is fine, and will
+      enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm and walk with her.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, madam,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;I pray you let me not deprive
+      you of your servant&rdquo;; for Leonine was one of Dionysia&rsquo;s
+      attendants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo; said this artful woman, who wished for a
+      pretense to leave her alone with Leonine, &ldquo;I love the prince, your
+      father, and I love you. We every day expect your father here; and when he
+      comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of beauty we
+      reported you, he will think we have taken no care of you. Go, I pray you,
+      walk, and be cheerful once again. Be careful of that excellent complexion
+      which stole the hearts of old and young.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marina, being thus importuned, said, &ldquo;Well, I will go, but yet I
+      have no desire to it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine, &ldquo;Remember what I have
+      said!&rdquo; shocking words, for their meaning was that he should remember
+      to kill Marina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said, &ldquo;Is the wind
+      westerly that blows?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Southwest,&rdquo; replied Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was born the wind was north,&rdquo; said she; and then the
+      storm and tempest and all her father&rsquo;s sorrows, and her mother&rsquo;s
+      death, came full into her mind, and she said, &ldquo;My father, as
+      Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD SEAMEN, to the
+      sailors, galling his princely hands with the ropes, and, clasping to the
+      masts, he endured a sea that almost split the deck.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was this?&rdquo; said Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was born,&rdquo; replied Marina. &ldquo;Never were wind and
+      waves more violent.&rdquo; And then she described the storm, the action of
+      the sailors, the boatswain&rsquo;s whistle, and the loud call of the
+      master, which,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;trebled the confusion of the ship.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her hapless birth
+      that these things seemed ever present to her imagination. But here Leonine
+      interrupted her with desiring her to say her prayers. &ldquo;What mean
+      you?&rdquo; said Marina, who began to fear, she knew not why.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it,&rdquo; said
+      Leonine; &ldquo;but be not tedious; the gods are quick of ear and I am
+      sworn to do my work in haste.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you kill me?&rdquo; said Marina. &ldquo;Alas! why?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To satisfy my lady,&rdquo; replied Leonine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why would she have me killed?&rdquo; said Marina. &ldquo;Now, as I
+      can remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word nor
+      did any ill turn to any living creature. Believe me now, I never killed a
+      mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod upon a worm once against my will, but I wept
+      for it. How have I offended?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The murderer replied, &ldquo;My commission is not to reason on the deed,
+      but to do it.&rdquo; And he was just going to kill her when certain
+      pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing Marina, bore her
+      off as a prize to their ship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene and sold
+      her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition, Marina soon
+      became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene for her beauty and her
+      virtues, and the person to whom she was sold became rich by the money she
+      earned for him. She taught music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the
+      money she got by her scholars she gave to her master and mistress; and the
+      fame of her learning and her great industry came to the knowledge of
+      Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and Lysimachus
+      went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see this paragon of
+      excellence whom all the city praised so highly. Her conversation delighted
+      Lysimachus beyond measure, for, though he had heard much of this admired
+      maiden, he did not expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and
+      so good, as he perceived Marina to be; and he left her, saying he hoped
+      she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and that if
+      ever she heard from him again it should be for her good. Lysimachus
+      thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine breeding, and excellent
+      qualities, as well as for beauty and all outward graces, that he wished to
+      marry her, and, notwithstanding her humble situation, he hoped to find
+      that her birth was noble; but whenever when they asked her parentage she
+      would sit still and weep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told her he
+      had killed Marina; and that wicked woman gave out that she was dead, and
+      made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a stately monument; and
+      shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his loyal minister Helicanus, made
+      a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on purpose to see his daughter, intending to
+      take her home with him. And he never having beheld her since he left her
+      an infant in the care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince
+      rejoice at the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen! But
+      when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they had
+      erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched father endured,
+      and, not being able to bear the sight of that country where his last hope
+      and only memory of his dear Thaisa was entombed, he took ship and hastily
+      departed from Tarsus. From the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy
+      melancholy seized him. He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to
+      everything around him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by Mitylene,
+      where Marina dwelt; the governor of which place, Lysimachus, observing
+      this royal vessel from the shore, and desirous of knowing who was on
+      board, went in a barge to the side of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity.
+      Helicanus received him very courteously and told him that the ship came
+      from Tyre, and that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince.
+      &ldquo;A man sir,&rdquo; said Helicanus, &ldquo;who has not spoken to any
+      one these three months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his
+      grief; it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper,
+      but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he beheld
+      Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he said to him:
+      &ldquo;Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you! Hail, royal sir!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor did he
+      appear to perceive any stranger approached. And then Lysimachus bethought
+      him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply with her sweet tongue she
+      might win some answer from the silent prince; and with the consent of
+      Helicanus he sent for Marina, and when she entered the ship in which her
+      own father sat motionless with grief, they welcomed her on board as if
+      they had known she was their princess; and they cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a gallant lady.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble
+      birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed in a
+      wife.&rdquo; And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the lowly
+      seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find her, calling
+      her FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL MARINA, telling her a great prince on board that
+      ship had fallen into a sad and mournful silence; and, as if Marina had the
+      power of conferring health and felicity, he begged she would undertake to
+      cure the royal stranger of his melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;I will use my utmost skill in his
+      recovery, provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth, ashamed to tell
+      that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first began to speak to
+      Pericles of the wayward changes in her own fate, telling him from what a
+      high estate herself had fallen. As if she had known it was her royal
+      father she stood before, all the words she spoke were of her own sorrows;
+      but her reason for so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the
+      attention of the unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to
+      match their own. The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince;
+      he lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless; and
+      Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to his amazed
+      sight the features of his dead queen. The long silent prince was once more
+      heard to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dearest wife,&rdquo; said the awakened Pericles, &ldquo;was like
+      this maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen&rsquo;s
+      square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as
+      silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like. Where do you live, young maid?
+      Report your parentage. I think you said you had been tossed from wrong to
+      injury, and that you thought your griefs would equal mine, if both were
+      opened.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some such thing I said,&rdquo; replied Marina, &ldquo;and said no
+      more than what my thoughts did warrant me as likely.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me your story,&rdquo; answered Pericles. &ldquo;If I find you
+      have known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your sorrows
+      like a man and I have suffered like a girl; yet you do look like Patience
+      gazing on kings&rsquo; graves and smiling extremely out of act. How lost
+      you your name, my most kind virgin? Recount your story, I beseech you.
+      Come, sit by me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for he knew
+      it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself for his own child
+      to signify SEA-BORN.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am mocked,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and you are sent hither by
+      some incensed god to make the world laugh at me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience, good sir,&rdquo; said Marina, &ldquo;or I must cease
+      here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Na@,&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;I will be patient. You little
+      know how you do startle me, to call yourself Marina.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The name,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;was given me by one that had
+      some power, my father and a king.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, a king&rsquo;s daughter!&rdquo; said Pericles, &ldquo;and
+      called Marina! But are you flesh and blood? Are you no fairy? Speak on.
+      Where were you born, and wherefore called Marina?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She replied: &ldquo;I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My
+      mother was the daughter of a king; she died the minute I was born, as my
+      good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping. The king, my father, left
+      me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon sought to murder me. A crew of
+      pirates came and rescued me and brought me here to Mitylene. But, good
+      sir, why do you weep? It may be you think me an impostor. But indeed, sir,
+      I am the daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and doubtful
+      if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants, who rejoiced at
+      the sound of their beloved king&rsquo;s voice; and he said to Helicanus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain,
+      lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores of my
+      mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,
+      and found at sea again. O Helicanus, down on your knees, thank the holy
+      gods! This is Marina. Now blessings on thee, my child! Give me fresh
+      garments, mine own Helicanus! She is not dead at Tarsus as she should have
+      been by the savage Dionysia. She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel
+      to her and call her your very Princess. Who is this?&rdquo; (observing
+      Lysimachus for the first time).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Helicanus, &ldquo;it is the governor of Mitylene,
+      who, hearing of your melancholy, came to see you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I embrace you, sir,&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;Give me my robes!
+      I am well with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl! But hark, what music is
+      that?&rdquo;&mdash;for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own
+      delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, I hear none,&rdquo; replied Helicanus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None?&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;Why, it is the music of the
+      spheres.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the sudden
+      joy had unsettled the prince&rsquo;s understanding, and he said, &ldquo;It
+      is not good to cross him; let him have his way.&rdquo; And then they told
+      him they heard the music; and he now complaining of a drowsy slumber
+      coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest on a couch, and, placing
+      a pillow under his head, he, quite overpowered with excess of joy, sank
+      into a sound sleep, and Marina watched in silence by the couch of her
+      sleeping parent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve to go to
+      Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the Ephesians, appeared
+      to him and commanded him to go to her temple at Ephesus, and there before
+      her altar to declare the story of his life and misfortunes; and by her
+      silver bow she swore that if he performed her injunction he should meet
+      with some rare felicity. When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he
+      told his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the
+      goddess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh himself with
+      such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene, which courteous offer
+      Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with him for the space of a day or
+      two. During which time we may well suppose what feastings, what
+      rejoicings, what costly shows and entertainments the governor made in
+      Mitylene to greet the royal father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure
+      fortunes he had so respected. Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus&rsquo;s
+      suit, when he understood how he had honored his child in the days of her
+      low estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his proposals;
+      only he made it a condition, before he gave his consent, that they should
+      visit with him the shrine of the Ephesian Diana; to whose temple they
+      shortly after all three undertook a voyage; and, the goddess herself
+      filling their sails with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived
+      in safety at Ephesus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles with his
+      train entered the temple, the good Cerimon (now grown very aged), who had
+      restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to life; and Thaisa, now a
+      priestess of the temple, was standing before the altar; and though the
+      many years he had passed in sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles,
+      Thaisa thought she knew her husband&rsquo;s features, and when he
+      approached the altar and began to speak, she remembered his voice, and
+      listened to his words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were
+      the words that Pericles spoke before the altar:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hail, Diana! to perform thy just commands I here confess myself the
+      Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis wedded the
+      fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought forth a maid-child
+      called Marina. She at Tarsus was nursed with Dionysia, who at fourteen
+      years thought to kill her, but her better stars brought her to Mitylene,
+      by whose shores as I sailed her good fortunes brought this maid on board,
+      where by her most clear remembrance she made herself known to be my
+      daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised in her,
+      cried out, &ldquo;You are, you are, O royal Pericles&rdquo; and fainted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What means this woman?&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;She dies!
+      Gentlemen, help.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Cerimon, &ldquo;if you have told Diana&rsquo;s
+      altar true, this is your wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reverend gentleman, no,&rdquo; said Pericles. &ldquo;I threw her
+      overboard with these very arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this lady was
+      thrown upon the Ephesian shore; how, opening the coffin, he found therein
+      rich jewels and a paper; how, happily, he recovered her and placed her
+      here in Diana&rsquo;s temple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said: &ldquo;O my lord, are
+      you not Pericles? Like him you speak, like him you are. Did you not name a
+      tempest, a birth, and death?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He, astonished, said, &ldquo;The voice of dead Thaisa!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Thaisa am I,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;supposed dead and
+      drowned.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O true Diana!&rdquo; exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout
+      astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said Thaisa, &ldquo;I know you better. Such a ring
+      as I see on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears
+      parted from him at Pentapolis.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough, you gods!&rdquo; cried Pericles. &ldquo;Your present
+      kindness makes my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a
+      second time within these arms.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Marina said, &ldquo;My heart leaps to be gone into my mother&rsquo;s
+      bosom.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying, &ldquo;Look who
+      kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and called Marina
+      because she was yielded there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blessed and my own!&rdquo; said Thaisa. And while she hung in
+      rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer
+      oblations nightly to thee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa, solemnly
+      affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the well-deserving
+      Lysimachus in marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous example
+      of virtue assailed by calamity (through the sufferance of Heaven, to teach
+      patience and constancy to men), under the same guidance becoming finally
+      successful and triumphing over chance and change. In Helicanus we have
+      beheld a notable pattern of truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he
+      might have succeeded to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful
+      owner to his possession than to become great by another&rsquo;s wrong. In
+      the worthy Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how
+      goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon mankind
+      approaches to the nature of the gods. It only remains to be told that
+      Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end proportionable to her
+      deserts. The inhabitants of Tarsus, when her cruel attempt upon Marina was
+      known, rising in a body to revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and
+      setting fire to the palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their
+      whole household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder,
+      though but intentional and never carried into act, should be punished in a
+      way befitting its enormity.
+    </p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
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diff --git a/old/old/1286.txt b/old/old/1286.txt
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+Project Gutenberg Etext of Tales From Shakespeare, by the Lambs
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+This is version tshak10a.txt, you may want to compare it to:
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+
+TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE
+by
+CHARLES AND MARY LAMB
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+AUTHOR'S PREFACE
+THE TEMPEST
+A MIDSUMMER NIGHT's DREAM
+WINTER'S TALE
+MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+AS YOU LIKE IT
+TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+MERCHANT OF VENICE
+CYMBELINE
+KING LEAR
+MACBETH
+ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+TAMING OF THE SHREW
+COMEDY OF ERRORS
+MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+TIMON OF ATHENS
+ROMEO AND JULIET
+HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+OTHELLO
+PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader
+as an introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose
+his words are used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in;
+and in whatever has been added to give them the regular form of a
+connected story, diligent care has been taken to select such
+words as might least interrupt the effect of the beautiful
+English tongue in which he wrote: therefore, words introduced
+into our language since his time have been as far as possible
+avoided.
+
+In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the
+young readers will perceive, when they come to see the source
+from which these stories are derived, that Shakespeare's own
+words, with little alteration, recur very frequently in the
+narrative as well as in the dialogue; but in those made from the
+Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever able to turn
+his words into the narrative form: therefore it is feared that,
+in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young
+people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this
+fault, if it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to
+give as much of Shakespeare's own words as possible: and if the
+"He said" and "She said," the question and the reply, should
+sometimes seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it,
+because it was the only way in which could be given to them a few
+hints and little foretastes of the great pleasure which awaits
+them in their elder years, when they come to the rich treasures
+from which these small and valueless coins are extracted;
+pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps
+of Shakespeare's matchless image. Faint and imperfect images they
+must be called, because the beauty of his language is too
+frequently destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his
+excellent words into words far less expressive of his true sense,
+to make it read something like prose; and even in some few
+places, where his blank verse is given unaltered, as hoping from
+its simple plainness to cheat the young readers into the belief
+that they are reading prose, yet still his language being
+transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it
+must want much of its native beauty.
+
+It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very
+young children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have
+constantly kept this in mind; but the subjects of most of them
+made this a very difficult task. It was no easy matter to give
+the histories of men and women in terms familiar to the
+apprehension of a very young mind. For young ladies, too, it has
+been the intention chiefly to write; because boys being generally
+permitted the use of their fathers' libraries at a much earlier
+age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of
+Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look
+into this manly book; and, therefore, instead of recommending
+these Tales to the perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them
+so much better in the originals, their kind assistance is rather
+requested in explaining to their sisters such parts as are
+hardest for them to understand: and when they have helped them to
+get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will read to them
+(carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister's ear)
+some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in
+the very words of the scene from which it is taken; and it is
+hoped they will find that the beautiful extracts, the select
+passages, they may choose to give their sisters in this way will
+be much better relished and understood from their having some
+notion of the general story from one of these imperfect
+abridgments;--which if they be fortunately so done as to prove
+delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse
+effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little
+older, that they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length
+(such a wish will be neither peevish nor irrational). When time
+and leave of judicious friends shall put them into their hands,
+they will discover in such of them as are here abridged (not to
+mention almost as many more, which are left untouched) many
+surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their infinite
+variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a
+world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women,
+the humor of which it was feared would be lost if it were
+attempted to reduce the length of them.
+
+What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and
+much more it is the writers' wish that the true Plays of
+Shakespeare may prove to them in older years--enrichers of the
+fancy, strengtheners of virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish
+and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of all sweet and honorable
+thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity, generosity,
+humanity: for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages are
+full.
+
+
+
+THE TEMPEST
+
+There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of
+which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter
+Miranda, a very beautiful young lady. She came to this island so
+young that she had no memory of having seen any other human face
+than her father's.
+
+They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided
+into several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study;
+there he kept his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study
+at that time much affected by all learned men: and the knowledge
+of this art he found very useful to him; for being thrown by a
+strange chance upon this island, which had been enchanted by a
+witch called Sycorax, who died there a short time before his
+arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released many good
+spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large trees,
+because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These
+gentle spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero.
+Of these Ariel was the chief.
+
+The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his
+nature, except that he took rather too much pleasure in
+tormenting an ugly monster called Caliban, for be owed him a
+grudge because he was the son of his old enemy Sycorax. This
+Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a strange misshapen thing,
+far less human in form than an ape: he took him home to his cell,
+and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have been very kind
+to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from his
+mother, Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful:
+therefore he was employed like a slave, to fetch wood and do the
+most laborious offices; and Ariel had the charge of compelling
+him to these services.
+
+When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was
+invisible to all eyes but Prospero's) would come slyly and pinch
+him, and sometimes tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel,
+in the likeness of an ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly
+changing his shape, in the likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie
+tumbling in Caliban's way, who feared the hedgehog's sharp quills
+would prick his bare feet. With a variety of such-like vexatious
+tricks Ariel would often torment him, whenever Caliban neglected
+the work which Prospero commanded him to do.
+
+Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero
+could by their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea.
+By his orders they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which,
+and struggling with the wild sea-waves that every
+moment,threatened to swallow it up, he showed his daughter a fine
+large ship, which he told her was full of living beings like
+themselves. "O my dear father," said she, "if by your art you
+have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on their sad distress.
+See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls! they will
+all perish. If I had power I would sink the sea beneath the
+earth, rather than the good ship should be destroyed, with all
+the precious souls within her."
+
+"Be not amazed, daughter Miranda," said Prospero; "there. is no
+harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall
+receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my
+dear child. You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from,
+and you know no more of me, but that I am your father and live in
+this poor cave. Can you remember a time before you came to this
+cell? I think you cannot, for you were not then three years of
+age."
+
+"Certainly I can, sir," replied Miranda.
+
+"By what?" asked Prospero; "by any other house or person? Tell me
+what you can remember, my child."
+
+Miranda said: "It seems to me like the recollection of a dream.
+But had I not once four or five women who attended upon me?"
+Prospero answered: "You had, and more. How is it that this still
+lives in your mind? Do you remember how you came here?" "No,
+sir," said Miranda, "I remember nothing more."
+
+"Twelve years ago, Miranda," continued Prospero, "I was Duke of
+Milan, and you were a princess, and my only heir. had a younger
+brother, whose name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything;
+and as I was fond of retirement and deep study I commonly left
+the management of my state affairs to your uncle, my false
+brother (for so indeed he proved). 1, neglecting all worldly
+ends, buried among my books, did dedicate whole time to the
+bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio, being thus in
+possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed.
+The opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my
+subjects awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive
+me of my dukedom; this he soon effected with the aid of the King
+of Naples, a powerful prince, who was my enemy."
+
+"Wherefore," said Miranda, "did they not that hour destroy us?"
+
+"My child," answered her father, "they durst not, so dear was the
+love that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a ship,
+and when we were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a
+small boat, without either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left
+us, as he thought, to perish. But a kind lord of my court, one
+Gonzalo, who loved me, had privately placed in the boat water,
+provisions, apparel, and some books which I prize above my
+dukedom."
+
+"O my father," said Miranda, "what a trouble must I have been to
+you then!"
+
+"No, my love,"' said Prospero, "you were a little cherub that did
+preserve me.Your innocent smiles made me bear up against my
+misfortunes. Our food lasted till we landed on this desert
+island, since when my chief delight has been in teaching you,
+Miranda, and well have you profited by my instructions."
+
+"Heaven thank you, my dear father," said Miranda. "Now pray tell
+me, sir, your reason for raising this sea-storm?"
+
+"Know then," said her father, ""that by means of this storm, my
+enemies, the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast ashore
+upon this island."
+
+Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his
+magic wand, and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just
+then presented himself before his master., to give an account of
+the tempest, and how he had disposed of the ship's company, and
+though the spirits were always invisible to Miranda, Prospero did
+not choose she should hear him holding converse (as would seem to
+her) with the empty air.
+
+"Well, my brave spirit," said Prospero to Ariel, "how have you
+performed your task?"
+
+Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors
+of the mariners, and how the king's son, Ferdinand, was the first
+who leaped into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear
+son swallowed up by the waves and lost. "But he is safe," said
+Ariel, "in a corner of the isle, sitting with his arms folded,
+sadly lamenting the loss of the king, his father, whom he
+concludes drowned. Not a hair of his head is injured, and his
+princely garments, though drenched in the sea-waves, look fresher
+than before."
+
+"That's my delicate Ariel," said Prospero. "Bring him hither: my
+daughter must see this young prince. Where is the king, and my
+brother?"
+
+"I left them," answered Ariel, "searching for Ferdinand, whom
+they have little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish.
+Of the ship's crew not one is missing; though each one thinks
+himself the only one saved; and the ship, though invisible to
+them, is safe in the harbor."
+
+"Ariel," said Prospero, "thy charge is faithfully performed; but
+there is more work yet."
+
+"Is there more work?" said Ariel. "Let me remind you, master, you
+have promised me my liberty. I pray, remember, , I have done you
+worthy service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you
+without grudge or grumbling."
+
+"How now!" said Prospero. "You do not recollect what a torment I
+freed you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who
+with age and envy was almost bent double? Where was she born?
+Speak; tell me."
+
+"Sir, in Algiers," said Ariel.
+
+"Oh, was she so?" said Prospero. "I must recount what you have
+been, which I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax,
+for her witchcrafts, too terrible to enter human hearing, was
+banished from Algiers, and here left by the sailors-; and because
+you were a spirit too delicate to execute her wicked commands,
+she shut you up in a tree, where I found you howling. This
+torment, remember, I did free you from."
+
+"Pardon me, dear master," said Ariel, ashamed to seem ungrateful;
+"I will obey your commands."
+
+"Do so," said Prospero, "and I will set you free." He then gave
+orders what further he would have him do; and away went Ariel,
+first to where he had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting
+on the grass in the same melancholy posture.
+
+"Oh, my young gentleman," said Ariel, when he saw him, 'I will
+soon move you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda
+to have a sight of your pretty person. Come. sir,, follow me." He
+then began singing:
+
+  "Full fathom five thy father lies;
+      Of his bones are coral made;
+  Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+      Nothing of him that doth fade,
+  But doth suffer a sea-change
+  Into something rich and strange.
+  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
+  Hark! now I hear them--Ding-dong, bell."
+
+This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from
+the stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement
+the sound of Ariel's voice, till it led him to Prospero and
+Miranda, who were sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now
+Miranda had never seen a man before, except her own father.
+
+"Miranda," said Prospero, "tell me what you are looking at
+yonder."
+
+"Oh, father," said Miranda, in a strange surprise, "surely that
+is a spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a
+beautiful creature. Is it not a spirit?"
+
+"No, girl," answered her father; "it eats, and sleeps, and has
+senses such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship.
+He is somewhat altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome
+person. He has lost his companions, and is wandering about to
+find them."
+
+Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like
+her father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful
+young prince; and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this
+desert place, and from the strange sounds he had heard, expecting
+nothing but wonders, thought be was upon an enchanted island, and
+that Miranda was the goddess of the place, and as such he began
+to address her.
+
+She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid and
+was going to give him an account of herself, when Prospero
+interrupted her. He was well pleased to find they admired each
+other, for he plainly perceived they had (as we say) fallen in
+love at first sight: but to try Ferdinand's constancy, he
+resolved to throw some difficulties in their way: therefore,
+advancing forward, be addressed the prince with a stern air,
+telling him, he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him
+who was the lord of it. "Follow me," said be. "I will tie your
+neck and feet together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish,
+withered roots, and husks of acorns shall be your food."
+
+"No," said Ferdinand, "I will resist such entertainment till I
+see a more powerful enemy," and drew his sword; but Prospero,
+waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where he stood, so
+that he had no power to move.
+
+Miranda hung upon her father, saying: "Why are you so ungentle?
+Have pity, I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever
+saw, and to me he seems a true one."
+
+"Silence!" said the father. "One word more will make me chide
+you, girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are
+no more such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell
+you, foolish girl, most men as far excel this as he does
+Calliban." This he said to prove his daughter's constancy; and
+she replied:
+
+"My affections are most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier
+man."
+
+"Come on, young man," said Prospero to the prince; "you have no
+power to disobey -me."
+
+"I have not indeed," answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that it
+was by magic he was deprived of all power of resistance,
+
+they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the
+shape of a harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast
+vanished away. Then, to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy
+spoke to them, reminding them of their cruelty in driving
+Prospero from his dukedom, and leaving him and his infant
+daughter to perish in the sea, saying, that for this cause these
+terrors were suffered to afflict them.
+
+The King of Naples, and Antonio the false brother, repented the
+injustice they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he
+was certain their penitence was sincere, and that he, though a
+spirit, could not but pity them.
+
+"Then bring them hither, Ariel," said Prospero: "if you, who are
+but a spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a
+human being like themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them
+quickly, my dainty Ariel."
+
+Ariel soon returned with the king, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in
+their train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he
+played in the air to draw them on to his master's presence. This
+Gonzalo was the same who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly
+with books and provisions, when his wicked brother left him, as
+he thought, to perish in an open boat in the sea.
+
+Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses that they did not
+know Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old
+Gonzalo, calling him the preserver of his life; and then his
+brother and the king knew that he was the injured Prospero.
+
+Antonio, with tears and sad words of sorrow and true repentance,
+implored his brother's forgiveness, and the king expressed his
+sincere remorse for having assisted Antonio to depose his
+brother: and Prospero forgave them; and, upon their engaging to
+restore his dukedom, he said to the King of Naples, "I have a
+gift in store for you, too"; and, opening a door, showed him his
+son Ferdinand playing at chess with Miranda.
+
+Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this
+unexpected meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in
+the storm.
+
+"Oh wonder!" said Miranda, "what noble creatures these are! It
+must surely be a brave world that has such people in it."
+
+The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty
+and excellent graces of the young Miranda as his son had been.
+"Who is this maid?" said he; "she seems the goddess that has
+parted us, and brought us thus together."
+
+"No, sir," answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his father had
+fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first saw
+Miranda, "she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is
+mine; I chose her when I could not ask you, my father, for your
+consent, not thinking you were alive. She is the daughter this
+Prospero, who is the famous Duke of Milan, of whose renown I have
+heard so much, but never saw him till now: of him I have received
+a new life: he has made himself to me a second father, giving me
+this dear lady."
+
+"Then I must be her father," said the king; "but, oh, how oddly
+will it sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness."
+
+"No more of that," said Prospero: "let us not remember our
+troubles past, since they so happily have ended." And then
+Prospero embraced his brother, and again assured him of his
+forgiveness; and said that a wise overruling Providence had
+permitted that he should be driven from his poor dukedom of
+Milan, that his daughter might inherit the crown of Naples, for
+that by their meeting in this desert island it had happened that
+the king's son had loved Miranda.
+
+These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his
+brother, so filled Antonio with shame and remorse that be wept
+and was unable to speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see
+this joyful reconciliation, and prayed for blessings on the young
+couple.
+
+Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor,
+and the sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter
+would accompany them home the next morning. "In the mean time,"
+says he, "partake of such refreshments as my poor cave affords;
+and for your evening's entertainment I will relate the history of
+my life from my first landing in this desert island." He then
+called for Caliban to prepare some food, and set the cave in
+order; and the company were astonished at the uncouth form and
+savage appearance of this ugly monster, who (Prospero said) was
+the only attendant he had to wait upon him.
+
+Before Prospero left the island he dismissed Ariel from service,
+to the great joy of that lively little spirit, who, though he had
+been a faithful servant to his master, was always longing to
+enjoy his free liberty, to wander uncontrolled in the air, like a
+wild bird, under green trees, among pleasant fruits, and
+sweet-smelling flowers.
+
+"My quaint Ariel," said Prospero to the little sprite when he
+made him free, "I shall miss you; yet you shall have your
+freedom."
+
+"Thank you, my dear master," said Ariel; "but give me leave to
+attend your ship home with prosperous gales, before you bid
+farewell to the assistance of your faithful spirit; and then,
+master, when I am free, how merrily I shall live!" Here Ariel
+sang this pretty song:
+
+  "Where the bee sucks, there suck !;
+  In a cowslip's bell I lie:
+  There I crouch when owls do cry.
+  On the bat's back I do fly
+  After summer merrily.
+  Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+  Under the blossom that hangs on the bough."
+
+Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and
+wand, for he was resolved never more to make use of the magic
+art. And having thus overcome his enemies, and being reconciled
+to his brother and the King of Naples, nothing now remained to
+complete his happiness but to revisit his native land, to take
+possession of his dukedom, and to witness the happy nuptials of
+his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the king said should be
+instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to
+Naples. At which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel
+they, after a pleasant voyage, soon arrived.
+
+
+
+A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+There was a law in the city of Athens  which gave to its citizens
+the power of  compelling their daughters to marry whomsoever they
+pleased; for upon a daughter's refusing to marry the man her
+father had chosen to be her husband, the father was empowered by
+this law to cause her to be put to death; but as fathers do not
+often desire the death of their own daughters, even though they
+do happen to prove a little refractory, this law was seldom or
+never put in execution, though perhaps the young ladies of that
+city were not unfrequently threatened by their parents with the
+terrors of it.
+
+There was one instance, however, of an old man, whose name was
+Egeus, who actually did come before Theseus (at that time the
+reigning Duke of Athens), to complain that his daughter whom he
+had commanded to marry Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian
+family, refused to obey him, because she loved another young
+Athenian, named Lysander. Egeus demanded justice of Theseus, and
+desired that this cruel law might be put in force against his
+daughter.
+
+Hermia pleaded in excuse for her disobedience that Demetrius had
+formerly professed love for her dear friend Helena, and that
+Helena loved Demetrius to distraction; but this honorable reason,
+which Hermia gave for not obeying her father's command, moved not
+the stern Egeus.
+
+Theseus, though a great and merciful prince, had no power to
+alter the laws of his country; therefore he could only give
+Hermia four days to consider of it: and at the end of that time,
+if she still refused to marry Demetrius, she was to be put to
+death.
+
+When Hermia was dismissed from the presence of the duke, she went
+to her lover Lysander and told him the peril she was in, and that
+she must either give him up and marry Demetrius or lose her life
+in four days.
+
+Lysander was in great affliction at hearing these evil tidings;
+but, recollecting that be had an aunt who lived at some distance
+from Athens, and that at the place where she lived the cruel law
+could not be put in force against Hermia (this law not extending
+beyond the boundaries of the city), he proposed to Hermia that
+she should steal out of her father's house that night, and go
+with him to his aunt's house, where he would marry her. "I will
+meet you," said Lysander, "in the wood a few miles without the
+city; in that delightful wood where we have so often walked with
+Helena in the pleasant month of May."
+
+To this proposal Hermia joyfully agreed; and she told no one of
+her intended flight but her friend Helena. Helena (as maidens
+will do foolish things for love) very ungenerously resolved to go
+and tell this to Demetrius, though she could hope no benefit from
+betraying her friend's secret but the poor pleasure of following
+her faithless lover to the wood; for she well knew that Demetrius
+would go thither in pursuit of Hermia.
+
+The wood in which Lysander and Hermia proposed to meet was the
+favorite haunt of those little beings known by the name of
+"fairies."
+
+Oberon the king, and Titania the queen of the fairies, with all
+their tiny train of followers, in this wood held their midnight
+revels.
+
+Between this little king and queen of sprites there happened, at
+this time, a sad disagreement; they never met by moonlight in the
+shady walk of this pleasant wood but they were quarreling, till
+all their fairy elves would creep into acorn-cups and hide
+themselves for fear.
+
+The cause of this unhappy disagreement was Titania's refusing
+give Oberon a little changeling boy, whose mother had been
+Titania's friend; and upon her death the fairy queen stole the
+child from its nurse and brought him up in the woods.
+
+The night on which the lovers were to meet in this wood, as
+Titania was walking with some of her maids of honor, she met
+Oberon attended by his train of fairy courtiers.
+
+"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania," said the fairy king.
+
+The queen replied: "What, jealous Oberon, is it you? Fairies,
+skip hence; I have forsworn his company."
+
+"Tarry, rash fairy," said Oberon. "Am I not thy lord? Why does
+Titania cross her Oberon? Give me your little changeling boy to
+be my page."
+
+"Set your heart at rest," answered the queen; "your whole fairy
+kingdom buys not the boy of me." She then left her lord in great
+anger.
+
+"Well, go your way," said Oberon; "before the morning dawns I
+will torment you for this injury."
+
+Oberon then sent for Puck, his chief favorite and privy
+counselor.
+
+Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow) was a
+shrewd and knavish sprite, that used to play comical pranks in
+the neighboring villages; sometimes getting into the dairies and
+skimming the milk, sometimes plunging his light and airy form
+into the butter-churn, and while he was dancing his fantastic
+shape in the churn, in vain the dairymaid would labor to change
+her cream into butter. Nor had the village swains any better
+success; whenever Puck chose to play his freaks in the brewing
+copper, the ale was sure to be spoiled. When a few good neighbors
+were met to drink some comfortable ale together, Puck would jump
+into the bowl of ale in the likeness of a roasted crab, and when
+some old goody was going to drink he would bob against her lips,
+and spill the ale over her withered chin; and presently after,
+when the same old dame was gravely seating herself to tell her
+neighbors a sad and melancholy story, Puck would slip her
+three-legged stool from under her, and down toppled the poor old
+woman, and then the old gossips would hold their sides and laugh
+at her, and swear they never wasted a merrier hour.
+
+"Come hither, Puck," said Oberon to this little merry wanderer of
+the night; "fetch me the flower which maids call 'Love in,
+Idleness'; the juice of that little purple flower laid on the
+eyelids of those who sleep will make them, when they awake, dote
+on the first thing they see. Some of the juice of that flower I
+will drop on the eyelids of my Titania when she is asleep; and
+the first thing she looks upon when she opens her eyes she will
+fall in love with, even though it be a lion or a bear, a meddling
+monkey or a busy ape; and before I will take this charm from off
+her sight, which I can do with another charm I know of, I will
+make her give me that boy to be my page."
+
+Puck, who loved mischief to his heart, was highly diverted with
+this intended frolic of his master, and ran to seek the flower;
+and while Oberon was waiting the return of Puck he observed
+Demetrius and Helena enter the wood: he overheard Demetrius
+reproaching Helena for following him, and after many unkind words
+on his part, and gentle expostulations from Helena, reminding him
+of his former love and professions of true faith to her, he left
+her (as he said) to the mercy of the wild beasts, and she ran
+after him as swiftly as she could.
+
+The fairy king, who was always friendly to true lovers, felt
+great compassion for Helena; and perhaps, as Lysander said they
+used to walk by moonlight in this pleasant wood, Oberon might
+have seen Helena in those happy times when she was beloved by
+Demetrius. However that might be, when Puck returned with the
+little purple flower, Oberon said to his favorite: "Take a part
+of this flower; there has been a sweet Athenian lady here, who is
+in love with a disdainful youth; if you find him sleeping, drop
+some of the love-juice in his eyes, but contrive to do it when
+she is near him, that the first thing he sees when he awakes may
+be this despised lady. You will know the man ]by the Athenian
+garments which be wears."
+
+Puck promised to manage this matter very dexterously: and then
+Oberon went, unperceived by Titania, to her bower, where she was
+preparing to go to rest. Her fairy bower was a bank, where grew
+wild thyme, cowslips, and sweet violets, under a canopy of
+woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine. There Titania always slept
+some part of the night; her coverlet the enameled skin of a
+snake, which, though a small mantle, was wide enough to wrap a
+fairy in.
+
+He found Titania giving orders to her fairies, how they were to
+employ themselves while she slept. "Some of you," said her
+Majesty, "must kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, and some wage
+war with the bats for their leathern wings, to make my small
+elves coats; and some of you keep watch that the clamorous owl,
+that nightly boots, come not near me: but first sing me to
+sleep." Then they began to sing this song:
+
+  "You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
+    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+  Newts and blind-worms do no wrong;
+    Come not near our fairy queen:
+
+  "Philomel, with melody,
+  Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+  Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+  Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
+  Come our lovely lady nigh;
+  So, good night, with lullaby."
+
+When the fairies had sung their queen asleep with this pretty
+lullaby, they left her to perform the important services she had
+enjoined them. Oberon then softly drew near his Titania and
+dropped some of the love-juice on her eyelids, saying:
+
+  "What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+   Do it for thy true-love take."
+
+But to return to Hermia, who made her escape out of her father's
+house that night, to avoid the death she was doomed to for
+refusing to marry Demetrius. When she entered the wood, she found
+her dear Lysander waiting for her, to conduct her to his aunt's
+house; but before they had passed half through the wood Hermia
+was so much fatigued that Lysander, who was very careful of this
+dear lady, who had proved her affection for him even by hazarding
+her life for his sake, persuaded her to rest till morning on a
+bank of soft moss, and, lying down himself on the ground at some
+little distance, they soon fell fast asleep. Here they were found
+by Puck, who, seeing a handsome young man asleep, and perceiving
+that his clothes were made in the Athenian fashion, and that a
+pretty lady was sleeping near him, concluded that this must be
+the Athenian maid and her disdainful lover whom Oberon had sent
+him to seek; and he naturally enough conjectured that, as they
+were alone together, she must be the first thing he would see
+when he awoke; so, without more ado, he proceeded to pour some of
+the juice of the little purple flower into his eyes. But it so
+fell out that Helena came that way, and, instead of Hermia, was
+the first object Lysander beheld when he opened his eyes; and
+strange to relate, so powerful was the love-charm, all his love
+for Hermia vanished away and Lysander fell in love with Helena.
+
+Had he first seen Hermia when he awoke, the blunder Puck
+committed would have been of no consequence, for he could not
+love that faithful lady too well; but for poor Lysander to be
+forced by a fairy love-charm to forget his own true Hernia, and
+to run after another lady, and leave Hermia asleep quite alone in
+a wood at midnight, was a sad chance indeed.
+
+Thus this misfortune happened. Helena, as has been before
+related, endeavored to keep pace with Demetrius when he ran away
+so rudely from her; but she could not continue this unequal race
+long, men being always better runners in a long race than ladies.
+Helena soon lost sight of Demetrius; and as she was wandering
+about, dejected and forlorn, she arrived at the place where
+Lysander was sleeping. "Ah!" said she, "this is Lysander lying on
+the ground. Is he dead or asleep?" Then, gently touching him, she
+said, "Good sir, if you are alive, awake." Upon this Lysander
+opened his eyes, and, the love-charm beginning to work,
+immediately addressed her in terms of extravagant love and
+admiration, telling her she as much excelled Hermia in beauty as
+a dove does a raven, and that be would run through fire for her
+sweet sake; and many more such lover-like speeches. Helena,
+knowing Lysander was her friend Hermia's lover, and that he was
+solemnly engaged to marry her, was in the utmost rage when she
+heard herself addressed in this manner; for she thought (as well
+she might) that Lysander was making a jest of her. "Oh!" said
+she, "why was I born to be mocked and scorned by every one? Is it
+not enough, is it not enough, young man, that I can never get a
+sweet look or a kind word from Demetrius; but you, sir, must
+pretend in this disdainful manner to court me? I thought,
+Lysander, you were a lord of more true gentleness." Saying these
+words in great anger, she ran away; and Lysander followed her,
+quite forgetful of his own Hermia, who was still asleep.
+
+When Hermia awoke she was in a sad fright at finding herself
+alone. She wandered about the wood, not knowing what was become
+of Lysander, or which way to go to seek for him. In the mean time
+Demetrius, not being able to find Hermia and his rival Lysander,
+and fatigued with his fruitless search, was observed by Oberon
+fast asleep. Oberon had learned by some questions he had asked of
+Puck that he had applied the lovecharm to the wrong person's
+eyes; and now, having found the person first intended, he touched
+the eyelids of the sleeping Demetrius with the love-juice, and he
+instantly awoke; and the first thing he saw being Helena, he, as
+Lysander had done before, began to address love-speeches to her;
+and just at that moment Lysander, followed by Hermia (for through
+Puck's unlucky mistake it was now become Hermia's turn to run
+after her lover), made his appearance; and then Lysander and
+Demetrius, both speaking together, made love to Helena, they
+being each one under the influence of the same potent charm.
+
+The astonished Helena thought that Demetrius, Lysander, and her
+once dear friend Hermia were all in a plot together to make a
+jest of her.
+
+Hermia was as much surprised as Helena; she knew not why Lysander
+and Demetrius, who both before loved her, were now become the
+lovers of Helena, and to Hermia the matter seemed to be no jest.
+
+The ladies, who before bad always been the dearest of friends,
+now fell to high words together.
+
+"Unkind. Hermia," said Helena, "it is you have set Lysander on
+to vex me with mock praises; and your other lover, Demetrius, who
+used almost to spurn me with his foot, have you not bid him call
+me goddess, nymph, rare, precious, and celestial? He would not
+speak thus to me, whom he hates, if you did not set him on to
+make a jest of me. Unkind Hermia, to join with men in scorning
+your poor friend. Have you forgot our schoolday friendship? How
+often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one cushion, both singing
+one song, with our needles working the same flower, both on the
+same sampler wrought; growing up together in fashion of a double
+cherry, scarcely seeming parted!  Hermia, it is not friendly in
+you, it is not maidenly to join with men in scorning your poor
+friend."
+
+"I am amazed at your passionate words," said Hermia: "I scorn you
+not; it seems you scorn me."
+
+"Aye, do," returned Helena, "persevere, counterfeit serious
+looks, and make mouths at me when I turn my back; then wink at
+each other, and hold the sweet jest up. If you had any pity,
+grace, or manners, you would not use me thus."
+
+While Helena and Hermia were speaking these angry words to each
+other, Demetrius and Lysander left them, to fight together in the
+wood for the love of Helena.
+
+When they found the gentlemen had left them, they departed, and
+once more wandered weary in the wood in search of their lovers.
+
+As soon as they were gone the fairy king, who with little Puck
+had been listening to their quarrels, said to him, "This is your
+negligence, Puck; or did you do this wilfully?"
+
+"Believe me, king of shadows," answered Puck, "it was a mistake.
+Did not you tell me I should know the man by his Athenian
+garments? However, I am not sorry this has happened, for I think
+their jangling makes excellent sport."
+
+"You heard," said Oberon, "that Demetrius and Lysander are gone
+to seek a convenient place to fight in. I command you to overhang
+the night with a thick fog, and lead these quarrelsome lovers so
+astray in' the dark that they shall not be able to find each
+other. Counterfeit each of their voices to the other, and with
+bitter taunts provoke them to follow you, while they think it is
+their rival's tongue they hear. See you do this, till they are so
+weary they can go no farther; and when you find they are asleep,
+drop the juice of this other flower into Lysander's eyes, and
+when he awakes he will forget his new love for Helena, and return
+to his old passion for Hermia; and then the two fair ladies may
+each one be happy with the man she loves and they will think all
+that has passed a vexatious dream. About this quickly, Puck, and
+I will go and see what sweet love my Titania has found."
+
+Titania was still sleeping, and Oberon, seeing a clown near her
+who had lost his way in the wood and was likewise asleep, "This
+fellow," said he, "shall be my Titania's true love"; and clapping
+an ass's head over the clown's, it seemed to fit him as well as
+if it had grown upon his own shoulders. Though Oberon fixed the
+ass's head on very gently, it awakened him, and, rising up,
+unconscious of what Oberon had done to him, he went toward the
+bower where the fairy queen slept.
+
+"Ah I what angel is that I see?" said Titania, opening her eyes,
+and the juice of the little purple flower beginning to take
+effect. "Are you as wise as you are beautiful?"
+
+"Why, mistress," said the foolish clown, "if I have wit enough to
+find the way out of this wood, I have enough to serve my turn."
+
+"Out of the wood do not desire to go," said the enamoured queen.
+"I am a spirit of no common rate. I love you. Go with me, and I
+will give you fairies to attend upon you."
+
+She then called four of her fairies. Their names were
+Peas-blossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed.
+
+"Attend," said the queen, "upon this sweet gentleman. Hop in his
+walks and gambol in his sight; feed him with grapes and apricots,
+and steal for him the honey-bags from the bees. Come, sit with
+me," said she to the clown., "and let me play with your amiable
+hairy cheeks, my beautiful ass! and kiss your fair large ears, my
+gentle joy."
+
+"Where is Peas-blossom?" said the ass-headed clown, not much
+regarding the fairy queen's courtship, but very proud of his new
+attendants.
+
+"Here, sir," said little Peas-blossom.
+
+"Scratch my head," said the clown. "Where is Cobweb?"
+
+"Here, sir," said Cobweb.
+
+"Good Mr. Cobweb," said the foolish clown, "kill me the red
+humblebee on the top of that thistle yonder; and, good Mr.
+Cobweb, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in
+the action, Mr. Cobweb, and take care the honey-bag break not; I
+should be sorry to have you overflown with a honey-bag. Where is
+Mustard-seed?"
+
+"Here, sir, " said Mustard-seed. "What is your will?"
+
+"Nothing," said the clown, "good Mr. Mustard-seed, but to help
+Mr. Peas-blossom to scratch; I must go to a barber's, Mr.
+Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face."
+
+"My sweet love," said the queen, "what will you have to eat? I
+have a venturous fairy shall seek the squirrel's hoard, and fetch
+you some new nuts."
+
+"I had rather have a handful of dried peas,"' said the clown, who
+with his ass's head had got an ass's appetite. "But, I pray, let
+none of your people disturb me, for I have a mind to sleep."
+
+"Sleep, then," said the queen, "and I will wind you in my arms.
+Oh, how I love you! how I dote upon you!"
+
+When the fairy king saw the clown sleeping in the arms of his
+queen, he advanced within her sight, and reproached her with
+having lavished her favors upon an ass.
+
+This she could not deny, as the clown was then sleeping within
+her arms, with his ass's head crowned by her with flowers.
+
+When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again demanded the
+changeling boy; which she, ashamed of being discovered by her
+lord with her new favorite, did not dare to refuse him.
+
+Oberon, having thus obtained the little boy he had so long wished
+for to be his page, took pity on the disgraceful situation into
+which, by his merry contrivance, he had brought his Titania, and
+threw some of the juice of the other flower into her eyes; and
+the fairy queen immediately recovered her senses, and wondered at
+her late dotage, saying how she now loathed the sight of the
+strange monster.
+
+Oberon likewise took the ass's head from off the clown, and left
+him to finish his nap with his own fool's head upon his
+shoulders.
+
+Oberon and his Titania being now perfectly reconciled, he related
+to her the history of the lovers and their midnight quarrels, and
+she agreed to go with him and see the end of their adventures.
+
+The fairy king and queen found the lovers and their fair ladies,
+at no great distance from one another, sleeping on a grass-plot;
+for Puck, to make amends for his former mistake, had contrived
+with the utmost diligence to bring them all to the same spot,
+unknown to one another; and he bad carefully removed the charm
+from off the eyes of Lysander with the antidote the fairy king
+gave to him.
+
+Hermia first awoke, and, finding her lost Lysander asleep so near
+her, was looking at him and wondering at his strange inconstancy.
+Lysander presently opening his eyes, and seeing his dear Hermia,
+recovered his reason which the fairy charm had before clouded,
+and with his reason his love for Hermia; and they began to talk
+over the adventures of the night, doubting if these things had
+really happened, or if they bad both been dreaming the same
+bewildering dream.
+
+Helena and Demetrius were by this time awake; and a sweet sleep
+having quieted Helena's disturbed and angry spirits, she listened
+with delight to the professions of love which Demetrius still
+made to her, and which, to her surprise as well as pleasure, she
+began to perceive were sincere.
+
+These fair night-wandering ladies, now no longer rivals, became
+once more true friends; all the unkind words which had passed
+were forgiven, and they calmly consulted together what was best
+to be done in their present situation. It was soon agreed that,
+as Demetrius bad given up his pretensions to Hermia, he should
+endeavor to prevail upon her father to revoke the cruel sentence
+of death which had been passed against her. Demetrius was
+preparing to return to Athens for this friendly purpose, when
+they were surprised with the sight of Egeus, Hermia's father, who
+came to the wood in pursuit of his runaway daughter.
+
+When Egeus understood that Demetrius would not now marry his
+daughter, he no longer opposed her marriage with Lysander,  but
+gave his consent that they should be wedded on the fourth day
+from that time, being the same day on which Hermia had been
+condemned to lose her life; and on that same day Helena joyfully
+agreed to marry her beloved and now faithful Demetrius.
+
+The fairy king and queen, who were invisible spectators of this
+reconciliation, and now saw the happy ending of the lovers'
+history, brought about through the good offices of Oberon,
+received so much pleasure that these kind spirits resolved to
+celebrate the approaching nuptials with sports and revels
+throughout their fairy kingdom.
+
+And now, if any are offended with this story of fairies and their
+pranks, as judging it incredible and strange, they have only to
+think that they have been asleep and dreaming, and that all these
+adventures were visions which they saw in their sleep. And I hope
+none of my readers will be so unreasonable as to be offended with
+a pretty, harmless Midsummer Night's Dream.
+
+
+
+WINTER'S TALE
+
+Leontes, King of Sicily, and his queen,  the beautiful and
+virtuous Hermione,  once lived in the greatest harmony together.
+So happy was Leontes in the  love of this excellent lady that he
+had  no wish ungratified, except that he some times desired to
+see again and to present  to his queen his old companion and
+schoolfellow, Polixenes, King of Bohemia. Leontes and Polixenes
+were brought up together from their infancy, but being, by the
+death of their fathers, called to reign over their respective
+kingdoms, they had not met for many years, though they frequently
+interchanged gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
+
+At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came from
+Bohemia to the Sicilian court, to make his friend Leontes a
+visit.
+
+At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to Leontes. He
+recommended the friend of his youth to the queen's particular
+attention, and seemed in the presence of his dear friend and old
+companion to have his felicity quite completed. They talked over
+old times; their school-days and their youthful pranks were
+remembered, and recounted to Hermione, who always took a cheerful
+part in these conversations.
+
+When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart,
+Hermione, at the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to
+his that Polixenes would prolong his visit.
+
+And now began this good queen's sorrow; for Polixenes, refusing
+to stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione's
+gentle and persuasive words to put off his departure for some
+weeks longer. Upon this, although Leontes had so long known the
+integrity and honorable principles of his friend Polixenes, as
+well as the excellent disposition of his virtuous queen, he was
+seized with an ungovernable jealousy. Every attention Hermione
+showed to Polixenes, though by her husband's particular desire
+and merely to please him, increased the unfortunate king's
+jealousy; and from being a loving and a true friend, and the best
+and fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage and
+inhuman monster. Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his
+court, and telling him of the suspicion he entertained, he
+commanded him to poison Polixenes.
+
+Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that the jealousy of
+Leontes had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of
+poisoning Polixenes, acquainted him with the king his master's
+orders, and agreed to escape with him out of the Sicilian
+dominions; and Polixenes, with the assistance of Camillo,
+arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia, where Camillo lived
+from that time in the king's court and became the chief friend
+and favorite of Polixenes.
+
+The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more;
+he went to the queen's apartment, where the good lady was sitting
+with her little son Mamillius, who was just beginning to tell one
+of his best stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered
+and, taking the child away, sent Hermione to prison.
+
+Mamillius, though but a very young child, loved his mother
+tenderly; and when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was
+taken from him to be put into a prison, he took it deeply to
+heart and drooped and pined away by slow degrees, losing his
+appetite and his sleep, till it was thought his grief would kill
+him.
+
+The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded
+Cleomenes and Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there
+to inquire of the oracle at the temple of Apollo if his queen had
+been unfaithful to him.
+
+When Hermione had been a short time in prison she was brought to
+bed of a daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from
+the sight of her pretty baby, and she said to it, "My poor little
+prisoner, I am as innocent as you are."
+
+Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited Paulina, who was
+the wife of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the lady Paulina
+heard her royal mistress was brought to bed she went to the
+prison where Hermione was confined; and she said to Emilia, a
+lady who attended upon Hermione, "I pray you, Emilia, tell the
+good queen, if her Majesty dare trust me with her little babe, I
+will carry it to the king, its father: we do not know how he may
+soften at the sight of his innocent child."
+
+"Most worthy madam," replied Emilia, "I will acquaint the queen
+with your noble offer. She was wishing to-day that she had any
+friend who would venture to present the child to the king."
+
+"And tell her," said Paulina. "that I will speak boldly to
+Leontes in her defense."
+
+"May you be forever blessed," said Emilia, "for your kindness to
+our gracious queen!"
+
+Emilia then went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to
+the care of Paulina, for she had feared that no one would dare
+venture to present the child to its father.
+
+Paulina took the new-born infant and, forcing herself into the
+king's presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king's
+anger, endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its
+father's feet; and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in
+defense of Hermione, and she reproached him severely for his
+inhumanity and implored him to have mercy on his innocent wife
+and child. But Paulina's spirited remonstrances only aggravated
+Leontes's displeasure, and he ordered her husband Antigonus to
+take her from his presence.
+
+When Paulina went away she left the little baby at its father's
+feet, thinking when he was alone with it he would look upon it
+and have pity on its helpless innocence.
+
+The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was she gone than
+the merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina's husband,
+to take the child and carry it out to sea and leave it upon some
+desert shore to perish.
+
+Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of
+Leontes; for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and
+put out to sea, intending to leave it on the first desert coast
+he could find.
+
+So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of Hermione that he
+would not wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion; whom he had
+sent to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the
+queen was recovered from her lying-in, and from the grief for the
+loss of her precious baby, he had her brought to a public trial
+before all the lords and nobles of his court. And when all the
+great lords, the judges, and all the nobility of the land were
+assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy queen was
+standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their
+judgment, Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly and presented
+to the king the answer of the oracle, sealed up; and Leontes
+commanded the seal to be broken, and the words of the oracle to
+be read aloud, and these were the words:
+
+"Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true
+subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live
+without an heir if that which is lost be not found."
+
+The king would give no credit to the words of the oracle. He said
+it was a falsehood invented by the queen's friends, and be
+desired the judge to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while
+Leontes was speaking a man entered and told him that the Prince
+Mamillius, hearing his mother was to be tried for her life,
+struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.
+
+Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear, affectionate
+child, who had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune,
+fainted; and Leontes, pierced to the heart by the news, began to
+feel pity for his unhappy queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the
+ladies who were her attendants, to take her away and use means
+for her recovery. Paulina soon returned and told the king that
+Hermione was dead.
+
+When Leontes heard that the queen was dead he repented of his
+cruelty to her; and now that he thought his ill-usage had broken
+Hermione's heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought
+the words of the oracle were true, as he knew "if that which was
+lost was not found," which he concluded was his young daughter,
+he should be without an heir, the young Prince Mamillius being
+dead; and he would give his kingdom now to recover his lost
+daughter. And Leontes gave himself up to remorse and passed many
+years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
+
+The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to
+sea was driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very
+kingdom of the good King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed and
+here he left the little baby.
+
+Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had
+left his daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear
+came out of the woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment
+on him for obeying the wicked order Leontes.
+
+The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione
+had made it very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus
+had pinned a paper to its mantle, and the name of "Perdita"
+written thereon, and words obscurely intimating its high birth
+and untoward fate.
+
+This poor, deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane
+man, and so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who
+nursed it tenderly. But poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal
+the rich prize be had found; therefore he left that part of the
+country, that no one might know where he got his riches, and with
+part of Perdita's jewels be bought herds of sheep and became a
+wealthy shepherd. He brought up Perdita as his own child, and she
+knew not she was any other than a shepherd's daughter.
+
+The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no
+better education than that of a shepherd's daughter, yet so did
+the natural graces she inherited from her royal mother shine
+forth in her untutored mind that no one, from her behavior, would
+have known she had not been brought up in her father's court.
+
+Polixenes, the King of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was
+Florizel. As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd's
+dwelling he saw the old man's supposed daughter; and the beauty,
+modesty, and queenlike deportment of Perdita caused him instantly
+to fall in love with her. He soon, under the name of Doricles,
+and in the disguise of a private gentleman, became a constant
+visitor at the old shepherd's house. Florizel's frequent absences
+from court alarmed Polixenes; and setting people to watch his
+son, he discovered his love for the shepherd's fair daughter.
+
+Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had
+preserved his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he
+would accompany him to the house of the shepherd, the supposed
+father of Perdita. Polixenes and Camillo, both in disguise,
+arrived at the old shepherd's dwelling while they were
+celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and though they were
+strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing, every guest being made
+welcome, they were invited to walk in and join in the general
+festivity.
+
+Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were
+spread and fit great preparations were making for the rustic
+feast. Some lads and lasses were dancing on the green before the
+house, while others of the young men were buying ribands, gloves,
+and such toys of a peddler at the door.
+
+While this busy scene was going forward Florizel and Perdita sat
+quietly in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the
+conversation of each other than desirous of engaging in the
+sports and silly amusements of those around them.
+
+The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could
+know him. He therefore advanced near enough to hear the
+conversation. The simple yet elegant manner in which Perdita
+conversed with his son did not a little surprise Polixenes. He
+said to Camillo:
+
+"This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does
+or says but looks like something greater than herself, too noble
+for this place."
+
+Camillo replied, "Indeed she is the very queen of curds and
+cream."
+
+"Pray, my good friend," said the king to the old shepherd, "what
+fair swain is that talking with your daughter?"
+
+"They call him Doricles," replied the shepherd. "He says he loves
+my daughter; and, to speak truth, there is not a kiss to choose
+which loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her, she
+shall bring him that he little dreams of," meaning the remainder
+of Perdita's jewels; which, after he had bought herds of sheep
+with part of them, he had carefully hoarded up for her marriage
+portion.
+
+Polixenes then addressed his son. "How now, young man!" said he.
+"Your heart seems full of something that takes off your mind from
+feasting. When I was young I used to load my love with presents;
+but you have let the peddler go and have bought your lass no
+toy."
+
+The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king
+his father, replied, "Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the
+gifts which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart."
+Then turning to Perdita, he said to her, "Oh, hear me, Perdita,
+before this ancient gentleman, who it seems was once himself a
+lover; he shall hear what I profess." Florizel then called upon
+the old stranger to be a witness to a solemn promise of marriage
+which be made to Perdita, saying to Polixenes, "I pray you, mark
+our contract."
+
+"Mark your divorce, young sir," said the king, discovering
+himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract
+himself to this low-born maiden, calling Perdita "shepherd's
+brat, sheep-hook," and other disrespectful names, and threatening
+if ever she suffered his son to see her again, he would put her,
+and the old shepherd her father, to a cruel death.
+
+The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to
+follow him with Prince Florizel.
+
+When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was
+roused by Polixenes's reproaches, said, "Though we are all
+undone, I was not much afraid; and once or twice I was about to
+speak and tell him plainly that the selfsame sun which shines
+upon his palace hides not his face from our cottage, but looks on
+both alike." Then sorrowfully she said, "But now I am awakened
+from this dream, I will queen it no further. Leave me, sir. I
+will go milk my ewes and weep."
+
+The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and
+propriety of Perdita's behavior; and, perceiving that the young
+prince was too deeply in love to give up his mistress at the
+command of his royal father, he thought of a way to befriend the
+lovers and at the same time to execute a favorite scheme he had
+in his mind.
+
+Camillo had long known that Leontes, the King of Sicily, was
+become a true penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored
+friend of King Polixenes, he could not help wishing once more to
+see his late royal master and his native home. He therefore
+proposed to Florizel and Perdita that they should accompany him
+to the Sicilian court, where he would engage Leontes should
+protect them till, through his mediation, they could obtain
+pardon from Polixenes and his consent to their marriage.
+
+To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
+everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to
+go along with them.
+
+The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita's jewels, her
+baby clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her
+mantle.
+
+After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the
+old shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes,
+who still mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received
+Camillo with great kindness and gave a cordial welcome to Prince
+Florizel. But Perdita, whom Florizel introduced as his princess,
+seemed to engross all Leontes's attention. Perceiving a
+resemblance between her and his dead queen Hermione, his grief
+broke out afresh, and he said such a lovely creature might his
+own daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed her.
+
+"And then, too," said he to Florizel, "I lost the society and
+friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more than my
+life once again to look upon."
+
+When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of
+Perdita, and that he had lost a daughter who was exposed in
+infancy, he fell to comparing the time when he found the little
+Perdita with the manner of its exposure, the jewels and other
+tokens of its high birth; from all which it was impossible for
+him not to conclude that Perdita and the king's lost daughter
+were the same.
+
+Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were
+present when the old shepherd related to the king the manner in
+which he had found the child, and also the circumstance of
+Antigonus's death, he having seen the bear seize upon him. He
+showed the rich mantle in which Paulina remembered Hermione had
+wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which she remembered
+Hermione had tied about Perdita's neck; and he gave up the paper
+which Paulina knew to be the writing of her husband. It could not
+be doubted that Perdita was Leontes's own daughter. But, oh, the
+noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for her husband's
+death and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the king's heir,
+his long-lost daughter being found!  When Leontes heard that
+Perdita was his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that
+Hermione was not living to behold her child made him that he
+could say nothing for a long time but "Oh, thy mother, thy
+mother!"
+
+Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene with saying
+to Leontes that she had a statue newly finished by that rare
+Italian master, Julio Romano, which was such a perfect
+resemblance of the queen that would his Majesty be pleased to go
+to her house and look upon it, be would be almost ready to think
+it was Hermione herself. Thither then they all went; the king,
+anxious to see the semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita longing
+to behold what the mother she never saw did look like.
+
+When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous
+statue, so perfectly did it resemble Hermione that all the king's
+sorrow was renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power
+to speak or move.
+
+"I like your silence, my liege," said Paulina; "it the more shows
+your wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?"
+
+At length the king said: "Oh, thus she stood, even with such
+majesty, when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was
+not so aged as this statue looks."
+
+Paulina replied: "So much the more the carver's excellence, who
+has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had she been
+living now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently you
+think it moves."
+
+The king then said: "Do not draw the curtain. Would I were dead!
+See, Carmillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to
+have motion in it."
+
+"I must draw the curtain, my liege," said Paulina. "You are so
+transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives."
+
+"Oh, sweet Pauline," said Leontes, "make me think so twenty years
+together! Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
+fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I
+will kiss her."
+
+"Good my lord, forbear!" said Paulina. "The ruddiness upon her
+lip is wet; you will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I
+draw the curtain?"
+
+"No, not these twenty years," said Leontes.
+
+Perdita, who all this time bad been kneeling and beholding in
+silent admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now,
+"And so long could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother."
+
+"Either forbear this transport," said Paulina to Leontes, "and
+let me draw the curtain or prepare yourself for more amazement. I
+can make the statue move indeed; aye, and descend from off the
+pedestal and take you by the hand. But then you will think, which
+I protest I am not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers."
+
+"What you can make her do," said the astonished king, "I am
+content to look upon. What you can make her speak I am content to
+hear; for it is as easy to make her speak as move."
+
+Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had
+prepared for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of
+all the beholders, the statue came down from off the pedestal and
+threw its arms around Leontes's neck. The statue then began to
+speak, praying for blessings on her husband and on her child, the
+newly found Perdita.
+
+No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes's neck and blessed
+her husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed
+Hermione herself, the real, the living queen.
+
+Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione'
+thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress's
+life; and with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since,
+never choosing Leontes should know she was living till she heard
+Perdita was found; for though she had long forgiven the injuries
+which Leontes had done to herself, she could not pardon his
+cruelty to his infant daughter.
+
+His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found,
+the long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of
+his own happiness.
+
+Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard
+on all sides. Now the delighted parents thanked Prince Florizel
+for loving their lowly seeming daughter; and now they blessed the
+good old shepherd for preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo
+and Paulina rejoice that they had lived to see so good an end of
+all their faithful services.
+
+And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
+unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
+
+When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that
+Camillo had long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he
+should find the fugitives here; and, following them with all
+speed, he happened to just arrive at this the happiest moment of
+Leontes's life.
+
+Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend
+Leontes the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and
+they once more loved each other with all the warmth of their
+first boyish friendship. And there was no fear that Polixenes
+would now oppose his son's marriage with Perdita. She was no
+"sheep-hook" now, but the heiress of the crown of Sicily.
+
+Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering
+Hermione rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her
+Leontes and her Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.
+
+
+
+MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+There lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were
+Hero and  Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the
+niece, of Leonato, the governor of Messina.
+
+Beatrice was of a lively temper and  loved to divert her cousin
+Hero, who  was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly
+sallies. Whatever was going forward was sure to make matter of
+mirth for the light-hearted Beatrice.
+
+At the time the history of these ladies commences some young men
+of high rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on
+their return from a war that was just ended, in which they bad
+distinguished themselves by their great bravery, came to visit
+Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro, the Prince of Arragon, and
+his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence; and with them
+came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of Padua.
+
+These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable
+governor introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their
+old friends and acquaintance.
+
+Benedick, the moment he entered the room, began a lively
+conversation with Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not
+to be left out of any discourse, interrupted Benedick with
+saying:
+
+"I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody
+marks you."
+
+Benedick was just such another rattlebrain as Beatrice, yet he
+was not pleased at this free salutation; he thought it did not
+become a well-bred lady to be so flippant with her tongue; and he
+remembered, when he was last at Messina, that Beatrice used to
+select him to make her merry jests upon. And as there is no one
+who so little likes to be made a jest of as those who are apt to
+take the same liberty themselves, so it was with Benedick and
+Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former times but a
+perfect war of raillery was kept up between them, and they always
+parted mutually displeased with each other. Therefore, when
+Beatrice stopped him in the middle of his discourse with telling
+him nobody marked what he was saying, Benedick, affecting not to
+have observed before that she was present, said:
+
+"What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?" And now war
+broke out afresh between them, and a long jangling argument
+ensued, during which Beatrice, although she knew be had so well
+approved his valor in the late war, said that she would eat all
+he had killed there; and observing the prince take delight in
+Benedick's conversation, she called him "the prince's jester."
+This sarcasm sank deeper into the mind of Benedick than all
+Beatrice had said before. The hint she gave him that he was a
+coward, by saying she would eat all he bad killed, he did not
+regard, knowing himself to be a brave man; but there is nothing
+that great wits so much dread as the imputation of buffoonery,
+because the charge comes sometimes a little too near the truth;
+therefore Benedick perfectly hated Beatrice when she called him
+"the prince's jester."
+
+The modest lady Hero was silent before the noble guests; and
+while Claudio was attentively observing the improvement which
+time had made in her beauty, and was contemplating the exquisite
+graces of her fine figure (for she was an admirable young lady),
+the prince was highly amused with listening to the humorous
+dialogue between Benedick and Beatrice; and he said in a whisper
+to Leonato:
+
+"This is a pleasant-spirited young lady. She were an excellent
+wife for Benedick."
+
+Leonato replied to this suggestion, "O my lord, my lord, if they
+were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad!"
+
+But though Leonato thought they would make a discordant pair, the
+prince did not give up the idea of matching these two keen wits
+together.
+
+When the prince returned with Claudio from the palace he found
+that the marriage he had devised between Benedick and Beatrice
+was not the only one projected in that good company, for Claudio
+spoke in such terms of Hero as made the prince guess at what was
+passing in his heart; and he liked it well, and he said to
+Claudio:
+
+"Do you affect Hero?"
+
+To this question Claudio replied, "O my lord, when I was last at
+Messina I looked upon her with a soldier's eye, that liked, but
+had no leisure for loving; but now, in this happy time of peace,
+thoughts of war have left their places vacant in my mind, and in
+their room come thronging soft and delicate thoughts, all
+prompting me how fair young Hero is, reminding me that I liked
+her before I went to the wars."
+
+Claudio's confession of his love for Hero so wrought upon the
+prince that be lost no time in soliciting the consent of Leonato
+to accept of Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato agreed to this
+proposal, and the prince found no great difficulty in persuading
+the gentle Hero herself to listen to the suit of the noble
+Claudio who was a lord of rare endowments and highly
+accomplished, and Claudio, assisted by his kind prince, soon
+prevailed upon Leonato to fix an early day for the celebration of
+his marriage with Hero.
+
+Claudio was to wait but a few days before he was to be married to
+his fair lady; yet he complained of the interval being tedious,
+as indeed most young men are impatient when they are waiting for
+the accomplishment of any event they have set their hearts upon.
+The prince, therefore, to make the time seem short to him,
+proposed as a kind of merry pastime that they should invent some
+artful scheme to make Benedick and Beatrice fall in love with
+each other. Claudio entered with great satisfaction into this
+whim of the prince, and Leonato promised them his assistance, and
+even Hero said she would do any modest office to help her cousin
+to a good husband.
+
+The device the prince invented was that the gentlemen should make
+Benedick believe that Beatrice was in love with him, and that
+Hero should make Beatrice believe that Benedick was in love with
+her.
+
+The prince, Leonato, and Claudio began their operations first;
+and watching upon an opportunity when Benedick was quietly seated
+reading in an arbor, the prince and his assistants took their
+station among the trees behind the arbor, so near that Benedick
+could not choose but hear all they said; and after some careless
+talk the prince said:
+
+"Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me the other
+day--that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick? I
+did never think that lady would have loved any man."
+
+"No, nor I neither, my lord," answered Leonato. "It is most
+wonderful that she should so dote on Benedick, whom she in all
+outward behavior seemed ever to dislike."
+
+Claudio confirmed all this with saying that Hero bad told him
+Beatrice was so in love with Benedick that she would certainly
+die of grief if he could not be brought to love her; which
+Leonato and Claudio seemed to agree was impossible, he having
+always been such a railer against all fair ladies, and in
+particular against Beatrice.
+
+The prince affected to harken to all this with great compassion
+for Beatrice, and he said, "It were good that Benedick were told
+of this."
+
+"To what end?" said Claudio. "He would but make sport of it, and
+torment the poor lady worse."
+
+"And if he should," said the prince, "it were a good deed to hang
+him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and exceeding wise
+in everything but in loving Benedick."
+
+Then the prince motioned to his companions that they should walk
+on and leave Benedick to meditate upon what he had overheard.
+
+Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this
+conversation; and he said to himself, when be heard Beatrice
+loved him: "Is it possible? Sits the wind in that corner?" And
+when they were gone, he began to reason in this manner with
+himself: "This can be no trick! They were very serious, and they
+have the truth from Hero, and seem to pity the lady. Love me!
+Why, it must be requited! I did never think to marry. But when I
+said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live to
+be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so.
+And wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great
+argument of her folly! But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she
+is a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her."
+
+Beatrice now approached him and said, with her usual tartness,
+"Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner."
+
+Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so politely to
+her before, replied, "Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains."
+And when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left
+him, Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness
+under the uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud: "If I do
+not take pity on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am
+a Jew. I will go get her picture."
+
+The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for
+him, it was now Hero's turn to play her part with Beatrice; and
+for this purpose she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two
+gentlewomen who attended upon her, and she said to Margaret:
+
+"Good Margaret, run to the parlor; there you will find my cousin
+Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio. Whisper in her ear
+that I and Ursula are walking in the orchard and that our
+discourse is all of her. Bid her steal into that pleasant arbor,
+where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, like ungrateful minions,
+forbid the sun to enter."
+
+This arbor into which Hero desired Margaret to entice Beatrice
+was the very same pleasant arbor where Benedick had so lately
+been an attentive listener.
+
+"I will make her come, I warrant, presently," said Margaret.
+
+Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her:
+"Now, Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and down this
+alley, and our talk must be only of Benedick, and when I name
+him, let it be your part to praise him more than ever man did
+merit. My talk to you must be how Benedick is in love with
+Beatrice. Now begin; for look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs
+close by the ground, to hear our conference."
+
+They then began, Hero saying', as if in answer to something which
+Ursula had said: "No, truly, Ursula. She is too disdainful; her
+spirits are as coy as wild birds of the rock."
+
+"But are you sure," said Ursula, "that Benedick loves Beatrice so
+entirely?"
+
+Hero replied, "So says the prince and my lord Claudio, and they
+entreated me to acquaint her with it; but I persuaded them, if
+they loved Benedick, never to let Beatrice know of it."
+
+"Certainly," replied Ursula, "it were not good she knew his love,
+lest she made sport of it."
+
+"Why, to say truth," said Hero, never yet saw a man, how wise
+soever, or noble, young,@ or rarely featured, but she would
+dispraise him."
+
+"Sure@ sure, such carping is not commendable," said Ursula.
+
+"No," replied Hero, "but who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
+she would mock me into air."
+
+"Oh, you wrong your cousin!" said Ursula. "She cannot be so much
+without true judgment as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signor
+Benedick."
+
+"He hath an excellent good name," said Hero. "Indeed, he is the
+first man in Italy, always excepting my dear Claudio."
+
+And now, Hero giving her attendant a hint that it was time to
+change the discourse, Ursula said, "And when are you to be
+married, madam?"
+
+Hero then told her that she was to be married to Claudio the next
+day, and desired she would go in with her and look at some new
+attire, as she wished to consult with her on what she would wear
+on the morrow.
+
+Beatrice, who had been listening with breathless eagerness to
+this dialogue, when they went away exclaimed: "What fire is in
+mine ears? Can this be true? Farewell, contempt and scorn, and
+maiden pride, adieu! Benedick, love on! I will requite you,
+taming my wild heart to your loving hand."
+
+It must have been a pleasant sight to see these old enemies
+converted into new and loving friends, and to behold their first
+meeting after being cheated into mutual liking by the merry
+artifice of the good-humored prince. But a sad reverse in the
+fortunes of Hero must now be thought of. The morrow, which was to
+have been her wedding-day, brought sorrow on the heart of Hero
+and her good father, Leonato.
+
+The prince had a half-brother, who came from the wars along with
+him to Messina. This brother (his name was Don John) was a
+melancholy, discontented man, whose spirits seemed to labor in
+the contriving of villainies. He hated the prince his brother,
+and he hated Claudio because he was the prince's friend, and
+determined to prevent Claudio's marriage with Hero, only for the
+malicious pleasure of making Claudio and the prince unhappy, for
+he knew the prince had set his heart upon this marriage almost as
+much as Claudio himself; and to effect this wicked purpose he
+employed one Borachio, a man as bad as himself, whom he
+encouraged with the offer of a great reward. This Borachio paid
+his court to Margaret, Hero's attendant; and Don John, knowing
+this, prevailed upon him to make Margaret promise to talk with
+him from her lady's chamber window that night, after Hero was
+asleep, and also to dress herself in Hero's clothes, the better
+to deceive Claudio into the belief that it was Hero; for that was
+the end he meant to compass by this wicked plot.
+
+Don John then went to the prince and Claudio and told them that
+Hero was an imprudent lady, and that she talked with men from her
+chamber window at midnight. Now this was the evening before the
+wedding, and he offered to take them that night where they should
+themselves hear Hero discoursing with a man from her window; and
+they consented to go along with him, and Claudio said:
+
+"If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her, to-morrow
+in the congregation, where I intended to wed her, there will I
+shame her."
+
+The prince also said, "And as I assisted you to obtain her, I
+will join with you to disgrace her."
+
+When Don John brought them near Hero's chamber that night, they
+saw Borachio standing under the window, and they saw Margaret
+looking out of Hero's window and heard her talking with Borachio;
+and Margaret being dressed in the same clothes they had seen Hero
+wear, the prince and Claudio believed it was the lady Hero
+herself.
+
+Nothing could equal the anger of Claudio when he had made (as be
+thought) this discovery. All his love for the innocent Hero was
+at once converted into hatred, and he resolved to expose her in
+the church, as he had said he would, the next day; and the
+prince agreed to this, thinking no punishment could be too severe
+for the naughty lady who talked with a man from her window the
+very night before she was going to be married to the noble
+Claudio.
+
+The next day, when they were all met to celebrate the marriage,
+and Claudio and Hero were standing before the priest, and the
+priest, or friar, as he was called, was proceeding to pronounce
+the marriage ceremony, Claudio, in the most passionate language,
+proclaimed the guilt of the blameless Hero, who, amazed at the
+strange words he uttered, said, meekly:
+
+"Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide?"
+
+Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, "My lord, why
+speak not you?"
+
+"What should I speak?" said the prince. "I stand dishonored that
+have gone about to link my dear friend to an unworthy woman.
+Leonato, upon my honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved
+Claudio did see and bear her last night at midnight talk with a
+man at her chamber window."
+
+Benedick, in astonishment at what he heard, said, "This looks not
+like a nuptial."
+
+"True, O God!" replied the heart-struck Hero; and then this
+hapless lady sank down in a fainting fit, to all appearance dead.
+
+The prince and Claudio left the church without staying to see if
+Hero would recover, or at all regarding the distress into which
+they had thrown Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made
+them.
+
+Benedick remained and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her
+swoon, saying, "How does the lady?"
+
+"Dead, I think," replied Beatrice, in great agony, for she loved
+her cousin; and, knowing her virtuous principles, she believed
+nothing of what she had heard spoken against her.
+
+Not so the poor old father. He believed the story of his child's
+shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she
+lay like one dead before him, wishing she might never more open
+her eyes.
+
+But the ancient friar was a wise man and full of observation on
+human nature, and he had attentively marked the lady's
+countenance when she heard herself accused and noted a thousand
+blushing shames to start into her face, and then he saw an
+angel-like whiteness bear away those blushes, and in her eye be
+saw a fire that did belie the error that the prince did speak
+against her maiden truth, and he said to the sorrowing father:
+
+"Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observation; trust
+not my age, my reverence, nor my calling, if this sweet lady lie
+not guiltless here under some biting error."
+
+When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen,
+the friar said to her, "Lady, what man is he you are accused of?"
+
+Hero replied, "They know that do accuse me; I know of none." Then
+turning to Leonato, she said, "O my father, if you can prove that
+any man has ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I
+yesternight changed words with any creature, refuse me, hate me,
+torture me to death."
+
+"There is," said the friar, "some strange misunderstanding in the
+prince and Claudio." And then he counseled Leonato that he should
+report that Hero was dead; and he said that the deathlike swoon
+in which they had left Hero would make this easy of belief; and
+he also advised him that he should put on mourning, and erect a
+monument for her, and do all rites that appertain to a burial.
+
+"What shall become of this?" said Leonato. "What will this do?"
+
+The friar replied: "This report of her death shall change slander
+into pity; that is some good. But that is not all the good 1 hope
+for. When Claudio shall hear she died upon hearing his words, the
+idea of her life shall sweetly creep into his imagination. Then
+shall he mourn, if ever love had interest in his heart, and wish
+that be had not so accused her; yea, though he thought his
+accusation true."
+
+Benedick now said, "Leonato, let the friar advise you; and though
+you know how well I love the prince and Claudio, yet on my honor
+I will not reveal this secret to them."
+
+Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said, sorrowfully, "I am
+so grieved that the smallest twine may lead me."
+
+The kind friar then led Leonato and Hero away to comfort and
+console them, and Beatrice and Benedick remained alone; and this
+was the meeting from which their friends, who contrived the merry
+plot against them, expected so much diversion; those friends who
+were now overwhelmed with affliction and from whose minds all
+thoughts of merriment seemed forever banished.
+
+Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, "Lady Beatrice,
+have you wept all this while?"
+
+"Yea, and I will weep awhile longer," said Beatrice.
+
+"Surely," said. Benedick, "I do believe your fair cousin is
+wronged."
+
+"Ah," said Beatrice, "how much might that man deserve of me who
+would right her!"
+
+Benedick then said: "Is there any way to show such friendship? I
+do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that
+strange?"
+
+"It were as possible," said Beatrice, "for me to say I loved
+nothing in the world so well as you; but believe me not, and yet
+I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for
+my cousin."
+
+"By my sword," said Benedick, "you love me, and I protest I love
+you. Come, bid me do anything for you."
+
+"Kill Claudio," said Beatrice.
+
+"Ha! not for the world," said Benedick; for he loved his friend
+Claudio and he believed he had been imposed upon.
+
+"Is not Claudio a villain that has slandered, scorned, and
+dishonored my cousin?" said Beatrice. "Oh, that I were a man!"
+
+"Hear me, Beatrice!" said Benedick.
+
+But Beatrice would hear nothing in Claudio's defense, and she
+continued to urge on Benedick to revenge her cousin's wrongs; and
+she said: "Talk with a man out of the window? a proper saying!
+Sweet Hero! she is wronged; she is slandered; she is undone. Oh,
+that I were a man for Claudio's sake! or that I had any friend
+who would be a man for my sake! But valor is melted into
+courtesies and compliments. I cannot be a man with wishing,
+therefore I will die a woman with grieving."
+
+"Tarry, good Beatrice," said Benedick. "By this hand I love you."
+
+"Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it," said
+Beatrice.
+
+"Think you on your soul that Claudio has wronged Hero?" asked
+Benedick.
+
+"Yea," answered Beatrice; CC as sure as I have a thought or a
+soul."
+
+"Enough," said Benedick. "I am engaged; I will challenge him. I
+will kiss your hand, and so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall
+render me a dear account! As you hear from me, so think of me.
+Go, comfort your cousin."
+
+While Beatrice was thus powerfully pleading with Benedick, and
+working his gallant temper, by the spirit of her angry words, to
+engage in the cause of Hero and fight even with his dear friend
+Claudio, Leonato was challenging the prince and Claudio to answer
+with their swords the injury they had done his child, who, be
+affirmed, had died for grief. But they respected his age and his
+sorrow, and they said:
+
+"Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man."
+
+And now came Benedick, and be also challenged Claudio to answer
+with his sword the injury be had done to Hero; and Claudio and
+the prince said to each other:
+
+"Beatrice has set him on to do this."
+
+Claudio, nevertheless, must have accepted this challenge of
+Benedick had not the justice of Heaven at the moment brought to
+pass a better proof of the innocence of Hero than the uncertain
+fortune of a duel.
+
+While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the challenge of
+Benedick a magistrate brought Borachio as a prisoner before the
+prince. Borachio had been overheard talking with one of his
+companions of the mischief he had been employed by Don John to
+do.
+
+Borachio made a full confession to the prince in Claudio's
+bearing that it was Margaret dressed in her lady's clothes that
+he had talked with from the window, whom they had mistaken for
+the lady Hero herself. and no doubt continued on the minds of
+Claudio and the prince of the innocence of Hero. If a suspicion
+had remained it must have been removed by the flight of Don John,
+who, finding his villainies were detected, fled from Messina to
+avoid the just anger of his brother.
+
+The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found he bad
+falsely accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon bearing his
+cruel words; and the memory of his beloved Hero's image came over
+him in the rare semblance that he loved it first; and the prince,
+asking him if what he heard did not run like iron through his
+soul, he answered that he felt as if he had taken poison while
+Borachio was speaking.
+
+And the repentant Claudio implored forgiveness of the old man
+Leonato for the injury he had done his child; and promised that,
+whatever penance Leonato would lay upon him for his fault in
+believing the false accusation against his betrothed wife, for
+her dear sake he would endure it.
+
+The penance Leonato enjoined him was to marry the next morning a
+cousin of Hero's, who, he said, was now his heir, and in person
+very like Hero. Claudio, regarding the solemn promise he made to
+Leonato, said he would marry this unknown lady, even though she
+were an Ethiop. But his heart was very sorrowful, and he passed
+that night in tears and in remorseful grief at the tomb which
+Leonato had erected for Hero.
+
+When the morning came the prince accompanied Claudio to the
+church, where the good friar and Leonato and his niece were
+already assembled, to celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato
+presented to Claudio his promised bride. And she wore a mask,
+that Claudio might not discover her face. And Claudio said to the
+lady in the mask:
+
+"Give me your hand, before this holy friar. I am your husband, if
+you will marry me."
+
+"And when I lived I was your other wife," said this unknown
+lady; and, taking off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was
+pretended), but Leonato's very daughter, the lady Hero herself.
+We may be sure that this proved a most agreeable surprise to
+Claudio, who thought her dead, so that be could scarcely for joy
+believe his eyes; and the prince, who was equally amazed at what
+he saw, exclaimed:
+
+"Is not this Hero, Hero that was dead?"'
+
+Leonato replied, "She died, my lord, but while her slander
+lived."
+
+The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle,
+after the ceremony was ended, and was proceeding to marry them
+when he was interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at
+the same time to Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this
+match, and Benedick challenging her with her love for him, which
+he had learned from Hero, a pleasant explanation took place; and
+they found they had both been tricked into a belief of love,
+which had never existed, and had become lovers in truth by the
+power of a false jest. But the affection which a merry invention
+had cheated them into was grown too powerful to be shaken by a
+serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry, he was
+resolved to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say
+against it; and he merrily kept up the jest and swore to Beatrice
+that he took her but for pity, and because he heard she was dying
+of love for him; and Beatrice protested that she yielded but upon
+great persuasion, and partly to save his life, for she heard he
+was in a consumption. So these two mad wits were reconciled and
+made a match of it, after Claudio and Hero were married; and to
+complete the history, Don John, the contriver of the villainy,
+was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina; and a
+@@brave
+punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented man to see the joy
+and feastings which, by the disappointment of his plots, took
+place in the palace in Messina.
+
+
+
+AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+During the time that France was divided into provinces (or
+dukedoms, as they were called) there reigned in one of these
+provinces a usurper who had deposed and banished his elder
+brother, the lawful duke.
+
+The duke who was thus driven from his dominions retired with a
+few faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good
+duke lived with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a
+voluntary exile for his sake, while their land and revenues
+enriched the false usurper; and custom soon made the life of
+careless ease they led here more sweet to them than the pomp and
+uneasy splendor of a courtier's life. Here they lived like the
+old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many noble youths
+daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time carelessly,
+as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they lay
+along under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the
+playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these
+poor dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of
+the forest, that it grieved them to be forced to kill them to
+supply themselves with venison for their food. When the cold
+winds of winter made the duke feel the change of his adverse
+fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say:
+
+"These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true
+counselors; they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my
+condition; and though they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing
+like so keen as that of unkindness and ingratitude. I find that
+howsoever men speak against adversity, yet some sweet uses are to
+be extracted from it; like the jewel, precious for medicine,
+which is taken from the head of the venomous and despised toad."
+
+In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from
+everything that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn,
+in that life of his, remote from public haunts, he could find
+tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones,
+and good in everything.
+
+The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the
+usurper, Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still
+retained in his court as a companion for his own daughter, Celia.
+A strict friendship subsisted between these ladies, which the
+disagreement between their fathers did not in the least
+interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her power to make
+amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father in
+deposing the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her
+father's banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper,
+made Rosalind melancholy, Celia's whole care was to comfort and
+console her.
+
+One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to
+Rosalind, saying, "I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be
+merry," a messenger entered from the duke, to tell them that if
+they wished to see a wrestling-match, which was just going to
+begin, they must come instantly to the court before the palace;
+and Celia, thinking it would amuse Rosalind, agreed to go and see
+it.
+
+In those times wrestling, which is only practised now by country
+clowns, was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and
+before fair ladies and princesses. To this wrestling-match,
+therefore, Celia and Rosalind went. They found that it was likely
+to prove a very tragical sight; for a large and powerful man, who
+had been long practised in the art of wrestling and had slain
+many men in contests of this kind, was just going to wrestle with
+a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and inexperience in
+the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be killed.
+
+When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind he said: "How now, daughter
+and niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will
+take little delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity
+to this young man, I would wish to persuade him from wrestling.
+Speak to him, ladies, and see if you can move him."
+
+The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and
+first Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist
+from the attempt; and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and
+with such feeling consideration for the danger he was about to
+undergo, that, instead of being persuaded by her gentle words to
+forego his purpose, all his thoughts were bent to distinguish
+himself by his courage in this lovely lady's eyes. He refused the
+request of Celia and Rosalind in such graceful and modest words
+that they felt still more concern for him; he concluded his
+refusal with saying:
+
+"I am sorry to deny such fair and excellent ladies anything. But
+let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial,
+wherein if I be conquered there is one shamed that was never
+gracious; if I am killed, there is one dead that is willing to
+die. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament
+me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; for I only
+fill up a place in the world which may be better supplied when I
+have made it empty."
+
+And now the wrestling-match began. Celia wished the young
+stranger might not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The
+friendless state which he said he was in, and that he wished to
+die, made Rosalind think that he was, like herself, unfortunate;
+and she pitied him so much, and so deep an interest she took in
+his danger while he was wrestling, that she might almost be said
+at that moment to have fallen in love with him.
+
+The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble
+ladies gave him courage and strength, so that he performed
+wonders; and in the end completely conquered his antagonist, who
+was so much hurt that for a while he was unable to speak or move.
+
+The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill
+shown by this young stranger; and desired to know his name and
+parentage, meaning to take him under his protection.
+
+The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the
+youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+
+Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some
+years; but when he was living he had been a true subject and dear
+friend of the banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard
+Orlando was the son of his banished brother's friend, all his
+liking for this brave young man was changed into displeasure and
+he left the place in very ill humor. Hating to bear the very name
+of any of his brother's friends, and yet still admiring the valor
+of the youth, he said, as he went out, that he wished Orlando had
+been the son of any other man.
+
+Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son
+of her father's old friend; and she said to Celia, "My father
+loved Sir Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was
+his son I would have added tears to my entreaties before he
+should have ventured."
+
+The ladies then went up to him and, seeing him abashed by the
+sudden displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and
+encouraging words to him; and Rosalind, when they were going
+away, turned back to speak some more civil things to the brave
+young son of her father's old friend, and taking a chain from off
+her neck, she said:
+
+"Gentleman, wear this for me. I am out of suits with fortune, or
+I would give you a more valuable present."
+
+When the ladies were alone, Rosalind's talk being still of
+Orlando, Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love
+with the handsome young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind:
+
+"Is it possible you should fall in love so suddenly?"
+
+Rosalind replied, "The duke, my father, loved his father dearly."
+
+"But," said Celia, "does it therefore follow that you should love
+his son dearly?. For then I ought to hate him, for my father
+hated his father; yet do not hate Orlando."
+
+Frederick, being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys's
+son, which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had
+among the nobility, and having been for some time displeased with
+his niece because the people praised her for her virtues and
+pitied her for her good father's sake, his malice suddenly broke
+out against her; and while Celia and Rosalind were talking of
+Orlando, Frederick entered the room and  with looks full of anger
+ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the palace and follow her
+father into banishment, telling Celia, who in vain pleaded for
+her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her account.
+
+"I did not then," said Celia, "entreat you to let her stay, for I
+was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know her
+worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the same
+instant, learned, played, and eat together, I cannot live out of
+her company."
+
+Frederick replied: "She is too subtle for you; her smoothness,
+her very silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they
+pity her. You are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more
+bright and virtuous when she is gone; therefore open not your
+lips in her favor, for the doom which I have passed upon her is
+irrevocable."
+
+When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let
+Rosalind remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany
+her; and, leaving her father's palace that night, she went along
+with her friend to seek Rosalind's father, the banished duke, in
+the forest of Arden.
+
+Before they set out Celia considered that it would be unsafe for
+two young ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore;
+she therefore proposed that they should disguise their rank by
+dressing themselves like country maids. Rosalind said it would be
+a still greater protection if one of them was to be dressed like
+a man. And so it was quickly agreed on between them that, as
+Rosalind was the tallest, she should wear the dress of a young
+countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass, and
+that they should say they were brother and sister; and Rosalind
+said she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of
+Aliena.
+
+In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray
+their expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long
+travel; for the forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the
+boundaries of the duke's dominions.
+
+The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede, as she must now be called) with
+her manly garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The
+faithful friendship Celia had shown in accompanying Rosalind so
+many weary miles made the new brother, in recompense for this
+true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as if he were indeed
+Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the gentle
+village maiden, Aliena.
+
+When at last they came to the forest of Arden they no longer
+found the convenient inns and good accommodations they had met
+with on the road, and, being in want of food and rest, Ganymede,
+who had so merrily cheered his sister with pleasant speeches and
+happy remarks all the way, now owned to Aliena that he was so
+weary he could find in his heart to disgrace his man's apparel
+and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could go no
+farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect that it was a
+man's duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel;
+and to seem courageous to his new sister, he said:
+
+"Come, have a good heart, my sister Aliena. We are now at the end
+of our travel, in the forest of Arden."
+
+But feigned manliness and forced courage would no longer support
+them; for, though they were in the forest of Arden, they knew not
+where to find the duke. And here the travel of these weary ladies
+might have come to a sad conclusion, for they might have lost
+themselves and perished for want of food, but, providentially, as
+they were sitting on the grass, almost dying with fatigue and
+hopeless of any relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way,
+and Ganymede once more tried to speak with a manly boldness,
+saying:
+
+"Shepherd, if love or gold can in this desert place procure us
+entertainment, I pray you bring us where we may rest ourselves;
+for this young maid, my sister, is much fatigued with traveling,
+and faints for want of food."
+
+The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and
+that his master's house was just going to be sold, and therefore
+they would find but poor entertainment; but that if they would go
+with him they should be welcome to what there was. They followed
+the man, the near prospect of relief giving them fresh strength,
+and bought the house and sheep of the shepherd, and took the man
+who conducted them to the shepherd's house to wait on them; and
+being by this means so fortunately provided with a neat cottage,
+and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to stay here till
+they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt.
+
+When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they
+began to like their new way of life, and almost fancied
+themselves the shepherd and shepherdess they feigned to be. Yet
+sometimes Ganymede remembered be had once been the same Lady
+Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave Orlando because be was
+the son of old Sir Rowland, her father's friend; and though
+Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so
+many weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that
+Orlando was also in the forest of Arden. And in this manner this
+strange event came to pass.
+
+Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he
+died, left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his
+eldest brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give
+his brother a good education and provide for him as became the
+dignity of their ancient house. Oliver proved an unworthy
+brother, and, disregarding the commands of his dying father, he
+never put his brother to school, but kept him at home untaught
+and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the noble
+qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent
+father that, without any advantages of education, he seemed like
+a youth who had been bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so
+envied the fine person and dignified manners of his untutored
+brother that at last he wished to destroy him, and to effect this
+be set on people to persuade him to wrestle with the famous
+wrestler who, as has been before related, had killed so many men.
+Now it was this cruel brother's neglect of him which made Orlando
+say he wished to die, being so friendless.
+
+When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother
+proved victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he
+swore he would burn the chamber where Orlando slept. He was
+overheard making his vow by one that had been an old and faithful
+servant to their father, and that loved Orlando because he
+resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went out to meet him when he
+returned from the duke's palace, and when he saw Orlando the
+peril his dear young master was in made him break out into these
+passionate exclamations:
+
+"O my gentle master, my sweet master! O you memory of Old Sir
+Rowland! Why are you virtuous? Why are you gentle, strong, and
+valiant? And why would you be so fond to overcome the famous
+wrestler? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you."
+
+Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the
+matter. And then the old man told him how his wicked brother,
+envying the love all people bore him, and now hearing the fame he
+had gained by his victory in the duke's palace, intended to
+destroy him by setting fire to his chamber that night, and in
+conclusion advised him to escape the danger he was in by
+instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that
+was the good old man's name) had brought out with him his own
+little hoard, and he said:
+
+"I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under your
+father and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs
+should become unfit for service. Take that, and He that doth the
+ravens feed be comfort to my age! Here is the gold. All this I
+give to you. Let me be your servant; though I look old I will do
+the service of a younger man in all your business and
+necessities."
+
+"O good old man!" said Orlando, "how well appears in you the
+constant service of the old world! You are not for the fashion of
+these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful
+wages are spent I shall light upon some means for both our
+maintenance."
+
+Together, then, this faithful servant and his loved master set
+out; and Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to
+pursue, till they came to the forest of Arden, and there they
+found themselves in the same distress for want of food that
+Ganymede and Aliena had been. They wandered on, seeking some
+human habitation, till they were almost spent with hunger and
+fatigue.
+
+Adam at last said: "O my dear master, I die for want of food. I
+can go no farther!" He then laid himself down, thinking to make
+that place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell.
+
+Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up
+in his arms and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant
+trees; and he said to him: "Cheerly, old Adam. Rest your weary
+limbs here awhile, and do not talk of dying!"
+
+Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to
+arrive at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and
+his friends were just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke
+being seated on the grass, under no other canopy than the shady
+covert of some large trees.
+
+Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword,
+intending to take their meat by force, and said: "Forbear and eat
+no more. I must have your food!"
+
+The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold or if he were
+a rude despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he was
+dying with hunger; and then the duke told him he was welcome to
+sit down and eat with them. Orlando, hearing him speak so gently,
+put up his sword and blushed with shame at the rude manner in
+which he had demanded their food.
+
+"Pardon me, I pray you," said he. "I thought that all things had
+been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of stern
+command; but whatever men you are that in this desert, under the
+shade of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours
+of time, if ever you have looked on better days, if ever you have
+been where bells have knolled to church, if you have ever sat at
+any good man's feast, if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a
+tear and know what it is to pity or be pitied, may gentle
+speeches now move you to do me human courtesy!"
+
+The duke replied: "True it is that we are men (as you say) who
+have seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in
+this wild forest, we have lived in towns and cities and have with
+holy bell been knolled to church, have sat at good men's feasts,
+and from our eyes have wiped the drops which sacred pity has
+engendered; therefore sit you down and take of our refreshment as
+much as will minister to your wants."
+
+"There is an old poor man," answered Orlando, "who has limped
+after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with
+two sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied I must
+not touch a bit."
+
+"Go, find him out and bring him hither," said the duke. "We will
+forbear to eat till you return."
+
+Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food;
+and presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms.
+
+And the duke said, "Set down your venerable burthen; you are both
+welcome."
+
+And they fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived
+and recovered his health and strength again.
+
+The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was
+the son of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, be took him under
+his protection, and Orlando and his old servant lived with the
+duke in the forest.
+
+Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and
+Aliena came there and (as has been before related) bought the
+shepherd's cottage.
+
+Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of
+Rosalind carved on the trees, and love-sonnets fastened to them,
+all addressed to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this
+could be they met Orlando and they perceived the chain which
+Rosalind had given him about his neck.
+
+Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess
+Rosalind who, by her noble condescension and favor, had so won
+his heart that he passed his whole time in carving her name upon
+the trees and writing sonnets in praise of her beauty; but being
+much pleased with the graceful air of this pretty shepherd-youth,
+he entered into conversation with him, and be thought he saw a
+likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that he had
+none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede
+assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are
+between boys and men, -and with much archness and humor talked to
+Orlando of a certain lover, "who," said she, "haunts our forest,
+and spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their
+barks; and he hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles,
+all praising this same Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I
+would give him some good counsel that would soon cure him of his
+love."
+
+Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke,,
+and asked Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked Of. The
+remedy Ganymede proposed, and the counsel he gave him was that
+Orlando should come every day to the cottage where he and his
+sister Aliena dwelt.
+
+"And then," said Ganymede, "I will feign myself to be Rosalind,
+and you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would
+do if I was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways
+of whimsical ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of
+your love; and this is the way I propose to cure you."
+
+Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come
+every day to Ganymede's cottage and feign a playful courtship;
+and every day Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando
+called the shepherd Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked
+over all the fine words and flattering compliments which young
+men delight to use when they court their mistresses. It does not
+appear, however, that Ganymede made any progress in curing
+Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
+
+Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not
+dreaming that Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the
+opportunity it gave him of saying all the fond things he had in
+his heart pleased his fancy almost as well as it did Ganymede's,
+who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing these fine love-speeches
+were all addressed to the right person.
+
+In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young
+people; and the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede
+happy, let him have his own way and was diverted at the
+mock-courtship, and did not care to remind Ganymede that the Lady
+Rosalind had not yet made herself known to the duke her father,
+whose place of resort in the forest they had learned from
+Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with
+him, and the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede
+answered that he came of as good parentage as he did, which made
+the duke smile, for he did not suspect the pretty shepherd-boy
+came of royal lineage. Then seeing the duke look well and happy,
+Ganymede was content to put off all further explanation for a few
+days longer.
+
+One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man
+lying asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted
+itself about his neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided
+away among the bushes. Orlando went nearer, and then he
+discovered a lioness lie crouching, with her head on the ground,
+with a catlike watch, waiting until the sleeping man awaked (for
+it is said that lions will prey on nothing that is dead or
+sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by Providence to free
+the man from the danger of the snake and lioness; but when
+Orlando looked in the man's face he perceived that the sleeper
+who was exposed to this double peril was his own brother Oliver,
+who had so cruelly used him and had threatened to destroy him by
+fire, and he was almost tempted to leave him a prey to the hungry
+lioness; but brotherly affection and the gentleness of his nature
+soon overcame his first anger against his brother; and he drew
+his sword and attacked the lioness and slew her, and thus
+preserved his brother's life both from the venomous snake and
+from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the
+lioness she had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws.
+
+While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and,
+perceiving that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly
+treated, was saving him from the fury of a wild beast at the risk
+of his own life, shame and remorse at once seized him, and he
+repented of his unworthy conduct and besought with many tears his
+brother's pardon for the injuries he had done him. Orlando
+rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave him. They
+embraced each other and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando with
+a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent
+on his destruction.
+
+The wound in Orlando's arm having bled very much, he found
+himself too weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he
+desired his brother to go and tell Ganymede, "whom," said
+Orlando, "I in sport do call my Rosalind," the accident which had
+befallen him.
+
+Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how
+Orlando had saved his life; and when he had finished the story of
+Orlando's bravery and his own providential escape he owned to
+them that he was Orlando's brother who had so cruelly used him;
+and then be told them of their reconciliation.
+
+The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made
+such a lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena that she
+instantly fell in love with him; and Oliver observing how much
+she pitied the distress he told her he felt for his fault, he as
+suddenly fell in love with her. But while love was thus stealing
+into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, he was no less busy with
+Ganymede, who, hearing of the danger Orlando had been in, and
+that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when he
+recovered he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the
+imaginary character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver:
+
+"Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon."
+
+But Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he did
+really faint, and, much wondering at the weakness of the young
+man, he said, "Well, if you did counterfeit, take a good heart
+and counterfeit to be a man."
+
+"So I do," replied Ganymede, truly, "but I should have been a
+woman by right."
+
+Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he
+returned back to his brother he had much news to tell him; for,
+besides the account of Ganymede's fainting at the hearing that
+Orlando was wounded, Oliver told him how he had fallen in love
+with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and that she had lent a
+favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first interview;
+and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled, that
+he should marry Aliena, saying that he so well loved her that he
+would live here as a shepherd and settle his estate and house at
+home upon Orlando.
+
+"You have my consent," said Orlando. "Let your wedding be
+to-morrow, and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go
+and persuade your shepherdess to agree to this. She is now alone,
+for, look, here comes her brother."
+
+Oliver went to Aliena, and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived
+approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded
+friend.
+
+When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love
+which had taken place between Oliver and. Aliena, Orlando said be
+had advised his brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be
+married on the morrow, and then he added how much he could wish
+to be married on the same day to his Rosalind.
+
+Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if
+Orlando really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he
+should have his wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make
+Rosalind appear in her own person, and also that Rosalind should
+be willing to marry Orlando.
+
+This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the Lady
+Rosalind, he could so easily perform, be pretended he would bring
+to pass by the aid of magic, which he said he had learned of an
+uncle who was a famous magician.
+
+The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he
+heard, asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning.
+
+"By my life I do," said Ganymede. "Therefore put on your best
+clothes, and bid the duke and your friends to your wedding, for
+if you desire to be married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be
+here."
+
+The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena,
+they came into the presence of the duke, and with them also came
+Orlando.
+
+They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and
+as yet only one of the brides appearing, there was much of
+wondering and conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede
+was making a jest of Orlando.
+
+The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be
+brought in this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the
+shepherd-boy could really do what he had promised; and while
+Orlando was answering that he knew not what to think, Ganymede
+entered and asked the duke, if he brought his daughter, whether
+he would consent to her marriage with Orlando.
+
+"That I would," said the duke, "if I had kingdoms to give with
+her."
+
+Ganymede then said to Orlando, "And you say you will marry her if
+I bring her here."
+
+"That I would," said Orlando, "if I were king of many kingdoms."
+
+Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and, Ganymede
+throwing off his male attire, and being once more dressed in
+woman's apparel, quickly became Rosalind without the power of
+magic; and Aliena, changing her country garb for her own rich
+clothes, was with as little trouble transformed into the lady
+Celia.
+
+While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando that he thought
+the shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and
+Orlando said he also had observed the resemblance.
+
+They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind
+and Celia, in their own clothes, entered, and, no longer
+pretending that it was by the power of magic that she came there,
+Rosalind threw herself on her knees before her father and begged
+his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to all present that she
+should so suddenly appear, that it might well have passed for
+magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and
+told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the
+forest as a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
+
+The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the
+marriage; and Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were
+married at the same time. And though their wedding could not be
+celebrated in this wild forest with any of the parade of splendor
+usual on such occasions, yet a happier wedding-day was never
+passed. And while they were eating their venison under the cool
+shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be wanting to
+complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, an
+unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news
+that his dukedom was restored to him.
+
+The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and
+hearing that every day men of great worth resorted to the forest
+of Arden to join the lawful duke in his exile, much envying that
+his brother should be so highly respected in his adversity, put
+himself at the head of a large force and advanced toward the
+forest, intending to seize his brother and put him with all his
+faithful followers to the sword; but by a wonderful interposition
+of Providence this bad brother was converted from his evil
+intention, for just as he entered the skirts of the wild forest
+he was met by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had
+much talk and who in the end completely turned his heart from his
+wicked design. Thenceforward he became a true penitent, and
+resolved, relinquishing his unjust dominion, to spend the
+remainder of his days in a religious house. The first act of his
+newly conceived penitence was to send a messenger to his brother
+(as has been related) to offer to restore to him his dukedom,
+which be had usurped so long, and with it the lands and revenues
+of his friends, the faithful followers of his adversity.
+
+This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came
+opportunely to heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the
+wedding of the princesses. Celia complimented her cousin on this
+good, fortune which had happened to the duke, Rosalind's father,
+and wished her joy very sincerely, though she herself was no
+longer heir to the dukedom, but by this restoration which her
+father had made, Rosalind was now the heir, so completely was the
+love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of jealousy or of
+envy.
+
+The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends
+who had stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy
+followers, though they had patiently shared his adverse fortune,
+were very well pleased to return in peace and prosperity, to the
+palace of their lawful duke.
+
+
+TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose
+names were Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and
+uninterrupted friendship had long subsisted. They pursued their
+studies together, and their hours of leisure were always passed
+in each other's company, except when Proteus visited a lady he
+was in love with. And these visits to his mistress,, and this
+passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only topics on
+which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
+himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his
+friend forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at
+Proteus, and in pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and
+declare that no such idle fancies should ever enter his head,
+greatly preferring (as he said) the free and happy life he led to
+the anxious hopes and fears of the lover Proteus.
+
+One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must
+for a time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus,
+unwilling to part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail
+upon Valentine not to leave him. But Valentine said:
+
+"Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
+sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping
+youths have ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained
+to the sweet glances of your honored Julia, I would entreat you
+to accompany me, to see the wonders of the world abroad; but
+since you are a lover, love on still, and may your love be
+prosperous!"
+
+They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.
+
+"Sweet Valentine, adieu!" said Proteus. "Think on me when you see
+some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish me
+partaker of your happiness."
+
+Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when
+his friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to
+Julia, which he gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her
+mistress.
+
+Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of
+a noble spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden
+dignity too easily to be won; therefore she affected to be
+insensible of his passion and gave him much uneasiness in the
+prosecution of his suit.
+
+And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not
+receive it, and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus,
+and ordered her to leave the room. But she so much wished to see
+what was written in the letter that she soon called in her maid
+again; and when Lucetta returned she said, "What o'clock is it?"
+
+Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter
+than to know the time of day, without answering her question
+again offered the rejected letter. Julia, angry that her maid
+should thus take the liberty of seeming to know what she really
+wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on the floor,,
+ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
+retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn
+letter; but Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in
+pretended anger, "Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you
+would be fingering them to anger me."
+
+Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
+fragments. She first made out these words, "Love-wounded
+Proteus"; and lamenting over these and such like loving words,
+which she made out though they were all torn asunder, or, she
+said WOUNDED (the expression "Love-wounded Proteus" giving her
+that idea), she talked to these kind words, telling them she
+would lodge them in her bosom as in a bed, till their wounds were
+healed, and that she would kiss each several piece to make
+amends.
+
+In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike
+childishness, till, finding herself unable to make out the whole,
+and vexed at her own ingratitude in destroying such sweet and
+loving words, as she called them, she wrote a much kinder letter
+to Proteus than she had ever done before.
+
+Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer
+to his letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, "Sweet
+love! sweet lines! sweet life!"
+
+In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father.
+"How now?" said the old gentleman. "What letter are you reading
+there?"
+
+"My lord," replied Proteus, "it is a letter from my friend
+Valentine, at Milan."
+
+"Lend me the letter," said his father. "Let me see what news."
+
+"There is no news, my lord," said Proteus, greatly alarmed, "but
+that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
+daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the
+partner of his fortune."
+
+"And how stand you affected to his wish?" asked the father.
+
+"As one relying on your lordship's will and not depending on his
+friendly wish," said Proteus.
+
+Now it had happened that Proteus's father had just been talking
+with a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he
+wondered his lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home
+while most men were sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.
+
+"Some," said he, "to the wars, to try their fortunes there, and
+some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
+universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to
+the Duke of Milan's court. Your son is fit for any of these
+things, and it will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper
+age not to have traveled in his youth."
+
+Proteus's father thought the advice of his friend was very good,
+and upon Proteus telling him that Valentine "wished him with him,
+the partner of his fortune," he at once determined to send his
+son to Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this
+sudden resolution, it being the usual habit of this positive old
+gentleman to command his son, not reason with him, he said:
+
+"My will is the same as Valentine's wish." And seeing his son
+look astonished, he added: "Look not amazed, that I so suddenly
+resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan's court;
+for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
+readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory."
+
+Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father,
+who never suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself
+for telling his father an untruth about Julia's letter, which had
+brought upon him the sad necessity of leaving her.
+
+Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a
+time she no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each
+other a mournful farewell, with many vows of love and constancy.
+Proteus and Julia exchanged rings, which they both promised to
+keep forever in remembrance of each other; and thus, taking a
+sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his journey to Milan, the
+abode of his friend Valentine.
+
+Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father,
+in high favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had
+happened to him of which Proteus did not even dream, for
+Valentine had given up the freedom of which he used so much to
+boast, and was become as passionate a lover as Proteus.
+
+She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the
+Lady Silvia, daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved
+him; but they concealed their love from the duke, because,
+although he showed much kindness for Valentine and invited him
+every day to his palace, yet he designed to marry his daughter to
+a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia despised this
+Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent qualities
+of Valentine.
+
+These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit
+to Silvia, and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning
+everything Thurio said into ridicule, when the duke himself
+entered the room and told Valentine the welcome news of his
+friend Proteus's arrival.
+
+Valentine said, "If I had wished a thing, it would have been to
+have seen him here!" And then he highly praised Proteus to the
+duke, saying, "My lord, though I have been a truant of my time,
+yet hath my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and
+is complete in person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a
+gentleman."
+
+"Welcome him, then, according to his worth," said the duke.
+"Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I
+need not bid him do so."
+
+They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and
+Valentine introduced him to Silvia, saying, "Sweet lady,
+entertain him to be my fellow-servant to your ladyship."
+
+When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone
+together, Valentine said:
+
+"Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your
+lady, and how thrives your love?"
+
+Proteus replied: "My tales of love used to weary you. I know you
+joy not in a love discourse."
+
+"Aye, Proteus," returned Valentine, "but that life is altered
+now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of
+my contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled
+eyes. O gentle Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so
+humbled me that I confess there is no woe like his correction nor
+no such joy on earth as in his service. I now like no discourse
+except it be of love. Now I can break my fast, dine, sup, and
+sleep upon the very name of love."
+
+This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the
+disposition of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend
+Proteus. But "friend" Proteus must be called no longer, for the
+same all-powerful deity Love, of whom they were speaking (yea,
+even while they were talking of the change he had made in
+Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he, who had
+till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect
+friendship, was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a
+false friend and a faithless lover; for at the first sight of
+Silvia all his love for Julia vanished away like a dream, nor did
+his long friendship for Valentine deter him from endeavoring to
+supplant him in her affections; and although, as it will always
+be, when people of dispositions naturally good become unjust, be
+bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia and
+become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his
+sense of duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to
+his new unhappy passion.
+
+Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his
+love, and how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her
+father, and told him that, despairing of ever being able to
+obtain his consent, he had prevailed upon Silvia to leave her
+father's palace that night and go with him to Mantua; then he
+showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of which he meant to
+assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the palace
+after it was dark.
+
+Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend's dearest
+secrets, it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that
+Proteus resolved to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.
+
+This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the
+duke, such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal
+what he was going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke
+had shown him, and the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell
+that which else no worldly good should draw from him. He then
+told all he had heard from Valentine, not omitting the ladder of
+ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant to conceal them
+under a long cloak.
+
+The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
+preferred telling his friend's intention rather than he would
+conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him
+not to let Valentine know from whom he had learned this
+intelligence, but by some artifice to make Valentine betray the
+secret himself. For this purpose the duke awaited the coming of
+Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw hurrying toward the
+palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within his cloak,
+which he concluded was the rope ladder.
+
+The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, "Whither away so fast,
+Valentine?"
+
+"May it please your grace," said Valentine, "there is a messenger
+that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
+deliver them."
+
+Now this falsehood of Valentine's had no better success in the
+event than the untruth Proteus told his father.
+
+"Be they of much import?" said the duke.
+
+"No more, my lord," said Valentine, "than to tell my father I am
+well and happy at your grace's court."
+
+"Nay then," said the duke, "no matter; stay with me awhile. I
+wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly."
+
+He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his
+secret from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match
+his daughter with Thurio, but that she was stubborn and
+disobedient to his commands.
+
+"Neither regarding," said he, "that she is my child nor fearing
+me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
+hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have
+been cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a
+wife, and turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her
+beauty be her wedding dower, for me and my possessions she
+esteems not."
+
+Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, "And
+what would your grace have me to do in all this?"
+
+"Why," said the duke, "the lady I would wish to marry is nice and
+coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
+fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I
+would willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am
+to woo."
+
+Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then
+practised by young men when they wished to win a fair lady's
+love, such as presents, frequent visits, and the like.
+
+The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which
+he sent her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that
+no man might have access to her by day.
+
+"Why, then," said Valentine, "you must visit her by night."
+
+"But at night," said the artful duke, who was now coming to the
+drift of his discourse, "her doors are fast locked."
+
+Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get
+into the lady's chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,,
+saying he would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in
+conclusion advised him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such
+a cloak as that which he now wore.
+
+"Lend me your cloak," said the duke, who had feigned this long
+story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon
+saying these words he caught hold of Valentine's cloak and,
+throwing it back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but
+also a letter of Silvia's, which he instantly opened and read;
+and this letter contained a full account of their intended
+elopement. The duke, after upbraiding Valentine for his
+ingratitude in thus returning the favor he had shown him, by
+endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him from the
+court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
+depart that night without even seeing Silvia.
+
+While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at
+Verona was regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for
+him at last so far overcame her sense of propriety that she
+resolved to leave Verona and seek her lover at Milan; and to
+secure herself from danger on the road she dressed her maiden
+Lucetta and herself in men's clothes,-. and they set out in this
+disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was banished
+from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.
+
+Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an
+inn; and, her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered
+into conversation with the innkeeper--or host, as he was
+called--thinking by that means to learn some news of Proteus.
+
+The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman
+(as he took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was
+of high rank, spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a
+good-natured man, he was sorry to see him look so melancholy; and
+to amuse his young guest he offered to take him to hear some fine
+music, with which, he said, a gentleman that evening was going to
+serenade his mistress.
+
+The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not
+well know what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had
+taken, for she knew he had loved her for her noble maiden pride
+and dignity of character, and she feared she should lower herself
+in his esteem; and this it was that made her wear a sad and
+thoughtful countenance.
+
+She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear
+the music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the
+way.
+
+But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
+different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for
+there, to her heart's sorrow, she beheld her lover, the
+inconstant Proteus, serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and
+addressing discourse of love and admiration to her. And Julia
+overheard Silvia from a window talk with Proteus, and reproach
+him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his ingratitude his
+friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not choosing
+to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
+faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the
+ungenerous conduct of his false friend, Proteus.
+
+Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet
+did she still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had
+lately parted with a servant, she contrived, with the assistance
+of her host, the friendly innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus
+as a page; and Proteus knew not she was Julia, and he sent her
+with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia, and he even sent
+by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at Verona.
+
+When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to
+find that Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and
+Julia--or the page Sebastian, as she was called, entered into
+conversation with Silvia about Proteus's first love, the forsaken
+Lady Julia. She putting in (as one may say) a good word for
+herself, said she knew Julia; as well she might, being herself
+the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia loved her
+master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her. And
+then she with a pretty equivocation went on: "Julia is about my
+height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the
+same as mine." And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in
+her boy's attire.
+
+Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly
+forsaken by the man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring
+which Proteus had sent, refused it, saying:
+
+"The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not
+take it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him.
+I love thee, gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a
+purse; I give it you for Julia's sake."
+
+These comfortable words coming from her kind rival's tongue
+cheered the drooping heart of the disguised lady.
+
+But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which
+way to bend his course, being unwilling to return home to his
+father a disgraced and banished man. As he was wandering over a
+lonely forest, not far distant from Milan, where he had left his
+heart's dear treasure, the Lady Silvia, he was set upon by
+robbers, who demanded his money.
+
+Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that
+be was going into banishment, and that he had no money, the
+clothes he had on being all his riches.
+
+The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being
+struck with his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he
+would live with them and be their chief, or captain, they would
+put themselves under his command; but that if he refused to
+accept their offer they would kill him.
+
+Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would
+consent to live with them and be their captain, provided they did
+no outrage on women or poor passengers.
+
+Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read
+in ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in
+this situation he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came
+to pass.
+
+Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted
+upon her no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of
+following Valentine to Mantua, at which place she had heard her
+lover had taken refuge; but in this account she was misinformed,
+for he still lived in the forest among the robbers, hearing the
+name of their captain, but taking no part in their depredations,
+and using the authority which they had imposed upon him in no
+other way than to compel them to show compassion to the travelers
+they robbed.
+
+Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father's palace in
+company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom
+she took along with her for protection on the road. She had to
+pass through the forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt;
+and one of these robbers seized on Silvia, and would also have
+taken Eglamour, but he escaped.
+
+The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in,
+bade her not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her
+to a cave where his captain lived, and that she need not be
+afraid, for their captain had an honorable mind and always showed
+humanity to women. Silvia found little comfort in hearing she was
+going to be carried as a prisoner before the captain of a lawless
+banditti.
+
+"O Valentine," she cried, "this I endure for thee!"
+
+But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he
+was stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the
+disguise of a page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had
+traced her steps to this forest. Proteus now rescued her from the
+hands the robber; but scarce had she time to thank him for the
+service he had done her before be began to distress her afresh
+with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing her to
+consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was
+standing beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the
+great service which Proteus had just done to Silvia should win
+her to show him some favor, they were all strangely surprised
+with the sudden appearance of Valentine, who, having heard his
+robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console and relieve
+her.
+
+Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being
+caught by his friend that he was all at once seized with
+penitence and remorse; and he expressed such a lively sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Valentine that Valentine, whose
+nature was noble and generous, even to a romantic degree, not
+only forgave and restored him to his former place in his
+friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:
+
+"I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
+give it up to you."
+
+Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this
+strange offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this
+new-found virtue to refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all
+employed in recovering her, else would Silvia have been offended
+at being thus made over to Proteus, though she could scarcely
+think that Valentine would long persevere in this overstrained
+and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from the
+fainting fit, she said:
+
+"I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to
+Silvia."
+
+Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave
+to Julia in return for that which he received from her and which
+he had sent by the supposed page to Silvia.
+
+"How is this?" said he. "This is Julia's ring. How came you by
+it, boy?"
+
+Julia answered, "Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
+hath brought it hither."
+
+Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that
+the page Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and
+the proof she had given of her constancy and true love so wrought
+in him that his love for her returned into his heart, and he took
+again his own dear lady and joyfully resigned all pretensions to
+the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had so well deserved her.
+
+Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
+reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when
+they were surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and
+Thurio, who came there in pursuit of Silvia.
+
+Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying,
+"Silvia is mine."
+
+Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner:
+"Thurio, keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours,
+you shall embrace your death. Here she stands, take but
+possession of her with a touch! I dare you but to breathe upon my
+love."
+
+Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back,
+and said he cared not for her and that none but a fool would
+fight for a girl who loved him not.
+
+The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great
+anger, "The more base and degenerate in you to take such means
+for her as you have done and leave her on such slight
+conditions."
+
+Then turning to Valentine he said: "I do applaud your spirit,
+Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress's love. You shall
+have Silvia, for you have well deserved her."
+
+Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke's hand and
+accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter
+with becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute
+to entreat the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom
+he had associated in the forest, assuring him that when reformed
+and restored to society there would be found among them many
+good, and fit for great employment; for the most of them had been
+banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather than for any
+black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the' ready duke
+consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
+friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted
+faults, to be present at the recital of the whole story of his
+loves and falsehoods before the duke. And the shame of the
+recital to his awakened conscience was judged sufficient
+punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four, returned back
+to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence of
+the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.
+
+
+
+MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+Shylock, the Jew, lived at Venice. He was a usurer who had
+amassed an immense fortune by lending money at great interest to
+Christian merchants. Shylock, being a hard-hearted man, exacted
+the payment of the money he lent with such severity that he was
+much disliked by all good men, and particularly by Antonio, a
+young merchant of Venice; and Shylock as much hated Antonio,
+because he used to lend money to people in distress, and would
+never take any interest for the money he lent; therefore there
+was great enmity between this covetous Jew and the generous
+merchant Antonio. Whenever Antonio met Shylock on the Rialto, (or
+Exchange) he used to reproach him with his usuries and hard
+dealings, which the Jew would bear with seeming patience, while
+he secretly meditated revenge.
+
+Antonio was the kindest man that lived, the best conditioned, and
+had the most unwearied spirit in doing courtesies; indeed, he was
+one in whom the ancient Roman honor more appeared than in any
+that drew breath in Italy. He was greatly beloved by all his
+fellow-citizens; but the friend who was nearest and dearest to
+his heart was Bassanio, a noble Venetian, who, having but a small
+patrimony, had nearly exhausted his little fortune by living in
+too expensive a manner for his slender means, at young men of
+high rank with small fortunes are too apt to do. Whenever
+Bassanio wanted money Antonio assisted him; and it seemed as if
+they had but one heart and one purse between them.
+
+One day Bassanio came to Antonio and told him that he wished to
+repair his fortune by a wealthy marriage with a lady whom he
+dearly loved, whose father, that was lately dead, had left her
+sole heiress to a large estate; and that in her father's lifetime
+he used to visit at her house, when he thought he had observed
+this lady had sometimes from her eyes sent speechless messages
+that seemed to say he would be no unwelcome suitor; but not
+having money to furnish himself with an appearance befitting the
+lover of so rich an heiress, he besought Antonio to add to the
+many favors he had shown him by lending him three thousand
+ducats.
+
+Antonio had no money by him at that time to lend his friend; but
+expecting soon to have. some ships come home laden with
+merchandise, he said he would go to Shylock, the rich
+moneylender, and borrow the money upon the credit of those ships.
+
+Antonio and Bassanio went together to Shylock, and Antonio asked
+the Jew to lend him three thousand ducats upon any interest he
+should require, to be paid out of the merchandise contained in
+his ships at sea.
+
+On this, Shylock thought within himself: "If I can once catch him
+on the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He
+hates our Jewish nation; he lends out money gratis; and among the
+merchants he rails at me and my well-earned bargains, which he
+calls interest. Cursed be my tribe if I forgive him!"
+
+Antonio, finding be was musing within himself and did not answer,
+and being impatient for the money, said:
+
+"Shylock, do you hear? Will you lend the money?"
+
+To this question the Jew replied: "Signor Antonio, on the Rialto
+many a time and often you have railed at me about my moneys and
+my usuries, and I have borne it with a patient shrug, for
+sufferance is the badge of all our tribe; and then you have
+called me unbeliever, cutthroat dog, and spit upon my Jewish
+garments, and spurned at me with your foot, as if I was a cur.
+Well, then, it now appears you need my help, and you come to me
+and say, 'Shylock, lend me moneys.' Has a dog money? Is it
+possible a cur should lend three thousand ducats? Shall I bend
+low and say, 'Fair sir, you spit upon me on Wednesday last;
+another time you called me dog, and for these courtesies I am to
+lend you moneys."'
+
+Antonio replied: "I am as like to call you so again, to spit on
+you again, and spurn you, too. If you will lend me this money,
+lend it not to me as to a friend, but rather lend it to me as to
+an enemy, that, if I break, you may with better face exact the
+penalty."
+
+"Why, look you," said Shylock, "how you storm! I would be friends
+with you and have your love. I will forget the shames you have
+put upon me. I will supply your wants and take no interest for my
+money."
+
+This seemingly kind offer greatly surprised Antonio; and then
+Shylock, still pretending kindness and that all he did was to
+gain Antonio's love, again said he would lend him the three
+thousand ducats, and take no interest for his money; only Antonio
+should go with him to a lawyer and there sign in merry sport a
+bond that, if he did not repay the money by a certain day, he
+would forfeit a pound of flesh, to be cut off from any part of
+his body that Shylock pleased.
+
+"Content," said Antonio. "I will sign to this bond, and say there
+is much kindness in the Jew."
+
+Bassanio said Antonio should not sign to such a bond for him; but
+still Antonio insisted that he would sign it, for that before the
+day of payment came his ships would return laden with many times
+the value of the money.
+
+Shylock, hearing this debate, exclaimed: "O Father Abraham, what
+suspicious people these Christians are! Their own hard dealings
+teach them to suspect the thoughts of others. I pray you tell me
+this, Bassanio: if he should break his day, what should I gain by
+the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man's flesh, taken
+from a man, is not so estimable, profitable, neither, as the
+flesh of mutton or beef. I say, to buy his favor I offer this
+friendship: if he will take it, so; if not, adieu."
+
+At last, against the advice of Bassanio, who, notwithstanding all
+the Jew had said of his kind intentions, did not like his friend
+should run the hazard of this shocking penalty for his sake,
+Antonio signed the bond, thinking it really was (as the Jew said)
+merely in sport.
+
+The rich heiress that Bassanio wished to marry lived near Venice,
+at a place called Belmont. Her name was Portia, and in the graces
+of her person and her mind she was nothing inferior to that
+Portia, of whom we read, who was Cato's daughter and the wife of
+Brutus.
+
+Bassanio being so kindly supplied with money by his friend
+Antonio, at the hazard of his life, set out for Belmont with a
+splendid train and attended by a gentleman of the name of
+Gratiano.
+
+Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time
+consented to accept of him for a husband.
+
+Bassanio confessed to Portia that he had no fortune and that his
+high birth and noble ancestry were all that he could boast of;
+she, who loved him for his worthy qualities and had riches enough
+not to regard wealth in a husband, answered, with a graceful
+modesty, that she would wish herself a thousand times more fair,
+and ten thousand times more rich, to be more worthy of him; and
+then the accomplished Portia prettily dispraised herself and said
+she was an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, yet not so
+old but that she could learn, and that she would commit her
+gentle spirit to be directed and governed by him in all things;
+and she said: "Myself and what is mine to you and yours is now
+converted. But yesterday, Bassanio, I was the lady of this fair
+mansion, queen of myself, and mistress over these servants; and
+now this house, these servants, and myself are yours, my lord; I
+give them with this ring," presenting a ring to Bassanio.
+
+Bassanio was so overpowered with gratitude and wonder at the
+gracious manner in which the rich and noble Portia accepted of a
+man of his humble fortunes that he could not express his joy
+
+and reverence to the dear lady who so honored him, by anything
+but broken words of love and thankfulness; and, taking the ring,
+he vowed never to part with it.
+
+Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia's waiting-maid, were in attendance
+upon their lord and lady when Portia so gracefully promised to
+become the obedient wife of Bassanio; and Gratiano, wishing
+Bassanio and the generous lady joy, desired permission to be
+married at the same time.
+
+"With all my heart, Gratiano," said Bassanio, "if you can get a
+wife."
+
+Gratiano then said that he loved the Lady Portia's fair
+waiting-gentlewoman, Nerissa, and that she had promised to be his
+wife if her lady married Bassanio. Portia asked Nerissa if this
+was true. Nerissa replied:
+
+"Madam, it is so, if you approve of it."
+
+Portia willingly consenting, Bassanio pleasantly said:
+
+"Then our wedding-feast shall be much honored by your marriage,
+Gratiano."
+
+The happiness of these lovers was sadly crossed at this moment by
+the entrance of a messenger, who brought a letter from Antonio
+containing fearful tidings. When Bassanio read Antonio's letter,
+Portia feared it was to tell him of the death of some dear
+friend, he looked so pale; and, inquiring what was the news which
+bad so distressed him, he said:
+
+"Oh, sweet Portia, here are a few of the unpleasantest words that
+ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, when I first imparted my love to
+you, I freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins; but
+I should have told you that I had less than nothing, being in
+debt."
+
+Bassanio then told Portia what has been here related, of his
+borrowing the money of Antonio, and of Antonio's procuring it of
+Shylock the Jew, and of the bond by which Antonio had engaged to
+forfeit a pound of flesh if it was not repaid by a certain day:
+and then Bassanio read Antonio's letter, the words of which were:
+
+'Sweet Bassanio, my ships are all lost, my bond to the Jew is
+forfeited, and since in paying it is impossible I should live, I
+could wish, to see you at my death; notwithstanding, use your
+pleasure. If your love for me do not persuade you to come, let
+not my letter.'
+
+"Oh, my dear love," said Portia, "despatch all business and
+begone; you shall have gold to pay the money twenty times over,
+before this kind friend shall lose a hair by my Bassanio's fault;
+and as you are so dearly bought, I will dearly love you."
+
+Portia then said she would be married to Bassanio before he set
+out, to give him a legal right to her money; and that same day
+they were married, and Gratiano was also married to Nerissa; and
+Bassanio and Gratiano, the instant they were married, set out in
+great haste for Venice, where Bassanio found Antonio in prison.
+
+The day of payment being past, the cruel Jew would not accept of
+the money which Bassanio offered him, but insisted upon having a
+pound of Antonio's flesh. A day was appointed to try this
+shocking cause before the Duke of Venice, and Bassanio awaited in
+dreadful suspense the event of the trial.
+
+When Portia parted with her husband she spoke cheeringly to him
+and bade him bring his dear friend along with him when he
+returned; yet she feared it would go hard with Antonio, and when
+she was left alone she began to think and consider within herself
+if she could by any means be instrumental in saving the life of
+her dear Bassanio's friend. And notwithstanding when she wished
+to honor her Bassanio she had said to him, with such a meek and
+wifelike grace, that she would submit in all things to be
+governed by his superior wisdom, yet being now called forth into
+action by the peril of her honored husband's friend, she did
+nothing doubt her own powers, and by the sole guidance of her own
+true and perfect judgment at once resolved to go herself to
+Venice and speak in Antonio's defense.
+
+Portia had a relation who was a counselor in the law; to this
+gentleman, whose name was Bellario, she wrote, and, stating the
+case to him, desired his opinion, and that with his advice he
+would also send her the dress worn by a counselor. When the
+messenger returned he brought letters from Bellario of advice how
+to proceed, and also everything necessary for her equipment.
+
+Portia dressed herself and her maid Nerissa in men's apparel,
+and, putting on the robes of a counselor, she took Nerissa along
+with her as her clerk; setting out immediately, they arrived at
+Venice on the very day of the trial. The cause was just going to
+be heard before the Duke and Senators of Venice in the Senate
+House when Portia entered this high court of justice and
+presented a letter from Bellario, in which that learned counselor
+wrote to the duke, saying he would have come himself to plead for
+Antonio but that he was prevented by sickness, and he requested
+that the learned young Doctor Balthasar (so he called Portia)
+might be permitted to plead in his stead. This the Duke granted,
+much wondering at the youthful appearance of the stranger, who
+was prettily disguised by her counselor's robes and her large
+wig.
+
+And now began this important trial. Portia looked around her and
+she saw the merciless Jew; and she saw Bassanio, but he knew her
+not in her disguise. He was standing beside Antonio, in an agony
+of distress and fear for his friend.
+
+The importance of the arduous task Portia had engaged in gave
+this tender lady courage, and she boldly proceeded in the duty
+she had undertaken to perform. And first of all she addressed
+herself to Shylock; and allowing that he had a right by the
+Venetian law to have the forfeit expressed in the bond, she spoke
+so sweetly of the noble quality of MERCY as would have softened
+any heart but the unfeeling Shylock's, saying that it dropped as
+the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath; and how mercy
+was a double blessing, it blessed him that gave and him that
+received it; and how it became monarchs better than their crowns,
+being an attribute of God Himself; and that earthly power came
+nearest to God's in proportion as mercy tempered justice; and she
+bade Shylock remember that as we all pray for mercy, that same
+prayer should teach us to show mercy. Shylock only answered her
+by desiring to have the penalty forfeited in the bond.
+
+"Is he not able to pay the money?" asked Portia.
+
+Bassanio then offered the Jew the payment of the three thousand
+ducats as many times over as he should desire; which Shylock
+refusing, and still insisting upon having a pound of Antonio's
+flesh, Bassanio begged the learned young counselor would endeavor
+to wrest the law a little, to save Antonio's life. But Portia
+gravely answered that laws once established never be altered.
+Shylock, hearing Portia say that the law might not be altered, it
+seemed to him that she was pleading in his favor, and he said:
+
+"A Daniel is come to judgment! O wise young judge, how I do honor
+you! How much elder are you than your looks!"
+
+Portia now desired Shylock to let her look at the bond; and when
+she had read it she said: "This bond is forfeited, and by this
+the Jew may lawfully claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
+nearest Antonio's heart." Then she said to Shylock, "Be merciful;
+take the money and bid me tear the bond."
+
+But no mercy would the cruel Shylock show; and he said, "By my
+soul, I swear there is no power in the tongue of man to alter
+me."
+
+"Why, then, Antonio," said Portia, "you must prepare your bosom
+for the knife." And while Shylock was sharpening a long knife
+with great eagerness to cut off the pound of flesh, Portia said
+to Antonio, "Have you anything to say?"
+
+Antonio with a calm resignation replied that he had but little to
+say, for that he had prepared his mind for death. Then he said to
+Bassanio:
+
+"Give me your hand, Bassanio! Fare you well! Grieve not that I am
+fallen into this misfortune for you. Commend me to your honorable
+wife and tell her how I have loved you!"
+
+Bassanio in the deepest affliction replied: "Antonio, I am
+married to a wife who is as dear to me as life itself; but life
+itself, my wife, and all the world are not esteemed with me above
+your life. I would lose all, I would sacrifice all to this devil
+here, to deliver you."
+
+Portia hearing this, though the kind-hearted lady was not at all
+offended with her husband for expressing the love he owed to so
+true a friend as Antonio in these strong terms, yet could not
+help answering:
+
+"Your wife would give you little thanks, if she were present, to
+hear you make this offer."
+
+And then Gratiano, who loved to copy what his lord did, thought
+he must make a speech like Bassanio's, and he said, in Nerissa's
+hearing, who was writing in her clerk's dress by the side of
+Portia:
+
+"I have a wife whom I protest I love. I wish she were in heaven
+if she could but entreat some power there to change the cruel
+temper of this currish Jew."
+
+"It is well you wish this behind her back, else you would have
+but an unquiet house," said Nerissa.
+
+Shylock now cried out, impatiently: "We trifle time. I pray
+pronounce the sentence."
+
+And now all was awful expectation in the court, and every heart
+was full of grief for Antonio.
+
+Portia asked if the scales were ready to weigh the flesh; and she
+said to the Jew, "Shylock, you must have some surgeon by, lest he
+bleed to death."
+
+Shylock, whose whole intent was that Antonio should bleed to
+death, said, "It is not so named in the bond."
+
+Portia replied: "It is not so named in the bond, but what of
+that? It were good you did so much for charity."
+
+To this all the answer Shylock would make was, "I cannot find it;
+it is not in the bond."
+
+"Then," said Portia, "a pound of Antonio's flesh is thine. The
+law allows it and the court awards it. And you may cut this flesh
+from off his breast. The law allows it and the court awards it."
+
+Again Shylock exclaimed: "O wise and upright judge! A Daniel is
+come to judgment!" And then he sharpened his long knife again,
+and looking eagerly on Antonio, he said, "Come, prepare!"
+
+"Tarry a little, Jew," said Portia. "There is something else.
+This bond here gives you no drop of blood; the words expressly
+are, 'a pound of flesh.' If in the cutting off the pound of flesh
+you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods are by
+the law to be confiscated to the state of Venice."
+
+Now as it was utterly impossible for Shylock to cut off the pound
+of flesh without shedding some of Antonio's blood, this wise
+discovery of Portia's, that it was flesh and not blood that was
+named in the bond, saved the life of Antonio; and all admiring
+the wonderful sagacity of the young counselor who had so happily
+thought of this expedient, plaudits resounded from every part of
+the Senate House; and Gratiano exclaimed, in the words which
+Shylock had used:
+
+"O wise and upright judge! Mark, Jew, a Daniel is come to
+judgment!"
+
+Shylock, finding himself defeated in his cruel intent, said, with
+a disappointed look, that he would take the money. And Bassanio,
+rejoiced beyond measure at Antonio's unexpected deliverance,
+cried out:
+
+"Here is the money!"
+
+But Portia stopped him, saying: "Softly; there is no haste. The
+Jew shall have nothing but the penalty. Therefore prepare,
+Shylock, to cut off the flesh; but mind you shed no blood; nor do
+not cut off more nor less than just a pound; be it more or less
+by one poor scruple, nay, if the scale turn but by the weight of
+a single hair, you are condemned by the laws of Venice to die,
+and all your wealth is forfeited to the state."
+
+"Give me my money and let me go," said Shylock.
+
+"I have it ready," said Bassanio. "Here it is."
+
+Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped
+him, saying: "Tarry, Jew. I have yet another hold upon you. By
+the laws of Venice your wealth is forfeited to the state for
+having conspired against the life of one of its citizens, and
+your life lies at the mercy of the duke; therefore, down on your
+knees and ask him to pardon you."
+
+The duke then said to Shylock: "That you may see the difference
+of our Christian spirit, I pardon you your life before you ask
+it. Half your wealth belongs to Antonio, the other half comes to
+the state."
+
+The generous Antonio then said that he would give up his share of
+Shylock's wealth if Shylock would sign a deed to make it over at
+his death to his daughter and her husband; for Antonio knew that
+the Jew had an only daughter who had lately married against his
+consent a young Christian named Lorenzo, a friend of Antonio's,
+which had so offended Shylock that he had disinherited her.
+
+The Jew agreed to this; and being thus disappointed in his
+revenge and despoiled of his riches, he said: "I am ill. Let me
+go home. Send the deed after me, and I will sign over half my
+riches to my daughter."
+
+"Get thee gone, then," said the duke, "and sign it; and if you
+repent your cruelty and turn Christian, the state will forgive
+you the fine of the other half of your riches."
+
+The duke now released Antonio and dismissed the court. He then
+highly praised the wisdom and ingenuity of the young counselor
+and invited him home to dinner.
+
+Portia, who meant to return to Belmont before her husband,
+replied, "I humbly thank your Grace, but I must away directly."
+
+The duke said he was sorry he had not leisure to stay and dine
+with him, and, turning to Antonio, he added, "Reward this
+gentleman; for in my mind you are much indebted to him."
+
+The duke and his senators left the court; and then Bassanio said
+to Portia: "Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Antonio have
+by your wisdom been this day acquitted of grievous penalties, and
+I beg you will accept of the three thousand ducats due unto the
+Jew."
+
+"And we shall stand indebted to you over and above," said
+Antonio, "in love and service evermore."
+
+Portia could not be prevailed upon to accept the money. But upon
+Bassanio still pressing her to accept of some reward, she said:
+
+"Give me your gloves. I will wear them for your sake." And then
+Bassanio taking off his gloves, she espied the ring which she had
+given him upon his finger. Now it was the ring the wily lady
+wanted to get from him to make a merry jest when she saw her
+Bassanio again, that made her ask him for his gloves; and she
+said, when she saw the ring, "And for your love, I will take this
+ring from you."
+
+Bassanio was sadly distressed that the counselor should ask him
+for the only thing he could not part with, and he replied, in
+great confusion, that be could not give him that ring, because it
+was his wife's gift and he had vowed never to part with it; but
+that he would give him the most valuable ring in Venice, and find
+it out by proclamation.
+
+On this Portia affected to be affronted, and left the court,
+saying, "You teach me, sir, how a beggar should be answered."
+
+"Dear Bassanio," said Antonio, "let him have the ring. Let My
+love and the great service he has done for me be valued against
+your wife's displeasure."
+
+ Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful, yielded, and sent
+Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the "clerk"
+Nerissa, who had also given Gratiano a ring, begged his ring, and
+Gratiano (not choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord)
+gave it to her. And there was laughing among these ladies to
+think, when they got home, how they would tax their husbands with
+giving away their rings and swear that they had given them as a
+present to some woman.
+
+Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which
+never fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a
+good action. Her cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw: the
+moon never seemed to shine so bright before; and when that
+pleasant moon was hid behind a cloud, then a light which she saw
+from her house at Belmont as well pleased her charmed fancy, and
+she said to Nerissa:
+
+"That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little
+candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty
+world." And hearing the sound of music from her house, she said,
+"Methinks that music sounds much sweeter than by day."
+
+And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and, dressing
+themselves in their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of
+their husbands, who soon followed them with Antonio; and Bassanio
+presenting his dear friend to the Lady Portia, the
+congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly over when
+they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarreling in a corner of
+the room.
+
+"A quarrel already?" said Portia. "What is the matter?"
+
+Gratiano replied, "Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that
+Nerissa gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler's
+knife: 'Love me, and leave me not.'"
+
+"What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?" said
+Nerissa. "You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would
+keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to
+the lawyer's clerk. I know you gave it to a woman."
+
+"By this hand," replied Gratiano, "I gave it to a youth, a kind
+Of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; be was
+clerk to the young counselor that by his wise pleading saved
+Antonio's life. This prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could
+not for my life deny him."
+
+Portia said: "You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your
+wife's first gift. I gave my Lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure
+be would not part with it for all the world."
+
+Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, "My Lord Bassanio
+gave his ring away to the counselor, and then the boy, his clerk,
+that took some pains in writing, he begged my ring."
+
+Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry and reproached Bassanio
+for giving away her ring; and she said Nerissa had taught her
+what to believe, and that she knew some woman had the ring.
+Bassanio was very unhappy to have so offended his dear lady, and
+he said with great earnestness:
+
+"No, by my honor, no woman had it, but a civil doctor who refused
+three thousand ducats of me and begged the ring, which when I
+denied him he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet
+Portia? I was so beset with shame for my seeming ingratitude that
+I was forced to send the ring after him. Pardon me, good lady.
+Had you been there, I think you would have begged the ring of me
+to give the worthy doctor."
+
+"Ah!" said Antonio, "I am the unhappy cause of these quarrels."
+
+Portia bid Antonio not to grieve at that, for that be was welcome
+notwithstanding; and then Antonio said:
+
+"I once did lend my body for Bassanio's sake; and but for him to
+whom your husband gave the ring I should have now been dead. I
+dare be bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will
+never more break his faith with you."
+
+"Then you shall be his surety," said Portia. "Give him this ring
+and bid him keep it better than the other."
+
+When Bassanio looked at this ring be was strangely surprised to
+find it was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him how
+she was the young counselor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and
+Bassanio found, to his unspeakable wonder and delight, that it
+was by the noble courage and wisdom of his wife that Antonio's
+life was saved.
+
+And Portia again welcomed Antonio, and gave him letters which by
+some chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account
+of Antonio's ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived
+in the harbor. So these tragical beginnings of this rich
+merchant's story were all forgotten in the unexpected good
+fortune which ensued; and there was leisure to laugh at the
+comical adventure of the rings and the husbands that did not know
+their own wives, Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of rhyming
+speech, that--
+
+    While he lived, he'd fear no other thing
+    So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.
+
+
+
+CYMBELINE
+
+During the time of Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, there
+reigned in England (which was then called Britain) a king whose
+name was Cymbeline.
+
+Cymbeline's first wife died when his three children (two sons and
+a daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest of these
+children, was brought up in her father's court; but by a strange
+chance the two sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery
+when the eldest was but three years of age and the youngest quite
+an infant; and Cymbeline could never discover what was become of
+them or by whom they were conveyed away.
+
+Cymbeline was twice married. His second wife was a wicked,
+plotting woman, and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline's
+daughter by his first wife.
+
+The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son
+of her own by a former husband (she also having been twice
+married), for by this means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline
+to place the crown of Britain upon the head of her son Cloten;
+for she knew that, if the king's sons were not found, the
+Princess Imogen must be the king's heir. But this design was
+prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the consent or
+even knowledge of her father or the queen.
+
+Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen's husband) was the
+best scholar and most accomplished gentleman of that age. His
+father died fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after
+his birth his mother died also for grief at the loss of her
+husband.
+
+Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan, took
+Posthumus (Cymbeline having given him that name because he was
+born after his father's death), and educated him in his own
+court.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and
+were playfellows from their infancy; they loved each other
+tenderly when they were children, and, their affection continuing
+to increase with their years, when they grew up they privately
+married.
+
+The disappointed queen soon learned this secret, for she kept
+spies constantly in watch upon the actions of her stepdaughter,
+and she immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with
+Posthumus.
+
+Nothing could exceed the wrath of Cymbeline when he heard that
+his daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to
+marry a subject. He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain and
+banished him from his native country forever.
+
+The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she
+suffered at losing her husband, offered to procure them a private
+meeting before Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which
+place he had chosen for his residence in his banishment. This
+seeming kindness she showed the better to succeed in her future
+designs in regard to her son Cloten, for she meant to persuade
+Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage was not
+lawful, being contracted without the consent of the king.
+
+Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each
+other. Imogen gave her husband a diamond ring which had been her
+mother's, and Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and
+he fastened a bracelet on the arm of his wife, which he begged
+she would preserve with great care, as a token of his love; they
+then bade each other farewell, with many vows of everlasting love
+and fidelity.
+
+Imogen remained a solitary and dejected lady in her father's
+court, and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for
+his banishment.
+
+Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of
+different nations, who were talking freely of ladies, each one
+praising the ladies of his own country and his own mistress.
+Posthumus, who had ever his own dear lady in his mind, affirmed
+that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the most virtuous, wise, and
+constant lady in the world.
+
+One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended
+that a lady of Britain should be so praised above the Roman
+ladies, his country-women, provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt
+the constancy of his so highly praised wife; and at length, after
+much altercation, Posthumus consented to a proposal of Iachimo's
+that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain and endeavor to gain the
+love of the married Imogen. They then laid a wager that if
+Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design he was to forfeit a
+large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen's favor, and
+prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so
+earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the
+wager was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring
+which was Imogen's love present when she parted with her husband.
+Such firm faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen that he
+thought he ran no hazard in this trial of her honor.
+
+Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance and a
+courteous welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but
+when he began to make professions of love to her she repulsed him
+with disdain, and he soon found that he could have no hope of
+succeeding in his dishonorable design.
+
+The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have
+recourse to a stratagem to impose upon Posthumus, and for this
+purpose he bribed some of Imogen's attendants and was by them
+conveyed into her bedchamber, concealed in a large trunk, where
+he remained shut up till Imogen.was retired to rest and had
+fallen asleep; and then, getting out of the trunk, he examined
+the chamber with great attention, and wrote down everything he
+saw there, and particularly noticed a mole which he observed upon
+Imogen's neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her
+arm, which Posthumus had given to her, he retired into the chest
+again; and the next day he set off for Rome with great
+expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen had given him
+the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in her
+chamber. And in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: "Her
+bedchamber," said he, "was hung with tapestry of silk and silver,
+the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a
+piece of work most bravely wrought."
+
+"This is true," said Posthumus; "but this you might have heard
+spoken of without seeing."
+
+"Then the chimney," said Iachimo, "is south of the chamber, and
+the chimneypiece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures livelier
+expressed." "This is a thing you might have likewise heard," said
+Posthumus; "for it is much talked of."
+
+Iachimo as accurately described the roof of the chamber; and
+added, "I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking
+Cupids made of silver, each on one foot standing.'" He then took
+out the bracelet, and said: "Know you this jewel, sir? She gave
+me this. She took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty
+action did outsell her gift, and yet enriched it, too. She gave
+it me, and said, SHE PRIZED IT ONCE." He last of all described
+the mole he had observed upon her neck.
+
+Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital in an
+agony of doubt, now broke out into the most passionate
+exclamations against Imogen. He delivered up the diamond ring to
+Iachimo which he had agreed to forfeit to him if he obtained the
+bracelet from Imogen.
+
+Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of
+Britain, who was one of Imogen's attendants, and had long been a
+faithful friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he
+had of his wife's disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take
+Imogen to Milford Haven, a seaport of Wales, and there kill her.
+And at the same time he wrote a deceitful letter to Imogen,
+desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that, finding he could live
+no longer without seeing her, though he was forbidden upon pain
+of death to return to Britain, he would come to Milford Haven, at
+which place he begged she would meet him. She, good, unsuspecting
+lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired more
+than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio,
+and the same night she received the letter she set out.
+
+When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though
+faithful to Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil
+deed, disclosed to Imogen the cruel order he had received.
+
+Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband,
+found herself doomed by that husband to suffer death, was
+afflicted beyond measure.
+
+Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort and wait with patient
+fortitude for the time when Posthumus should see and repent his
+injustice. In the mean time, as she refused in her distress to
+return to her father's court, he advised her to dress herself in
+boy's clothes for more security in traveling; to which advice she
+agreed, and thought in that disguise she would go over to Rome
+and see her husband, whom, though he had used her so barbarously,
+she could no-t forget to love.
+
+When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel he left her to
+her uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but
+before he departed he gave her a vial of cordial, which he said
+the queen had given him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders.
+
+The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen
+and Posthumus, gave him this vial, which she supposed contained
+poison, she having ordered her physician to give her some poison,
+to try its effects (as she said) upon animals; but the physician,
+knowing her malicious disposition, would not trust her with real
+poison, but gave her a drug which would do no other mischief than
+causing a person to sleep with every appearance of death for a
+few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a choice cordial,
+he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill upon
+the road, to take it; and so, with blessings and prayers for her
+safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he
+left her.
+
+Providence strangely directed Imogen's steps to the dwelling of
+her two brothers who had been stolen away in their infancy.
+Bellarius, who stole them away, was a lord in the court of
+Cymbeline, and, having been falsely accused to the king of
+treason and banished from the court, in revenge he stole away the
+two sons of Cymbeline and brought them up in a forest, where he
+lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge, but he
+soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children,
+educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their
+princely spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as
+they subsisted by hunting, they were active and hardy, and were
+always pressing their supposed father to let them seek their
+fortune in the wars.
+
+At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen's fortune to
+arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest through which .her
+road lay to Milford Haven (from which she meant to embark for
+Rome); and being unable to find any place where she could
+purchase food, she was, with weariness and hunger, almost dying;
+for it is not merely putting on a man's apparel that will enable
+a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the fatigue of
+wandering about lonely forests like a man.. Seeing this cave, she
+entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure
+food. She found the cave empty, but, looking about, she
+discovered some cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing that
+she could not wait for an invitation, but sat down and began to
+eat.
+
+"Ah," said she, talking to herself, "I see a man's life is a
+tedious one. How tired am I! For two nights together I have made
+the ground my bed. My resolution helps me, or I should be sick.
+When Pisanio showed me Milford Haven from the mountain-top, how
+near it seemed!" Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel
+mandate came across her, and she said, "My dear Posthumus, thou
+art a false one!"
+
+The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their
+reputed father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home.
+Bellarius had given them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and
+they knew no better, but supposed that Bellarius was their
+father; but the real names of these princes were Guiderius and
+Arviragus.
+
+Bellarius entered the cave first, and, seeing Imogen, stopped
+them, saying: " Come not in yet. It eats our victuals, or I
+should think it was a fairy."
+
+"What is the matter, sir?" said the young men.
+
+"By Jupiter!" said Bellarius, again, "there is an angel in the
+cave, or if not, an earthly paragon." So beautiful did Imogen
+look in her boy's apparel.
+
+She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave and
+addressed them in these words: "Good masters, do not harm me.
+Before I entered your cave I had thought to have begged or bought
+what I have eaten. Indeed, I have stolen nothing, nor would I,
+though I had found gold strewed on the floor. Here is money for
+my meat, which I would have left on the board when I had made my
+meal, and parted with prayers for the provider."
+
+They refused her money with great earnestness.
+
+"I see you are angry with me," said the timid Imogen; "but, sirs,
+if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I
+had not made it."
+
+"Whither are you bound," asked Bellarius, "and what is your
+name?"
+
+"Fidele is my name," answered Imogen. "I have a kinsman who is
+bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford Haven, to whom being
+going, almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offense."
+
+"Prithee, fair youth," said old Bellarius, "do not think us
+churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in.
+'You are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have
+better cheer before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.
+Boys, bid him welcome."
+
+The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their
+cave with many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or,
+as they said, HIM) as a brother; and they entered the cave, where
+(they having killed venison when they were hunting) Imogen
+delighted them with her neat housewifery, assisting them in
+preparing their supper; for, though it is not the custom now for
+young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and
+Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily
+expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced
+their broth, as if Juno had been sick and Fidele were her dieter.
+
+"And then," said Polydore to his brother, "how angel-like he
+sings!"
+
+They also remarked to each other that though Fidele smiled so
+sweetly, yet so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face,
+as if grief and patience had together taken possession of him.
+
+For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near
+relationship, though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys
+called her, Fidele) became the doting-piece of her brothers, and
+she scarcely less loved them, thinking that but for the memory of
+her dear Posthumus she could live and die in the cave with these
+wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to stay with them
+till she was enough rested from the fatigue of traveling to
+pursue her way to Milford Haven.
+
+When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going
+out to hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she
+was unwell. Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband's
+
+cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest,
+was the cause of her illness.
+
+They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all
+the way the noble parts and graceful demeanor of the youth
+Fidele.
+
+Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected the cordial
+Pisanio had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into
+a sound and deathlike sleep.
+
+When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore
+went first into the cave, and, supposing her asleep, pulled off
+his heavy shoes, that he might tread softly and not awake her (so
+did true gentleness spring up in the minds of these princely
+foresters); but he soon discovered that she could not be awakened
+by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and Polydore lamented
+over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had never
+from their infancy been parted.
+
+Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and
+there celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges, as was
+then the custom.
+
+Imogen's two brothers then carried her to a shady covert, and
+there, laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose to her
+departed spirit, and, covering her over with leaves and flowers,
+Polydore said:
+
+"While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew
+thy grave. The pale primrose, that flower most like thy face; the
+bluebell, like thy clear veins; and the leaf of eglantine, which
+is not sweeter than was thy breath-all these will I strew over
+thee. Yea, and the furred moss in winter, when there are no
+flowers to cover thy sweet corse."
+
+When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed, very
+sorrowful.
+
+Imogen had not been long left alone when, the effect of the
+sleepy drug going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the
+slight covering of leaves and flowers they had thrown over her,
+she arose, and, imagining she had been dreaming, she said:
+
+"I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. How
+came I here covered with flowers?"
+
+Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing
+nothing of her new companions, she concluded it was certainly all
+a dream; and once more Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage,
+hoping at last she should find her way to Milford Haven, and
+thence get a passage in some ship bound for Italy; for all her
+thoughts were still with her husband, Posthumus, whom she
+intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
+
+But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen
+knew nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman
+Emperor Augustus Caesar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a
+Roman army had landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into
+the very forest over which Imogen was journeying. With this army
+came Posthumus.
+
+Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army, he did
+not mean to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but
+intended to join the army of Britain and fight in the cause of
+his king who had banished him.
+
+He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he
+had so fondly loved, and by his own orders, too (Pisanio having
+written him a letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that
+Imogen was dead), sat heavy on his heart, and therefore he
+returned to Britain, desiring either to be slain in battle or to
+be put to death by Cymbeline for returning home from banishment.
+
+Imogen, before she reached Milford Haven, fell into the hands of
+the Roman army, and, her presence and deportment recommending
+her, she was made a page to Lucius, the Roman general.
+
+Cymbeline's army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they
+entered this forest Polydore and Cadwal joined the king's army.
+The young men were eager to engage in acts of valor, though they
+little thought they were going to fight for their own royal
+father; and old Bellarius went with them to the battle.
+
+He had long since repented of the injury he had done to Cymbeline
+in carrying away his sons; and, having been a warrior in his
+youth, he gladly joined the army to fight for the king he had so
+injured.
+
+And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the
+Britons would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed,
+but for the extraordinary valor of Posthumus and Bellarius and
+the two sons of Cymbeline. They rescued the king and saved his
+life, and so entirely turned the fortune of the day that the
+Britons gained the victory.
+
+When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death
+he sought for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of
+Cymbeline, willing to suffer the death which was to be his
+punishment if he returned from banishment.
+
+Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners and brought
+before Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy, Iachimo, who was an
+officer in the Roman army. And when these prisoners were before
+the king, Posthumus was brought in to receive his sentence of
+death; and at this strange juncture of time Bellarius with
+Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before Cymbeline, to
+receive the rewards due to the great services they had by their
+valor done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king's
+attendants, was likewise present.
+
+Therefore there were now standing in the king's presence (but
+with very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with
+her new master the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio
+and the false friend Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of
+Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who had stolen them away.
+
+The Roman general was the first who spoke; the rest stood silent
+before the king, though there was many a beating heart among
+them.
+
+Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise
+of a peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire. And she
+knew Iachimo, and she saw a ring on his finger which she
+perceived to be her own., but she did not know him as yet to have
+been the author of all her troubles; and she stood before her own
+father a prisoner of war.
+
+Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the
+garb of a boy. "It is my mistress," thought he. "Since she is
+living, let the time run on to good or bad." Bellarius knew her,
+too, and softly said to Cadwal, "Is not this boy revived from
+death?"
+
+"One sand," replied Cadwal, "does not more resemble another than
+that sweet, rosy lad is like the dead Fidele."
+
+"The same dead thing alive," said Polydore.
+
+"Peace, peace," said Bellarius. "If it were he, I am sure be
+would have spoken to us."
+
+"But we saw him dead,", again whispered Polydore.
+
+"Be silent," replied Bellarius.
+
+Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his
+own death; and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he
+had saved his life in the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline
+to pardon him.
+
+Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his
+protection as his page, was the first (as has been before said)
+who spoke to the king. He was a man of high courage and noble and
+this was his speech to the king:
+
+"I hear you take no ransom for your prisoners, but doom them all
+to death. I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer,
+death. But there is one thing for which I would entreat." Then
+bringing Imogen before the king, he said: "This boy is a Briton
+born. Let him be ransomed. He is my page. Never master had a page
+so kind, so duteous, so diligent on all occasions, so true, so
+nurselike. He hath done no Briton wrong, though he hath served a
+Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside."
+
+Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her
+not in that disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature
+spake in his heart, for he said: "I have surely seen him; his
+face appears familiar to me. I know not why or wherefore I say,
+live, boy, but I give you your life; and ask of me what boon you
+will and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it be the life of
+the noblest prisoner I have."
+
+"I humbly thank your Highness," said Imogen.
+
+What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to
+give any one thing, whatever it might be,. that the person on
+whom that favor was conferred chose to ask for.
+
+They all were attentive to hear what thing the page would ask
+for; and Lucius, her master, said to her:
+
+"I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will
+ask for."
+
+"No, no, alas!" said Imogen. "I have other work in hand, good
+master. Your life I cannot ask for."
+
+This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman
+general.
+
+Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon
+than this: that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had
+the ring he wore on his finger.
+
+Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the
+torture if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on
+his finger.
+
+Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villainy, in
+telling, as has been before related, the whole story of his wager
+with Posthumus and how he had succeeded in imposing upon is
+credulity.
+
+What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence of his
+lady cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward and confessed
+to Cymbeline the cruel sentence which he had enjoined Pisanio to
+execute upon the princess, exclaiming, wildly:
+
+"O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!"
+
+Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without
+discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was
+thus relieved from a weight of guilt and woe, and restored to the
+good graces of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
+
+Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding
+his lost daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her
+former place in his fatherly affection, and not only gave her
+husband Posthumus his life, but consented to acknowledge him for
+his son-in-law.
+
+Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation to make his
+confession. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling
+him they were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
+
+Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of
+punishments at a season of such universal happiness? To find his
+daughter living, and his lost sons in the persons of his young
+deliverers, that he had seen so bravely fight in his defense, was
+unlooked-for joy indeed!
+
+Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late
+master, the Roman general, Lucius, whose life the king, her
+father, readily granted at her request; and by the mediation of
+the same Lucius a peace was concluded between the Romans and the
+Britons which was kept inviolate many years.
+
+How Cymbeline's wicked queen, through despair of bringing her
+projects to pass, and touched with remorse of conscience,
+sickened and died, having first lived to see her foolish son
+Cloten slain in a quarrel which he had provoked, are events too
+tragical to interrupt this happy conclusion by more than merely
+touching upon. It is sufficient that all were made happy who were
+deserving; and even the treacherous Iachimo, in consideration of
+his villainy having missed its final aim, was dismissed without
+punishment.
+
+
+
+KING LEAR
+
+Lear, King of Britain, had three daughters: Goneril, wife to the
+Duke of Albany; Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall; and
+Cordelia, a young maid, for whose love the King of France and
+Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors, and were at this time making
+stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
+
+The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government,
+he being more than fourscore years old, determined to take no
+further part in state affairs, but to leave the management to
+younger strengths, that he might have time to prepare for death,
+which must at no long period ensue. With this intent he called
+his three daughters to him, to know from their own lips which of
+them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among them in
+such proportions as their affection for him should seem to
+deserve.
+
+Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than
+words could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of
+her own eyes, dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such
+professing stuff, which is easy to counterfeit where there is no
+real love, only a few fine words delivered with confidence being
+wanted in that case. The king, delighted to hear from her own
+mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly that her
+heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon
+her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
+
+Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had
+to say. Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her
+sister, was not a whit behind in her professions, but rather
+declared that what her sister had spoken came short of the love
+which she professed to bear for his Highness; in so much that she
+found all other joys dead in comparison with the pleasure which
+she took in the love of her dear king and father.
+
+Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he
+thought; and could do no less, after the handsome assurances
+which Regan had made, than bestow a third of his kingdom upon her
+and her husband, equal in size to that which he had already
+given away to Goneril.
+
+Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called
+his joy, he asked what she had to say,thinking no doubt that she
+would glad his ears with the same loving speeches which her
+sisters had uttered, or rather that her expressions would be so
+much stronger than theirs, as she had always been his darling,
+and favored by him above either of them. But Cordelia, disgusted
+with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she knew were far
+from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches were
+only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that
+they and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no
+other reply but this--that she loved his Majesty according to her
+duty, neither more nor less.
+
+The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his
+favorite child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her
+speech, lest it should mar her fortunes.
+
+Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had
+given her breeding, and loved her; that she returned those duties
+back as was most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor
+him. But that she could not frame her mouth to such large
+speeches as her sisters had done, or promise to love nothing else
+in the world. Why had her sisters husbands if (as they said) they
+had no love for anything but their father? If she should ever
+wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would
+want half her love, half of her care and duty; she should never
+marry like her sisters, to love her father all.
+
+Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost
+extravagantly as her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly
+told him so at any other time, in more daughter-like and loving
+terms, and without these qualifications, which did indeed sound a
+little ungracious; but after the crafty, flattering speeches of
+her sisters, which she had seen draw such extravagant rewards,
+she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to love and be
+silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary
+ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain; and that her
+professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the
+more of truth and sincerity than her sisters'.
+
+This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the
+old monarch--who in his best of times always showed much of
+spleen and rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age
+had so clouded over his reason that he could not discern truth
+from flattery, nor a gaypainted speech from words that came from
+the heart--that in a fury of resentment he retracted the third
+part of his kingdom which yet remained, and which he had reserved
+for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing it equally
+between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany
+and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all
+his courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them
+jointly with all the power, revenue, and execution of government,
+only retaining to himself the name of king; all the rest of
+royalty he resigned, with this reservation, that himself, with a
+hundred knights for his attendants, was to be maintained by
+monthly course in each of his daughters' palaces in turn.
+
+So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by
+reason, and so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with
+astonishment and sorrow; but none of them had the courage to
+interpose between this incensed king and his wrath, except the
+Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good word for
+Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him
+to desist; but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had
+been ever loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as
+a father, followed as a master; and he had never esteemed his
+life further than as a pawn to wage against his royal master's
+enemies, nor feared to lose it when Lear's safety was the motive;
+nor, now that Lear was most his own enemy, did this faithful
+servant of the king forget his old principles, but manfully
+opposed Lear to do Lear good; and was unmannerly only because
+Lear was mad. He had been a most faithful counselor in times past
+to the king, and he besought him now that he would see with his
+eyes (as he had done in many weighty matters) and go by his
+advice still, and in his best consideration recall this hideous
+rashness; for he would answer with his life his judgment that
+Lear's youngest daughter did not love him least, nor were those
+empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of hollowness. When
+power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness. For Lear's
+threats, what could he do to him whose life was already at his
+service? That should not hinder duty from speaking.
+
+The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the
+king's wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his
+physician and loves his mortal disease, he banished this true
+servant, and allotted him but five days to make his preparations
+for departure; but if on the sixth his hated person was found
+within the realm of Britain, that moment was to be his death. And
+Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he chose to
+show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay
+there; and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the
+protection of the gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and
+so discreetly spoken; and only wished that her sisters' large
+speeches might be answered with deeds of love; and then he went,
+as he said, to shape his old course to a new country.
+
+The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to
+hear the determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and
+to know whether they would persist in their courtship to
+Cordelia, now that she was under her father's displeasure and had
+no fortune but her own person to recommend her. And the Duke of
+Burgundy declined the match, and would not take her to wife upon
+such conditions. But the King of France, understanding what the
+nature of the fault had been which had lost her the love of her
+father--that it was only a tardiness of speech and the not being
+able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters--took this
+young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry
+above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters
+and of her father, though he had been unkind, and she should go
+with him and be Queen of him and of fair France, and reign over
+fairer possessions than her sisters. And he called the Duke of
+Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke, because his love for this
+young maid had in a moment run all away like water.
+
+Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and
+besought them to love their father well and make good their
+professions; and they sullenly told her not to prescribe to them,
+for they knew their duty, but to strive to content her husband,
+who had taken her (as they tauntingly expressed it) as Fortune's
+alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart departed, for she knew the
+cunning of her sisters and she wished her father in better hands
+than she was about to leave him in.
+
+Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her
+sisters began to show themselves 'in their true colors. Even
+before the expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend
+by agreement ,with his , daughter, Goneril, the old king began to
+find out the difference between promises and performances. This
+wretch, having got from her father all that he had to bestow,
+even to the giving away of the crown from off his head, began to
+grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the old man had
+reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of being
+still a king. She could not bear to see him and his knights.
+Every time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance;
+and when the old man wanted to speak with her she would feign
+sickness or anything to get rid of the sight of him, for it was
+plain that she esteemed his old age a useless burden and his
+attendants an unnecessary expense; not only she herself slackened
+in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her example, and
+(it is to be feared) not without her private instructions, her
+very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would
+either refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously
+pretend not to hear them. Lear could not but perceive this
+alteration in the behavior of his daughter, but he shut his eyes
+against it as long as he could, as people commonly are unwilling
+to believe the unpleasant consequences which their own mistakes
+and obstinacy have brought upon them.
+
+True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than
+falsehood and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by GOOD,
+USAGE. This eminently appears in the instance of the good Earl of
+Kent, who, though banished by Lear, and his life made forfeit if
+he were found in Britain, chose to stay and abide all
+consequences as long as there was a chance of his being useful to
+the king his master. See to what mean shifts and disguises poor
+loyalty is forced to submit sometimes; yet it counts nothing base
+or unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an
+obligation! In the disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness
+and pomp laid aside, this good earl proffered his services to the
+king, who, not knowing him to be Kent in that disguise, but
+pleased with a certain plainness, or rather bluntness, in his
+answers, which the earl put on (so different from that smooth,
+oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having
+found the effects not answerable in his daughter), a bargain was
+quickly struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name
+of Caius, as he called himself, never suspecting him to be his
+once great favorite, the high and mighty Earl of Kent.
+
+This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to
+his royal master, for, Goneril's steward that same day behaving
+in a disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and
+language, as no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his
+mistress, Caius, not enduring to hear so open an affront put upon
+his Majesty, made no more ado, but presently tripped up his heels
+and laid the unmannerly slave in the kennel; for which friendly
+service Lear became more and more attached to him.
+
+Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far
+as so insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor
+fool, or jester, that had been of his palace while Lear had a
+palace, as it was the custom of kings and great personages at
+that time to keep a fool (as he was called) to make them sport
+after serious business--this poor fool clung to Lear after he had
+given away his crown, and by his witty sayings would keep up his
+good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from jeering at
+his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving
+all away to his daughters; at which time, as he rhymingly
+expressed it, these daughters--
+
+   "For sudden joy did weep,
+       And I for sorrow sung,
+   That such a king should play bo-peep
+       And go the fools among."
+
+And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had
+plenty, this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in
+the presence of Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest
+which cut to the quick, such as comparing the king to the
+hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the cuckoo till they grow
+old enough, and then has its head bit off for its pains; and
+saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse
+(meaning that Lear's daughters, that ought to go behind, now
+ranked before their father); and that Lear was no longer Lear,
+but the shadow of Lear. For which free speeches he was once or
+twice threatened to be whipped.
+
+The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to
+perceive were not all which this foolish fond father was to
+suffer from his unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that
+his staying in her palace was inconvenient so long as he insisted
+upon keeping up an establishment of a hundred knights; that this
+establishment was useless and expensive and only served to fill
+her court with riot and feasting; and she prayed him that he
+would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him,
+such as himself, and fitting his age.
+
+Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was
+his daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she
+who had received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train
+and grudge him the respect due to his old age. But she persisting
+in her undutiful demand, the old man's rage was so excited that
+he called her a detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth;
+and so indeed she did, for the hundred knights were all men of
+choice behavior and sobriety of manners, skilled in all
+particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or feasting, as she
+said. And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would go to
+his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights; and he
+spoke of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and
+showed more hideous in a child than the sea-monster. And he
+cursed his eldest daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear,
+praying that she might never have a child, or, if she had, that
+it might live to return that scorn and contempt upon her which
+she had shown to him; that she might feel how sharper than a
+serpent's tooth it was to have a thankless child. And Goneril's
+husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to excuse himself for any
+share which Lear might suppose he had in the unkindness, Lear
+would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses to be
+saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan,
+his other daughter. And Lear thought to himself how small the
+fault of Cordelia (if it was a fault) now appeared in comparison
+with her sister's, and he wept; and then he was ashamed that such
+a creature as Goneril should have so much power over his manhood
+as to make him weep.
+
+Regan and her husband were keeping their court in great pomp and
+state at their palace; and Lear despatched his servant Caius with
+letters to his daughter, that she might be prepared for his
+reception, while he and his train followed after. But it seems
+that Goneril had been beforehand with him, sending letters also
+to Regan, accusing her father of waywardness and ill-humors, and
+advising her not to receive so great a train as he was bringing
+with him. This messenger arrived at the same time with Caius, and
+Caius and he met, and who should it be but Caius's old enemy the
+steward, whom he had formerly tripped up by the heels for his
+saucy behavior to Lear. Caius not liking the fellow's look, and,
+suspecting what he came for, began to revile him and challenged
+him to fight, which the fellow refusing, Caius, in a fit of
+honest passion, beat him soundly, as such a mischief-maker and
+carrier of wicked messages deserved; which coming to the ears of
+Regan and her husband, they ordered Caius to be put in the
+stocks, though he was a messenger from the king her father and in
+that character demanded the highest respect. So that the first
+thing the king saw when he entered the castle was his faithful
+servant Caius sitting in that disgraceful situation.
+
+This was but a bad omen of the reception which he was to expect;
+but a worse followed when, upon inquiry for his daughter and her
+husband, he was told they were weary with traveling all night and
+could not see him; and when, lastly, upon his insisting in a
+positive and angry manner to see them, they came to greet him,
+whom should he see in their company but the hated Goneril, who
+had come to tell her own story and set her sister against the
+king her father!
+
+This sight much moved the old man, and still more to see Regan
+take her by the hand; and he asked Goneril if she was not ashamed
+to look upon his old white beard. And Regan advised him to go
+home again with Goneril, and live with her peaceably, dismissing
+half of his attendants, and to ask her forgiveness; for he was
+old and wanted discretion, and must be ruled and led by persons
+that had more discretion than himself. And Lear showed how
+preposterous that would sound, if he were to go down on his knees
+and beg of his own daughter for food and raiment; and he argued
+against such an unnatural dependence, declaring his resolution
+never to return with her, but to stay where he was with Regan, he
+and his hundred knights; for he said that she had not forgot the
+half of the kingdom which he had endowed her with, and that her
+eyes were not fierce like Goneril's, but mild and kind. And he
+said that rather than return to Goneril, with half his train cut
+off, he would go over to France and beg a wretched pension of the
+king there, who had married his youngest daughter without a
+portion.
+
+But he was mistaken in expecting kinder treatment of Regan than
+he had experienced from her sister Goneril. As if willing to
+outdo her sister in unfilial behavior, she declared that she
+thought fifty knights too many to wait upon him; that
+five-and-twenty were enough. Then Lear, nigh heartbroken, turned
+to Goneril and said that he would go back with her, for her fifty
+doubled five-and-twenty, and so her love was twice as much as
+Regan's. But Goneril excused herself, and said, what need of so
+many as five-and twenty? or even ten? or five? when he might be
+waited upon by her servants or her sister's servants? So these
+two wicked daughters, as if they strove to exceed each other in
+cruelty to their old father, who had been so good to them, by
+little and little would have abated him of all his train, all
+respect (little enough for him that once commanded a kingdom)
+which was left him to show that he had once been a king! Not that
+a splendid train is essential to happiness, but from a king to a
+beggar is a hard change, from commanding millions to be without
+one attendant; and it was the ingratitude in his daughters'
+denying more than what he would suffer by the want of it, which
+pierced this poor king to the heart; in so much that, with this
+double ill-usage, and vexation for having so foolishly given away
+a kingdom, his wits began to be unsettled, and while he said he
+knew not what, he vowed revenge against those unnatural hags and
+to make examples of them that should be a terror to the earth!
+
+While he was thus idly threatening what his weak arm could never
+execute, night came on, and a loud storm of thunder and lightning
+with rain; and his daughters still persisting in their resolution
+not to admit his followers, he called for his horses, and chose
+rather to encounter the utmost fury of the storm abroad than stay
+under the same roof with these ungrateful daughters; and they,
+saying that the injuries which wilful men procure to themselves
+are their just punishment, suffered him to go in that condition
+and shut their doors upon him.
+
+The winds were high, and the rain and storm increased, when the
+old man sallied forth to combat with the elements, less sharp
+than his daughters' unkindness. For many miles about there was
+scarce a bush; and there upon a heath, exposed to the fury of the
+storm in a dark night, did King Lear wander out, and defy the
+winds and the thunder; and he bid the winds to blow the earth
+into the sea, or swell the waves of the sea till they drowned the
+earth, that no token might remain of any such ungrateful animal
+as man. The old king was now left with no other companion than
+the poor fool, who still abided with him, with his merry conceits
+striving to outjest misfortune, saying it was but a naughty night
+to swim in, and truly the king had better go in and ask his
+daughter's blessing:
+
+    But he that has a little tiny wit--
+       With heigh ho, the wind and the rain,--
+    Must make content with his fortunes fit
+       Though the rain it raineth every day,
+
+and swearing it was a brave night to cool a lady's pride.
+
+Thus poorly accompanied, this once great monarch was found by his
+ever-faithful servant the good Earl of Kent, now transformed to
+Caius, who ever followed close at his side, though the king did
+not know him to be the earl; and be said:
+
+"Alas, sir, are you here? Creatures that love night love not such
+nights as these. This dreadful storm has driven the beasts to
+their hiding-places. Man's nature cannot endure the affliction or
+the fear."
+
+And Lear rebuked him and said these lesser evils were not felt
+where a greater malady was fixed. When the mind is at ease the
+body has leisure to be delicate, but the tempest in his mind did
+take all feeling else from his senses but of that which beat at
+his heart. And he spoke of filial ingratitude, and said it was
+all one as if the mouth should tear the hand for lifting food to
+it; for parents were hands and food and everything to children.
+
+But the good Caius still persisting in his entreaties that the
+king would not stay out in the open air, at last persuaded him to
+enter a little wretched hovel which stood upon the heath, where
+the fool first entering, suddenly ran back terrified, saying that
+he had seen a spirit. But upon examination this spirit proved to
+be nothing more than a poor Bedlam beggar who had crept into this
+deserted hovel for shelter, and with his talk about devils
+frighted the fool, one of those poor lunatics who are either mad,
+or feign to be so, the better to extort charity from the
+compassionate country people, who go about the country calling
+themselves poor Tom and poor Turlygood, saying, "Who gives
+anything to poor Tom?" sticking pins and nails and sprigs of
+rosemary into their arms to make them bleed; and with horrible
+actions, partly by prayers, and partly with lunatic curses, they
+move or terrify the ignorant country folk into giving them alms.
+This poor fellow was such a one; and the king, seeing him in so
+wretched a plight, with nothing but a blanket about his loins to
+cover his nakedness, could not be persuaded but that the fellow
+was some father who had given all away to his daughters and
+brought himself to that pass; for nothing, he thought, could
+bring a man to such wretchedness but the having unkind daughters.
+
+And from this and many such wild speeches which he uttered the
+good Caius plainly perceived that he was not in his perfect mind,
+but that his daughters' ill-usage had really made him go mad. And
+now the loyalty of this worthy Earl of Kent showed itself in more
+essential services than he had hitherto found opportunity to
+perform. For with the assistance of some of the king's attendants
+who remained loyal he had the person of his royal master removed
+at daybreak to the castle of Dover, where his own friends and
+influence, as Earl of Kent, chiefly lay; and himself, embarking
+for France, hastened to the court of Cordelia, and did there in
+such moving terms represent the pitiful condition of her royal
+father, and set out in such lively colors the inhumanity of her
+sisters, that this good and loving child with many tears besought
+the king, her husband, that he would give her leave to embark for
+England, with a sufficient power to subdue these cruel daughters
+and their husbands and restore the old king, her father, to his
+throne; which being granted, she set forth, and with a royal army
+landed at Dover.
+
+Lear, having by some chance escaped from the guardians which' the
+good Earl of Kent had put over him to take care of him in his
+lunacy, was found by some of Cordelia's train, wandering about
+the fields near Dover, in a pitiable condition, stark mad, and
+singing aloud to himself, with a crown upon his head which he had
+made of straw and nettles and other wild weeds that he had picked
+up in the corn-fields. By the advice of the physicians, Cordelia,
+though earnestly desirous of seeing her father, was prevailed
+upon to put off the meeting till, by sleep and the operation of
+herbs which they gave him, he should be restored to greater
+composure. By the aid of these skilful physicians, to whom
+Cordelia promised all her gold and jewels for the recovery of the
+old king, Lear was soon in a condition to see his daughter.
+
+A tender sight it was to see the meeting between this father and
+daughter; to see the struggles between the joy of this poor old
+king at beholding again his once darling child, and the shame at
+receiving such filial kindness from her whom he had cast off for
+so small a fault in his displeasure; both these passions
+struggling with the remains of his malady, which in his
+half-crazed brain sometimes made him that he scarce remembered
+where he was or who it was tb at so kindly kissed him and spoke
+to him. And then he would beg the standers-by not to laugh at him
+if he were mistaken in thinking this lady to be his daughter
+Cordelia! And then to see him fall on his knees to beg pardon of
+his child; and she, good lady, kneeling all the while to ask a
+blessing of him, and telling him that it did not become him to
+kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his child, his true and
+very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said) to kiss
+away all her sisters' unkindness, and said that they might be
+ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his
+white beard out into the cold air, when her enemy's dog, though
+it had bit her (as she prettily expressed it), should have stayed
+by her fire such a night as that, and warmed himself. And she
+told her father how she had come from France with purpose to
+bring him assistance; and he said that she must forget and
+forgive, for he was old and foolish and did not know what he did;
+but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but her
+sisters had none. And Cordelia said that she had no cause, no
+more than they had.
+
+So we will leave this old king in the protection of his dutiful
+and loving child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she
+and her physicians at length succeeded in winding up the untuned
+and jarring senses which the cruelty of his other daughters had
+so violently shaken. Let us return to say a word or two about
+those cruel daughters.
+
+These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old
+father, could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own
+husbands. They soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of
+duty and affection, and in an open way showed they had fixed
+their loves upon another. It happened that the object of their
+guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a natural son of the
+late Earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had succeeded in
+disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his
+earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a
+wicked man, and a fit object for the love of such wicked
+creatures as Goneril and Regan. It falling out about this time
+that the Duke of Cornwall, Regan's husband, died, Regan
+immediately declared her intention of wedding this Earl of
+Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as
+well as to Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed
+love, Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison;
+but being detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her
+husband, the Duke of Albany, for this deed, and for her guilty
+passion for the earl which had come to his ears, she, in a fit of
+disappointed love and rage, shortly put an end to her own life.
+Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these wicked
+daughters.
+
+While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the
+justice displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were
+suddenly taken off from this sight to admire at the mysterious
+ways of the same power in the melancholy fate of the young and
+virtuous daughter, the Lady Cordelia, whose good deeds did seem
+to deserve a more fortunate conclusion. But it is an awful truth
+that innocence and piety are not always successful in this world.
+The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the command
+of the bad Earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by
+the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any
+should stand between him and the throne, ended her life in
+prison. Thus heaven took this innocent lady to itself in her
+young years, after showing her to the world an illustrious
+example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive this kind
+child.
+
+Before he died, the good Earl of Kent, who had still attended his
+old master's steps from the first of his daughters' ill-usage to
+this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that
+it was he who had followed him under the name of Caius; but
+Lear's care-crazed brain at that time could not comprehend how
+that could be, or how Kent and Caius could be the same person, so
+Kent thought it needless to trouble him with explanations at such
+a time; and, Lear soon after expiring, this faithful servant to
+the king, between age and grief for his old master's vexations,
+soon followed him to the grave.
+
+How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad Earl of Gloucester,
+whose treasons were discovered, and himself slain in single
+combat with his brother, the lawful earl, and how Goneril's
+husband, the Duke of Albany, who was innocent of the death of
+Cordelia, and had never encouraged his lady in her wicked
+proceedings against her father, ascended the throne of Britain
+after the death of Lear, it is needless here to narrate, Lear and
+his three daughters being dead, whose adventures alone concern
+our story.
+
+
+
+MACBETH
+
+When Duncan the Meek reigned King of Scotland there lived a great
+thane, or lord, called Macbeth. This Macbeth was a near kinsman
+to the king, and in great esteem at court for his valor and
+conduct in the wars, an example of which he had lately given in
+defeating a rebel army assisted by the troops of Norway in
+terrible numbers.
+
+The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and Banquo, returning
+victorious from this great battle, their way lay over a blasted
+heath, where they were stopped by the strange appearance of three
+figures like women, except that they had beards, and their
+withered skins and wild attire made them look not like any
+earthly creatures. Macbeth first addressed them, when they,
+seemingly offended, laid each one her choppy finger upon her
+skinny lips, in token of silence; and the first of them saluted
+Macbeth with the title of Thane of Glamis. The general was not a
+little startled to find himself known by such creatures; but how
+much more, when the second of them followed up that salute by
+giving him the title of Thane of Cawdor, to which honor he had no
+pretensions; and again the third bid him, "All hail! that shalt
+be king hereafter!" Such a prophetic greeting might well amaze
+him, who knew that while the king's sons lived he could not hope
+to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo, they pronounced
+him, in a sort of riddling terms, to be LESSER THAN MACBETH, AND
+GREATER! NOT SO HAPPY, BUT MUCH HAPPIER! and prophesied that
+though he should never reign, yet his sons after him should be
+kings in Scotland. They then turned into air and vanished; by
+which the generals knew them to be the weird sisters, or witches.
+
+While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adventure
+there arrived certain messengers from the king, who were
+empowered by him to confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of
+Cawdor. An event so miraculously corresponding with the
+prediction of the witches astonished Macbeth, and he stood
+wrapped in amazement, unable to make reply to the messengers; and
+in that point of time swelling hopes arose in his mind that the
+prediction of the third witch might in like manner have its
+accomplishment, and that he should one day reign king in
+Scotland.
+
+Turning to Banquo, he said, "Do you not hope that your children
+shall be kings, when what the witches promised to me has so
+wonderfully come to pass?"
+
+"That hope," answered the general, "might enkindle you to aim at
+the throne; but oftentimes these ministers of darkness tell us
+truths in little things, to betray us into deeds of greatest
+consequence."
+
+But the wicked suggestions of the witches had sunk too deep into
+the mind of Macbeth to allow him to attend to the warnings of the
+good Banquo. From that time he bent all his thoughts how to
+compass the throne of Scotland.
+
+Macbeth had a wife, to whom he communicated the strange
+prediction of the weird sisters and its partial accomplishment.
+She was a bad, ambitious woman, and so as her husband and herself
+could arrive at greatness she cared not much by what means. She
+spurred on the reluctant purpose of Macbeth, who felt compunction
+at the thoughts of blood, and did not cease to represent the
+murder of the king as a step absolutely necessary to the
+fulfilment of the flattering prophecy.
+
+It happened at this time that the king, who out of his royal
+condescension would oftentimes visit his principal nobility upon
+gracious terms, came to Macbeth's house, attended by his two
+sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, and a numerous train of thanes and
+attendants, the more to honor Macbeth for the triumphal success
+of his wars.
+
+The castle of Macbeth was pleasantly situated and the air about
+it was sweet and wholesome, which appeared by the nests which the
+martlet, or swallow, had built under all the jutting friezes and
+buttresses of the building, wherever it found a place of
+advantage; for where those birds most breed and haunt the air is
+observed to be delicate. The king entered, well pleased with the
+place, and not less so with the attentions and respect of his
+honored hostess, Lady Macbeth, who had the art of covering
+treacherous purposes with smiles, and could look like the
+innocent flower while she was indeed serpent under it.
+
+The king, being tired with his journey, went early to bed, and in
+his state-room two grooms of his chamber (as was the custom)
+beside him. He had been unusually pleased with his reception, and
+had made presents before he retired to his principal ; and among
+the rest had sent a diamond to Lady Macbeth, greeting the name of
+his most kind hostess.
+
+Now was the middle of night, when over half the world nature
+seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse men's minds asleep, and none
+but the wolf and the murderer are abroad. This was the time when
+Lady Macbeth waked to plot the murder of the king. She would not
+have undertaken a deed so abhorrent to her sex but that she
+feared her husband's nature, that it was too full of the milk of
+human kindness to do a contrived murder. She knew him to be
+ambitious, but withal to be scrupulous, and not yet prepared for
+that height of crime which commonly in the end accompanies
+inordinate ambition. She had won him to consent to the murder,
+but she doubted his resolution; and she feared that the natural
+tenderness of his disposition (more humane than her own) would
+come between and defeat the purpose. So with her own hands armed
+with a dagger she approached the king's bed, having taken care to
+ply the grooms of his chamber so with wine that they slept
+intoxicated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan in a
+sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed
+him earnestly there was something in his face, as he slept, which
+resembled her own father, and she had not the courage to proceed.
+
+She returned to confer with her husband. His resolution had begun
+to stagger. He considered that there were strong reasons against
+the deed. In the first place, he was not only a subject, but a
+near kinsman to the king; and he had been his host and
+entertainer that day, whose duty, by the laws of hospitality, it
+was to shut the door against his murderers, not bear the knife
+himself. Then he considered how just and merciful a king this
+Duncan had been, how clear of offense to his subjects, how loving
+to his nobility, and in particular to him; that such kings are
+the peculiar care of Heaven, and their subjects doubly bound to
+revenge their deaths. Besides, by the favors of the king, Macbeth
+stood high in the opinion of all sorts of men, and how would
+those honors be stained by the reputation of so foul a murder!
+
+In these conflicts of the mind Lady Macbeth found her husband
+inclining to the better part and resolving to proceed no further.
+But she, being a woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose,
+began to pour in at his ears words which infused a portion of her
+own spirit into his mind, assigning reason upon reason why he
+should not shrink from what he had undertaken; how easy the deed
+was; how soon it would be over; and how the action of one short
+night would give to all their nights and days to come sovereign
+sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on his change of
+purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cowardice; and
+declared that she had given suck, and knew how tender it was to
+love the babe that milked her, but she would, while it was
+smiling in her face, have plucked it from her breast and dashed
+its brains out if she had so sworn to do it as he had sworn to
+perform that murder. Then she added, how practicable it was to
+lay the guilt of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And
+with the valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish
+resolutions that he once more summoned up courage to the bloody
+business.
+
+So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark to
+the room where Duncan lay; and as he went he thought he saw
+another dagger in the air, with the handle toward him, and on the
+blade and at the point of it drops of blood; but when be tried to
+grasp at it it was nothing but air, a mere phantasm proceeding
+from his own hot and oppressed brain and the business he had in
+hand.
+
+Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king's room, whom he
+despatched with one stroke of his dagger. just as he had done the
+murder one of the grooms who slept in the chamber laughed in his
+sleep, and the other cried, "Murder," which woke them both.
+
+But they said a short prayer; one of them said, "God less us!"
+and the other answered, "Amen"; and addressed themselves to sleep
+again. Macbeth, who stood listening to them, tried to say "Amen"
+when the fellow said "God bless us!" but, though he had most need
+of a blessing, the word stuck in his throat and he could not
+pronounce it.
+
+Again he thought he heard a voice which cried: "Sleep no more!
+Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, that nourishes
+life." Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the house. "Glamis
+hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,
+Macbeth shall sleep no more."
+
+With such horrible imaginations Macbeth returned to his listening
+wife, who began to think he had failed of his purpose and that
+the deed was somehow frustrated. He came in so distracted a state
+that she reproached him with his want of firmness and sent him to
+wash his hands of the blood which stained them, while she took
+his dagger, with purpose to stain the cheeks of the grooms with
+blood, to make it seem their guilt.
+
+Morning came, and with it the discovery of the murder, which
+could not be concealed; and though Macbeth and his lady made
+great show of grief, and the proofs against the grooms (the
+dagger being produced against them and their faces smeared with
+blood) were sufficiently strong, yet the entire suspicion fell
+upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much more
+forcible than such poor silly grooms could be supposed to have;
+and Duncan's two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought for
+refuge in the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made
+his escape to Ireland.
+
+The king's sons, who should have succeeded him, having thus
+vacated the throne, Macbeth as next heir was crowned king, and
+thus the prediction of the weird sisters was literally
+accomplished.
+
+Though placed so high, Macbeth and his queen could not forget the
+prophecy of the weird sisters that, though Macbeth should be
+king, yet not his children, but the children of Banquo, should be
+kings after him. The thought of this, and that they had defiled
+their hands with blood, and done so great crimes, only to place
+the posterity of Banquo upon the throne, so rankled within them
+that they determined to put to death both Banquo and his son, to
+make void the predictions of the weird sisters, which in their
+own case had been so remarkably brought to pass.
+
+For this purpose they made a great supper, to which they invited
+all the chief thanes; and among the rest, with marks of
+particular respect, Banquo and his son Fleance were invited. The
+way by which Banquo was to pass to the palace at night was beset
+by murderers appointed by Macbeth, who stabbed Banquo; but in the
+scuffle Fleance escaped. From that Fleance descended a race of
+monarchs who afterward filled the Scottish throne, ending with
+James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England, under whom
+the two crowns of England and Scotland were united.
+
+At supper, the queen, whose manners were in the highest degree
+affable and royal, played the hostess with a gracefulness and
+attention which conciliated every one present, and Macbeth
+discoursed freely with his thanes and nobles, saying that all
+that was honorable in the country was under his roof, if he had
+but his good friend Banquo present, whom yet he hoped he should
+rather have to chide for neglect than to lament for any
+mischance. just at these words the ghost of Banquo, whom he had
+caused to be murdered, entered the room and placed himself on the
+chair which Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a
+bold man, and one that could have faced the devil without
+trembling, at this horrible sight his cheeks turned white with
+fear and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes fixed upon the
+ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but
+perceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took
+it for a fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering
+that it was but the same fancy which made him see the dagger in
+the air when he was about to kill Duncan. But Macbeth continued
+to see the ghost, and gave no heed to all they could say, while
+he addressed it with distracted words, yet so significant that
+his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be disclosed, in
+great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity of
+Macbeth as disorder he was often troubled with.
+
+To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject. His queen and he
+had their sleeps afflicted with terrible dreams, and the blood of
+Banquo troubled them not more than the escape of Fleance, whom
+now they looked upon as father to a line of kings who should keep
+their posterity out of the throne. With these miserable thoughts
+they found no peace, and Macbeth determined once more to seek out
+the weird sisters and know from them the worst.
+
+He sought them in a cave upon the heath, where they, who knew by
+foresight of his coming, were engaged in preparing their dreadful
+charms by which they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to
+them futurity. Their horrid ingredients were toads, bats, and
+serpents, the eye of a newt and the tongue of a dog, the leg of a
+lizard and the wing of the night-owl, the scale of a dragon, the
+tooth of a wolf, the maw of the ravenous salt-sea shark, the
+mummy of a witch, the root of the poisonous hemlock (this to have
+effect must be digged in the dark), the gall of a goat, and the
+liver of a Jew, with slips of the yew-tree that roots itself in
+graves, and the finger of a dead child. All these were set on to
+boil in a great kettle, or caldron, which, as fast as it grew too
+hot, was cooled with a baboon's blood. To these they poured in
+the blood of a sow that had eaten her young, and they threw into
+the flame the grease that had sweaten from a murderer's gibbet.
+By these charms they bound the infernal spirit to answer their
+questions.
+
+It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his doubts
+resolved by them or by their masters, the spirits.
+
+He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which be saw,
+boldly answered: "Where are they? Let me see them."
+
+And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first
+arose in the likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by
+name and bid him beware of the Thane of Fife; for which caution
+Macbeth thanked him; for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of
+Macduff, the Thane of Fife.
+
+And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child,
+and he called Macbeth by name and bid him have no fear, but laugh
+to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born should have
+power to hurt him; and he advised him to be bloody, bold, and
+resolute.
+
+"Then live, Macduff!" cried the king. "What need I fear thee? But
+yet I will make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live, that
+I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of
+thunder."
+
+That spirit being dismissed, a third arose in the form of a child
+crowned, with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name and
+comforted him against conspiracies, saying that he should never
+be vanquished until the wood of Birnam to Dunsinane hill should
+come against him.
+
+"Sweet bodements! good!" cried Macbeth; "who can unfix the
+forest, and move it from its earth-bound roots? I see I shall
+live the usual period of man's life, and not be cut off by a
+violent death. But my heart throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if
+your art can tell so much, if Banquo's issue shall ever reign in
+this kingdom?"
+
+Here the caldron sank into the ground, and a noise of music was
+heard, and eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and
+Banquo last, who bore a glass which showed the figures of many
+more, and Banquo, all bloody, smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to
+them; by which Macbeth knew that these were the posterity of
+Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and the witches,
+with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making a show of
+duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And from this time the
+thoughts of Macbeth were all bloody and dreadful. The first thing
+he heard when he got out of the witches' cave was that Macduff,
+Thane of Fife, had fled to England to join the army which was
+forming against him under Malcolm, the eldest son of the late
+king, with intent to displace Macbeth and set Malcolm, the right
+heir, upon the throne. Macbeth, stung with rage, set upon the
+castle of Macduff and put his wife and children, whom the thane
+had left behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all
+who claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
+
+These and such-like deeds alienated the minds of all his chief
+nobility from him. Such as could fled to join with Malcolm and
+Macduff, who were now approaching with a powerful army which they
+had raised in England; and the rest secretly wished success to
+their arms, though, for fear of Macbeth, they could take no
+active part. His recruits went on slowly. Everybody hated the
+tyrant; nobody loved or honored him; but all suspected him; and
+he began to envy the condition of Duncan, whom he had murdered,
+who slept soundly in his grave, against whom treason had done its
+worst. Steel nor poison, domestic malice nor foreign levies,
+could hurt him any longer.
+
+While these things were acting, the queen, who had been the sole
+partner in his wickedness, in whose bosom he could sometimes seek
+a momentary repose from those terrible dreams which afflicted
+them both nightly, died, it is supposed, by her own hands, unable
+to bear the remorse of guilt and public hate; by which event he
+was left alone, without a soul to love or care for him, or a
+friend to whom he could confide his wicked purposes.
+
+He grew careless of life and wished for death; but the near
+approach of Malcolm's army roused in him what remained of his
+ancient courage, and he determined to die (as he expressed it)
+"with armor on his back." Besides this, the hollow promises of
+the witches had filled him with a false confidence, and he
+remembered the sayings of the spirits, that none of woman born
+was to hurt him, and that he was never to be vanquished till
+Birnam wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought could
+never be. So he shut himself up in his castle, whose impregnable
+strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly waited the
+approach of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there came a messenger to
+him, pale and shaking with fear, almost unable to report that
+which he had seen; for he averred, that as he stood upon his
+watch on the hill he looked toward Birnam, and to his thinking
+the wood began to move!
+
+"Liar and slave!" cried Macbeth. "If thou speakest false, thou
+shalt hang alive upon the next tree, till famine end thee. If thy
+tale be true, I care not if thou dost as much by me"; for Macbeth
+now began to faint in resolution, and to doubt the equivocal
+speeches of the spirits. He was not to fear till Birnam wood
+should come to Dunsinane; and now a wood did move! "However,"
+said he, "if this which he avouches be true, let us arm and out.
+There is no flying hence, nor staying here. I begin to be weary
+of the sun, and wish my life at an end." With these desperate
+speeches he sallied forth upon the besiegers, who had now come up
+to the castle.
+
+The strange appearance which had given the messenger an idea of a
+wood moving is easily solved. When the besieging army marched
+through the wood of Birnam, Malcolm, like a skilful general,
+instructed his soldiers to hew down every one a bough and bear it
+before him, by way of concealing the true numbers of his host.
+This marching of the soldiers with boughs had at a distance the
+appearance which had frightened the messenger. Thus were the
+words of the spirit brought to pass, in a sense different from
+that in which Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of
+his confidence was gone.
+
+And now a severe skirmishing took place, in which Macbeth, though
+feebly supported by those who called themselves his friends, but
+in reality hated the tyrant and inclined to the party of Malcolm
+and Macduff, yet fought with the extreme of rage and valor,
+cutting to pieces all who were opposed to him, till he came to
+where Macduff was fighting. Seeing Macduff, and remembering the
+caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid Macduff,
+above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff, who had been
+seeking him through the whole fight, opposed his turning, and a
+fierce contest ensued, Macduff giving him many foul reproaches
+for the murder of his wife and children. Macbeth, whose soul was
+charged enough with blood of that family already, would still
+have declined the combat; but Macduff still urged him to it,
+calling him tyrant, murderer, hell-hound, and villain.
+
+Then Macbeth remembered the words of the spirit, how none of
+woman born should hurt him; and, smiling confidently, he said to
+Macduff:
+
+"Thou losest thy labor, Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress
+the air with thy sword as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed
+life, which must not yield to one of woman born."
+
+"Despair thy charm," said Macduff, "and let that lying spirit
+whom thou hast served tell thee that Macduff was never born of
+woman, never as the ordinary manner of men is to be born, but was
+untimely taken from his mother."
+
+"Accursed be the tongue which tells me so," said the trembling
+Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; "and let
+never man in future believe the lying equivocations of witches
+and juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have double
+senses, and, while they keep their promise literally, disappoint
+our hopes with a different meaning. I will not fight with thee."
+
+"Then live!" said the scornful Macduff. "We will have a show of
+thee, as men show monsters, and a painted board, on which all be
+written, 'Here men may see the tyrant!'"
+
+"Never," said Macbeth, whose courage returned with despair. "I
+will not live to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet to
+be baited with the curses of the rabble. Though Birnam wood be
+come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed to me, who wast born of
+woman, yet will I try the last."
+
+With these frantic words he threw himself upon Macduff, who,
+after a severe struggle, in the end overcame him, and, cutting
+off his head, made a present of it to the young and lawful king,
+Malcolm, who took upon him the government which, by the
+machinations of the usurper, he had so long been deprived of, and
+ascended the throne of Duncan the Meek among the acclamations of
+the nobles and the people.
+
+
+
+ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+Bertram, Count of Rousillon, had newly come to his title and
+estate by the death of his father. The King of France loved the
+father of Bertram, and when he heard of his death he sent for his
+son to come immediately to his royal court in Paris, intending,
+for the friendship he bore the late count, to grace young Bertram
+with his especial favor and protection.
+
+Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when
+Lafeu, an old lord of the French court, came to conduct him to
+the king. The King of France was an absolute monarch and the
+invitation to court was in the form of a royal mandate, or
+positive command, which no subject, of what high dignity soever,
+might disobey; therefore, though the countess, in parting with
+this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose
+loss she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a
+single day, but gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who
+came to fetch him, tried to comfort the countess for the loss of
+her late lord and her son's sudden absence; and he said, in a
+courtier's flattering manner, that the king was so kind a prince,
+she would find in his Majesty a husband, and that he would be a
+father to her son; meaning only that the good king would befriend
+the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the king
+had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his
+physicians to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on
+hearing this account of the king's ill health, and said she
+wished the father of Helena (a young gentlewoman who was present
+in attendance upon her) were living that she doubted not he could
+have cured his Majesty of his disease. And she told Lafeu
+something of the history of Helena, saying she was the only
+daughter of the famous physician, Gerard de Narbon, and that he
+had recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so
+that since his death she had taken Helena under her protection;
+then the countess praised the virtuous disposition and excellent
+qualities of Helena, saying she inherited these virtues from her
+worthy father. While she was speaking, Helena wept in sad and
+mournful silence, which made the countess gently reprove her for
+too much grieving for her father's death.
+
+Bertram now bade his mother farewell. The countess parted with
+this dear son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to
+the care of Lafeu, saying:
+
+"Good my lord, advise him, for he is an unseasoned courtier."
+
+Bertram's last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words
+of mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his
+short farewell to her with saying:
+
+"Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of
+her."
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and
+mournful silence the tears she shed were not for Gerard de
+Narbon.. Helena loved her father, but in the present feeling of a
+deeper love, the object of which she was about to lose, she had
+forgotten the very form and features of her dead father, her
+imagination presenting no image to her mind but Bertram's.
+
+Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he
+was the Count of Rousillon, descended from the most ancient
+family in France. She of humble birth. Her parents of no note at
+all. His ancestors all noble. And therefore she looked up to the
+high-born Bertram as to her master and to her dear lord, and
+dared not form any wish but to live his servant, and, so living,
+to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her between
+his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes that she would say:
+
+"It were all one that I should love a bright particular star, and
+think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me."
+
+Bertram's absence filled her eyes with tears and her heart with
+sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty
+comfort to her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and
+look upon his dark eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his
+fine hair till she seemed to draw his portrait on the tablet of
+her heart, that heart too capable of retaining the memory of
+every line in the features of that loved face.
+
+Gerard de Narbon, when he died, left her no other portion than
+some prescriptions of rare and well-proved virtue, which, by deep
+study and long experience in medicine, he had collected as
+sovereign and almost infallible remedies. Among the rest there
+was one set down as an approved medicine for the disease under
+which Lafeu said the king at that time languished; and when
+Helena heard of the king's complaint, she, who till now had been
+so humble and so hopeless, formed an ambitious project in her
+mind to go herself to Paris and undertake the cure of the king.
+But though Helena was the possessor of this choice prescription,
+it was unlikely, as the king as well as his physicians was of
+opinion that his disease was incurable, that they would give
+credit to a poor unlearned virgin if she should offer to perform
+a cure. The firm hopes that Helena had of succeeding, if she
+might be permitted to make the trial, seemed more than even her
+father's skill warranted, though he was the most famous physician
+of his time; for she felt a strong faith that this good medicine
+was sanctified by all the luckiest stars in heaven to be the
+legacy that should advance her fortune, even to the high dignity
+of being Count Rousillon's wife.
+
+Bertram had not been long gone when the countess was informed by
+her steward that he had overheard Helena talking to herself, and
+that he understood, from some words she uttered, she was in love
+with Bertram and thought of following him to Paris. The countess
+dismissed the steward with thanks, and desired him to tell Helena
+she wished to speak with her. What she had just heard of Helena
+brought the remembrance of days long past into the mind of the
+countess; those days, probably, when her love for Bertram's
+father first began; and she said to herself:
+
+"Even so it was with me when I was young. Love is a thorn that
+belongs to the rose of youth; for in the season of youth, if ever
+we are Nature's children, these faults are ours, though then we
+think not they are faults."
+
+While the countess was thus meditating on the loving errors of
+her own youth, Helena entered, and she said to her, "Helena, you
+know I am a mother to you."
+
+Helena replied, "You are my honorable mistress."
+
+"You are my daughter," said the countess again. "I say I am your
+mother. Why do you start and look pale at my words?"
+
+With looks of alarm and confused thoughts, fearing the countess
+suspected her love, Helena still replied, "Pardon me, madam, you
+are not my mother; the Count Rousillon cannot be my brother, nor
+I your daughter."
+
+"Yet, Helena," said the countess, "you might be my
+daughter-in-law; and I am afraid that is what you mean to be, the
+words MOTHER and DAUGHTER so disturb you. Helena, do you love my
+son?"
+
+"Good madam, pardon me," said the affrighted Helena.
+
+Again the countess repeated her question. "Do you love my son?"
+
+"Do not you love him, madam?" said Helena.
+
+The countess replied: "Give me not this evasive answer, Helena.
+Come, come, disclose the state of your affections, for your love
+has to the full appeared."
+
+Helena, on her knees now, owned her love, and with shame and
+terror implored the pardon of her noble mistress; and with words
+expressive of the sense she had of the inequality between their
+fortunes she protested Bertram did not know she loved him,
+comparing her humble, unaspiring love to a poor Indian who adores
+the sun that looks upon his worshiper but knows of him no more.
+The countess asked Helena if she had not lately an intent to go
+to Paris. Helena owned the design she had formed in her mind when
+she heard Lafeu speak of the king's illness.
+
+"This was your motive for wishing to go to Paris," said the
+countess, "was it? Speak truly."
+
+Helena honestly answered, "My lord your son made me to think of
+this; else Paris. and the medicine and the king had from the
+conversation of my thoughts been absent then."
+
+The countess heard the whole of this confession without saying a
+word either of approval or of blame, but she strictly questioned
+Helena as to the probability of the medicine being useful to the
+king. She found that it was the most prized by Gerard de Narbon
+of all he possessed, and that he had given it to his daughter on
+his death-bed; and remembering the solemn promise she had made at
+that awful hour in regard to this young maid, whose destiny, and
+the life of the king himself, seemed to depend on the execution
+of a project (which, though conceived by the fond suggestions of
+a loving maiden's thoughts, the countess knew not but it might be
+the unseen workings of Providence to bring to pass the recovery
+of the king and to lay the foundation of the future fortunes of
+Gerard de Narbon's daughter), free leave she gave to Helena to
+pursue her own way, and generously furnished her with ample means
+and suitable attendants; and Helena set out for Paris with the
+blessings of the countess and her kindest wishes for her success.
+
+Helena arrived at Paris, and by the assistance of her friend, the
+old Lord Lafeu, she obtained an audience of the king. She had
+still many difficulties to encounter, for the king was not easily
+prevailed on to try the medicine offered him by this fair young
+doctor. But she told him she was Gerard de Narbon's daughter
+(with whose fame the king was well acquainted), and she offered
+the precious medicine as the darling treasure which contained the
+essence of all her father's long experience and skill, and she
+boldly engaged to forfeit her life if it failed to restore his
+Majesty to perfect health in the space of two days. The king at
+length consented to try it, and in two days' time Helena was to
+lose her fife if the king did not recover; but if she succeeded,
+he promised to give her the choice of any man throughout all
+France (the princes only excepted) whom she could like for a
+husband; the choice of a husband being the fee Helena demanded if
+she cured the king of his disease.
+
+Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the
+efficacy of her father's medicine. Before two days were at an
+end the king was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all
+the young noblemen of his court together, in order to confer the
+promised reward of a husband upon his fair physician; and he
+desired Helena to look round on this youthful parcel of noble
+bachelors and choose her husband. Helena was not slow to make her
+choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count Rousillon,
+and, turning to Bertram, she said:
+
+"This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give
+me and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power."
+
+"Why, then," said the king, "young Bertram, take her; she is your
+wife."
+
+Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present
+of the king's of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a
+poor physician's daughter, bred at his father's charge, and now
+living a dependent on his mother's bounty.
+
+Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and
+she said to the king: "That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let
+the rest go."
+
+But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so
+slighted, for the power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was
+one of the many privileges of the kings of France, and that same
+day Bertram was married to Helena, a forced and uneasy marriage
+to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the poor lady, who,
+though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her life to
+obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband's
+love not being a gift in the power of the King of France to
+bestow.
+
+Helena was no sooner married than she was desired by Bertram to
+apply to the king for him for leave of absence from court; and
+when she brought him the king's permission for his departure,
+Bertram told her that he was not prepared for this sudden
+marriage, it had much unsettled him, and therefore she must not
+wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena wondered not,
+she grieved when she found it was his intention to leave her. He
+ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this
+unkind command, she replied:
+
+"Sir, I can nothing say to this but that I am your most obedient
+servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that
+desert wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great
+fortunes."
+
+But this humble speech of Helena's did not at all move the
+haughty Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her
+without even the common civility of a kind farewell.
+
+Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished
+the purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the
+king, and she had wedded her heart's dear lord, the Count
+Rousillon; but she returned back a dejected lady to her noble
+mother-in-law, and as soon as she entered the house she received
+a letter from Bertram which almost broke her heart.
+
+The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she
+had been her son's own choice and a lady of a high degree, and
+she spoke kind words to comfort her for the unkind neglect of
+Bertram in sending his wife home on her bridal day alone. But
+this gracious reception failed to cheer the sad mind of Helena,
+and she said:
+
+"Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone." She then read these words
+out of Bertram's letter:
+
+"When you can get the ring from my finger, which never shall come
+off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write a Never."
+
+"This is a dreadful sentence!" said Helena.
+
+The countess begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram
+was gone, she should be her child and that she deserved a lord
+that twenty such rude boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly
+call her mistress. But in vain by respectful condescension and
+kind flattery this matchless mother tried to soothe the sorrows
+of her daughter-in-law.
+
+Helena still kept her eyes fixed upon the letter, and cried out
+in an agony of grief, "TILL I HAVE NO WIFE, I HAVE NOTHING IN
+FRANCE." The countess asked her if she found those words in the
+letter.
+
+"Yes, madam," was all poor Helena could answer.
+
+The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be
+delivered to the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her
+with the reason of her sudden absence. In this letter she
+informed her that she was so much grieved at having driven
+Bertram from his native country and his home, that to atone for
+her offense, she had undertaken a pilgrimage to the shrine of St.
+Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the countess to
+inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his house
+forever.
+
+Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became
+an officer in the Duke of Florence's army, and after a successful
+war, in which he distinguished himself by many brave actions,
+Bertram received letters from his mother containing the
+acceptable tidings that Helena would no more disturb him; and he
+was preparing to return home, when Helena herself, clad in her
+pilgrim's weeds, arrived at the city of Florence.
+
+Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on
+their way to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this
+city she heard that a hospitable widow dwelt there who used to
+receive into her house the female pilgrims that were going to
+visit the shrine of that saint, giving them lodging and kind
+entertainment. To this good lady, therefore, Helena went, and the
+widow gave her a courteous welcome and invited her to see
+whatever was curious in that famous city, and told her that if
+she would like to see the duke's army she would take her where
+she might have a full view of it.
+
+"And you will see a countryman of yours," said the widow. "His
+name is Count Rousillon, who has done worthy service in the
+duke's wars." Helena wanted no second invitation, when she found
+Bertram was to make part of the show. She accompanied her
+hostess; and a sad and mournful pleasure it was to her to look
+once more upon her dear husband's face.
+
+"Is he not a handsome man?" said the widow.
+
+"I like him well," replied Helena, with great truth.
+
+All the way they walked the talkative widow's discourse was all
+of Bertram. She told Helena the story of Bertram's marriage, and
+how he had deserted the poor lady his wife and entered into the
+duke's army to avoid living with her. To this account of her own
+misfortunes Helena patiently listened, and when it was ended the
+history of Bertram was not yet done, for then the widow began
+another tale, every word of which sank deep into the mind of
+Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram's love for her
+daughter.
+
+Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the
+king, it seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had
+been stationed with the army at Florence he had fallen in love
+with Diana, a fair young gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow
+who was Helena's hostess; and every night, with music of all
+sorts, and songs composed in praise of Diana's beauty, he would
+come under her window and solicit her love; and all his suit to
+her was that she would permit him to visit her by stealth after
+the family were retired to rest. But Diana would by no means be
+persuaded to grant this improper request, nor give any
+encouragement to his suit, knowing him to be a married man; for
+Diana had been brought up under the counsels of a prudent mother,
+who, though she was now in reduced circumstances, was well born
+and descended from the noble family of the Capulets.
+
+All this the good lady related to Helena, highly praising the
+virtuous principles of her discreet daughter, which she said were
+entirely owing to the excellent education and good advice she had
+given her; and she further said that Bertram had been
+particularly importunate with Diana to admit him to the visit he
+so much desired that night, because he was going to leave
+Florence early the next morning.
+
+Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram's love for the
+widow's daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena
+conceived a project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of
+her former one) to recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the
+widow that she was Helena, the deserted wife of Bertram, and
+requested that her kind hostess and her daughter would suffer
+this visit from Bertram to take place, and allow her to pass
+herself upon Bertram for Diana, telling them her chief motive for
+desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband was to get
+a ring from him, which, he had said, if ever she was in
+possession of he would acknowledge her as his wife.
+
+The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair,
+partly moved by pity for this unhappy, forsaken wife and partly
+won over to her interest by the promises of reward which Helena
+made them, giving them a purse of money in earnest of her future
+favor. In the course of that day Helena caused information to be
+sent to Bertram that she was dead, hoping that, when he thought
+himself free to make a second choice by the news of her death, he
+would offer marriage to her in her feigned character of Diana.
+And if she could obtain the ring and this promise, too, she
+doubted not she should make some future good come of it.
+
+In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into
+Diana's chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The
+flattering compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena
+were precious sounds to her though she knew they were meant for
+Diana; and Bertram was so well pleased with her that he made her
+a solemn promise to be her husband, and to love her forever;
+which she hoped would be prophetic of a real affection, when he
+should know it was his own wife, the despised Helena, whose
+conversation had so delighted him.
+
+Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps
+he would not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every
+day, he had entirely over looked her beauty; a face we are
+accustomed to see constantly losing the effect which is caused by
+the first sight either of beauty or of plainness; and of her
+understanding it was impossible he should judge, because she felt
+such reverence, mixed with her love for him, that she was always
+silent in his presence. But now that her future fate, and the
+happy ending of all her love-projects, seemed to depend on her
+leaving a favorable impression on the mind of Bertram from this
+night's interview, she exerted all her wit to please him; and the
+simple graces of her lively conversation and the endearing
+sweetness of her manners so charmed Bertram that be vowed she
+should be his wife. Helena begged the ring from off his finger as
+a token of his regard, and he gave it to her; and in return for
+this ring, which it was of such importance to her to possess, she
+gave him another ring, which was one the king had made her a
+present of. Before it was light in the morning she sent Bertram
+away; and he immediately set out on his journey toward his
+mother's house.
+
+Helena prevailed on the widow and Diana to accompany her to
+Paris, their further assistance being necessary to the full
+accomplishment of the plan she had formed. When they arrived
+there, they found the king was gone upon a visit to the Countess
+of Rousillon, and Helena followed the king with all the speed she
+could make.
+
+The king was still in perfect health, and his gratitude to her
+who had been the means of his recovery was so lively in his mind
+that the moment he saw the Countess of Rousillon he began to talk
+of Helena, calling her a precious jewel that was lost by the
+folly of her son; but seeing the subject distressed the countess,
+who sincerely lamented the death of Helena, he said:
+
+"My good lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all."
+
+But the good-natured old Lafeu, who was present, and could not
+bear that the memory of his favorite Helena should be so lightly
+passed over, said, "This I must say, the young lord did great
+offense to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady; but to himself
+he did the greatest wrong of all, for he has lost a wife whose
+beauty astonished all eyes, whose words took all ears captive,
+whose deep perfection made all hearts wish to serve her."
+
+The king said: "Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
+Well--call him hither"; meaning Bertram, who now presented
+himself before the king, and on his expressing deep sorrow for
+the injuries he had done to Helena the king, for his dead
+father's and his admirable mother's sake, pardoned him and
+restored him once more to his favor. But the gracious countenance
+of the king was soon changed toward him, for he perceived that
+Bertram wore the very ring upon his finger which he had given to
+Helena; and he well remembered that Helena had called all the
+saints in heaven to witness she would never part with that ring
+unless she sent it to the king himself upon some great disaster
+befalling her; and Bertram, on the king's questioning him how he
+came by the ring, told an improbable story of a lady throwing it
+to him out of a window, and denied ever having seen Helena since
+the day of their marriage. The king, knowing Bertram's dislike to
+his wife, feared he had destroyed her, and he ordered his guards
+to seize Bertram, saying:
+
+"I am wrapt in dismal thinking, for I fear the life of Helena was
+foully snatched."
+
+At this moment Diana and her mother entered and presented a
+petition to the king, wherein they begged his Majesty to exert
+his royal power to compel Bertram to marry Diana, he having made
+her a solemn promise of marriage. Bertram, fearing the king's
+anger, denied he had made any such promise; and then Diana
+produced the ring (which Helena had put into her hands) to
+confirm the truth of her words; and she said that she had given
+Bertram the ring he then wore, in exchange for that, at the time
+he vowed to marry her. On hearing this the king ordered the
+guards to seize her also; and, her account of the ring differing
+from Bertram's, the king's suspicions were confirmed, and he said
+if they did not confess how they came by this ring of Helena's
+they should be both put to death. Diana requested her mother
+might be permitted to fetch the jeweler of whom she bought the
+ring, which, being granted, the widow went out, and presently
+returned, leading in Helena herself.
+
+The good countess, who in silent grief had beheld her son's
+danger, and had even dreaded that the suspicion of his having
+destroyed his wife might possibly be true, finding her dear
+Helena, whom she loved with even a maternal affection, was still
+living, felt a delight she was hardly able to support; and the
+king, scarce believing for joy that it was Helena, said:
+
+"Is this indeed the wife of Bertram that I see?"
+
+Helena, feeling herself yet an unacknowledged wife, replied, "No,
+my good lord, it is but the shadow of a wife you see; the name
+and not the thing."
+
+Bertram cried out: "Both, both! Oh pardon!"
+
+"O my lord," said Helena, "when I personated this fair maid I
+found you wondrous kind; and look, here is your letter!" reading
+to him in a joyful tone those words which she had once repeated
+so sorrowfully, "WHEN FROM MY FINGER YOU CAN GET THIS RING--This
+is done; it was to me you gave the ring. Will you be mine, now
+you are doubly won?"
+
+Bertram replied, "If you can make it plain that you were the lady
+I talked with that night I will love you dearly, ever, ever
+dearly."
+
+This was no difficult task, for the widow and Diana came with
+Helena to prove this fact; and the king was so well pleased with
+Diana for the friendly assistance she had rendered the dear lady
+he so truly valued for the service she had done him that he
+promised her also a noble husband, Helena's history giving him a
+hint that it was a suitable reward for kings to bestow upon fair
+ladies when they perform notable services.
+
+Thus Helena at last found that her father's legacy was indeed
+sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven; for she was now the
+beloved wife of her dear Bertram, the daughter-in-law  of her
+noble mistress, and herself the Countess of Rousillon.
+
+
+
+TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+Katharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich
+gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit
+and fiery temper, such a loud-tongued scold, that she was known
+in Padua by no other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed
+very unlikely, indeed impossible, that any gentleman would ever
+be found who would venture to marry this lady, and therefore
+Baptista was much blamed for deferring his consent to many
+excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister Bianca,
+putting off all Bianca's suitors with this excuse, that when the
+eldest sister was fairly off his bands they should have free
+leave to address young Bianca.
+
+It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to
+Padua purposely to look out for a wife, who, nothing discouraged
+by these reports of Katharine's temper, and hearing she was rich
+and handsome, resolved upon marrying this famous termagant, and
+taming her into a meek and manageable wife. And truly none was so
+fit to set about this herculean labor as Petruchio, whose spirit
+was as high as Katharine's, and he was a witty and most
+happy-tempered humorist, and withal so wise, and of such a true
+judgment, that he well knew how to feign a passionate and furious
+deportment when his spirits were so calm that himself could have
+laughed merrily at his own angry feigning, for his natural temper
+was careless and easy; the boisterous airs he assumed when he
+became the husband of Katharine being but in sport, or, more
+properly speaking, affected by his excellent discernment, as the
+only means to overcome, in her own way, the passionate ways of
+the furious Katharine.
+
+A-courting, then, Petruchio went to Katharine the Shrew; and
+first of all he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave to woo
+his GENTLE DAUGHTER Katharine, as Petruchio called her, saying,
+archly, that, having heard of her bashful modesty and mild
+behavior, he had come from Verona to solicit her love. Her
+father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess
+Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent
+of what manner of gentleness she was composed, for her
+music-master rushed into the room to complain that the gentle
+Katharine, his pupil, had broken his head with her lute for
+presuming to find fault with her performance; which, when
+Petruchio heard, he said:
+
+"It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have
+some chat with her." And hurrying the old gentleman for a
+positive answer, he said: "My business is in haste, Signor
+Baptista. I cannot come every day to woo. You knew my father. He
+is dead, and has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Then
+tell me, if I get your daughter's love, what dowry you will give
+with her."
+
+Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but,
+being glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would
+give her twenty thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his
+estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and
+Baptista went to apprise his shrewish daughter of her lover's
+addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
+
+In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of
+courtship be should pursue; and he said: "I will woo her with
+some spirit when she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will
+tell her she sings as sweetly as a nightingale; and if she
+frowns, I will say she looks as clear as roses newly washed with
+dew. If she will not speak a word, I will praise the eloquence of
+her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will give her
+thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week."
+
+Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed
+her with:
+
+"Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear."
+
+Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully,
+"They call me Katharine who do speak to me."
+
+"You lie," replied the lover; "for you are called plain Kate, and
+bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the
+prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your
+mildness praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my
+wife."
+
+A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms
+showing him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he
+still praised her sweet and courteous words, till at length,
+hearing her father coming, he said (intending to make as quick a
+wooing as possible):
+
+"Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your
+father has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is
+agreed on, and whether you will or no I will marry you."
+
+And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had
+received him kindly and that she had promised to be married the
+next Sunday. This Katharine denied, saying she would rather see
+him hanged on Sunday, and reproached her father for wishing to
+wed her to such a madcap ruffian as Petruchio. Petruchio desired
+her father not to regard her angry words, for they had agreed she
+should seem reluctant before him, but that when they were alone
+he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
+
+"Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel
+against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the
+wedding guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and
+rich clothes, that my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate,
+for we will be married on Sunday."
+
+On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they
+waited long before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for
+vexation to think that Petruchio had only been making a jest of
+her. At last, however, he appeared; but he brought none of the
+bridal finery be had promised Katharine, nor was he dressed
+himself like a bridegroom, but in strange, disordered attire, as
+if he meant to make a sport of the serious business he came
+about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode
+were in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
+
+Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said
+Katharine was to be married to him, and not to his clothes. And,
+finding it was in vain to argue with him, to the church they
+went, he still behaving in the same mad way, for when the priest
+asked Petruchio if Katharine should be his wife, he swore so loud
+that she should, that, all amazed, the priest let fall his book,
+and as he stooped to take it up this mad-brained bridegroom gave
+him such a cuff that down fell the priest and his book again. And
+all the while they were being married he stamped and swore so
+that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear.
+After the ceremony was over, while they were yet in the church,
+he called for wine, and drank a loud health to the company, and
+threw a sop which was at the bottom of the glass full in the
+sexton's face, giving no other reason for this strange act than
+that the sexton's beard grew thin and hungerly, and seemed to ask
+the sop as he was drinking. Never sure was there such a mad
+marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the better
+to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his shrewish wife.
+
+Baptista had provided a sumptuous marriage feast, but when they
+returned from church, Petruchio, taking hold of Katharine,
+declared his intention of carrying his wife home instantly, and
+no remonstrance of his father-in-law, or angry words of the
+enraged Katharine, could make him change his purpose. He claimed
+a husband's right to dispose of his wife as he pleased, and away
+he hurried Katharine off; he seeming so daring and resolute that
+no one dared attempt to stop him.
+
+Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean and lank,
+which he had picked out for the purpose, and, himself and his
+servant no better mounted, they journeyed on through rough and
+miry ways, and ever when this horse of Katharine's stumbled he
+would storm and swear at the poor jaded beast, who could scarce
+crawl under his burthen, as if he had been the most passionate
+man alive.
+
+At length, after a weary journey, during which Katharine had
+heard nothing but the wild ravings of Petruchio at the servant
+and the horses, they arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed her
+kindly to her home, but he resolved she should have neither rest
+nor food that night. The tables were spread, and supper soon
+served; but Petruchio, pretending to find fault with every dish,
+threw the meat about the floor, and ordered the servants to
+remove it away; and all this he did, as he said, in love for his
+Katharine, that she might not eat meat that was not well dressed.
+And when Katharine, weary and supperless, retired to rest, he
+found the same fault with the bed, throwing the pillows and
+bedclothes about the room, so that she was forced to sit down in
+a chair, where, if, she chanced to drop asleep, she was presently
+awakened by the loud voice of her husband storming at the
+servants for the ill-making of his wife's bridal-bed.
+
+The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking
+kind words to Katharine, but, when she attempted to eat, finding
+fault with everything that was set before her, throwing the
+breakfast on the floor as he had done the supper; and Katharine,
+the haughty Katharine, was fain to beg the servants would bring
+her secretly a morsel of food; but they, being instructed by
+Petruchio, replied they dared not give her anything unknown to
+their master.
+
+"Ah," said she, "did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come
+to my father's door have food given them. But I, who never knew
+what it was to entreat for anything, am starved for want of food,
+giddy for want of sleep, with oaths kept waking, and with
+brawling fed; and that which vexes me more than all, he does it
+under the name of perfect love, pretending that if I sleep or
+eat, it were present death to me."
+
+Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Petruchio.
+He, not meaning she should be quite starved, had brought her a
+small portion of meat, and he said to her:
+
+"How fares my sweet Kate? Here, love, you see how diligent I am.
+I have dressed your meat myself. I am sure this kindness merits
+thanks. What, not a word? Nay, then you love not the meat, and
+all the pains I have taken is to no purpose." He then ordered the
+servant to take the dish away.
+
+Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katharine, made her
+say, though angered to the heart, "I pray you let it stand."
+
+But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he
+replied, "The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall
+mine before you touch the meat."
+
+On this Katharine brought out a reluctant "I thank you, sir."
+
+And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying: "Much
+good may it do your gentle heart, Kate. Eat apace! And now, my
+honey love, we will return to your father's house and revel it as
+bravely as the best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings,
+with ruffs and scarfs and fans and double change of finery." And
+to make her believe be really intended to give her these gay
+things, he called in a tailor and a haberdasher, who brought some
+new clothes he had ordered for her, and then, giving her plate to
+the servant to take away, before she had half satisfied her
+hunger, he said:
+
+"What, have you dined?"
+
+The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, "Here is the cap your
+worship bespoke." On which Petruchio began to storm afresh,
+saying the cap was molded in a porringer and that it was no
+bigger than a cockle or walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to
+take it away and make it bigger.
+
+Katharine said, "I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps
+as these."
+
+"When you are gentle," replied Petruchio, "you shall have one,
+too, and not till then."
+
+The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen
+spirits, and she said: "Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to
+speak, and speak I will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters
+have endured to hear me say my mind; and if you cannot, you had
+better stop your ears."
+
+Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily
+discovered a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a
+jangling argument with her; therefore his answer was:
+
+"Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not
+liking it."
+
+"Love me, or love me not," said Katharine, "I like the cap, and I
+will have this cap or none."
+
+"You say you wish to see the gown," said Petruchio, still
+affecting to misunderstand her.
+
+The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had
+made for her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have
+neither cap nor gown, found as much fault with that.
+
+"Oh, mercy, Heaven!" said he, "what stuff is here! What, do you
+call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down
+like an apple tart."
+
+The tailor said, "You bid me make it according to the fashion of
+the times"; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned
+gown. This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these
+people might be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them
+for the seemingly strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he
+with fierce words and furious gestures drove the tailor and the
+haberdasher out of the room; and then, turning to Katharine, he
+said:
+
+"Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father's even in these
+mean garments we now wear."
+
+And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach
+Baptista's house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven
+o'clock. Now it was not early morning, but the very middle of the
+day, when he spoke this; therefore Katharine ventured to say,
+though modestly, being almost overcome by the vehemence of his
+manner:
+
+"I dare assure you, sir, it is two o'clock, and will be
+suppertime before we get there."
+
+But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that
+she should assent to everything he said before he carried her to
+her father; and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and
+could command the hours, he said it. should be what time he
+pleased to have it, before beset forward. "For," he said,
+"whatever I say or do, you still are crossing it. I will not go
+to-day, and when I go, it shall be what o'clock I say it is."
+
+Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found
+obedience, and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a
+perfect subjection that she dared not remember there was such a
+word as contradiction would Petruchio allow her to go to her
+father's house; and even while they were upon their journey
+thither she was in danger of being turned back again, only
+because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed the
+moon shone brightly at noonday.
+
+"Now, by my mother's son," said be, "and that is myself, it shall
+be the moon, or stars, or what I list, before I journey to your
+father's house." He then made as if he were going back again. But
+Katharine, no longer Katharine the Shrew, but the obedient wife,
+said, "Let us go forward, I pray, now we have come so far, and it
+shall be the sun, or moon, or what you please; and if you please
+to call it a rush candle henceforth, I vow it shall be so for
+me."
+
+This he was resolved to prove, therefore he said again, "I say it
+is the moon."
+
+"I know it is the moon," replied Katharine.
+
+"You lie. It is the blessed sun," said Petruchio.
+
+"Then it is the blessed sun," replied Katharine; "but sun it is
+not when you say it is not. What you will have it named, even so
+it is, and so it ever shall be for Katharine."
+
+Now then he suffered her to proceed on her journey; but further
+to try if this yielding humor would last, he addressed an old
+gentleman they met on the road as if he had been a young woman,
+saying to him, "Good morrow, gentle mistress"; and asked
+Katharine if she had ever beheld a fairer gentlewoman, praising
+the red and white of the old man's cheeks, and comparing his eyes
+to two bright stars; and again he addressed him, saying, "Fair,
+lovely maid, once more good day to you!" and said to his wife,
+"Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake."
+
+The now completely vanquished Katharine quickly adopted her
+husband's opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old
+gentleman, saying to him: "Young budding virgin, you are fair and
+fresh and sweet. Whither are you going, and where is your
+dwelling? Happy are the parents of so fair a child."
+
+"Why, how now, Kate," said Petruchio. "I hope you are not mad.
+This is a man, old and wrinkled, faded and withered, and not a
+maiden, as you say he is."
+
+On this Katharine said, "Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so
+dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seemeth green. Now I
+perceive you are a reverend father. I hope you will pardon me for
+my sad mistake."
+
+"Do, good old grandsire," said Petruchio, "and tell us which way
+you are traveling. We shall be glad of your good company, if you
+are going our way."
+
+The old gentleman replied: "Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
+your strange encounter has much amazed me. My name is Vincentio,
+and I am going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua."
+
+Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of
+Lucentio, a young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista's
+younger daughter, Bianca, and he made Vincentio very happy by
+telling him the rich marriage his son was about to make; and they
+all journeyed on pleasantly together till they came to Baptista's
+house, where there was a large company assembled to celebrate the
+wedding of Bianca and Lucentio, Baptista having willingly
+consented to the marriage of Bianca when he had got Katharine off
+his hands.
+
+When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast,
+and there was present also another newly married pair.
+
+Lucentio, Bianca's husband, and Hortensio, the other new-married
+man, could not forbear sly jests, which seemed to hint at the
+shrewish disposition of Petruchio's wife, and these fond
+bridegrooms seemed highly pleased with the mild tempers of the
+ladies they had chosen, laughing at Petruchio for his less
+fortunate choice. Petruchio took little notice of their jokes
+till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then he perceived
+Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him, for when
+Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than
+theirs, the father of Katharine said, "Now, in good sadness, son
+Petruchio, I fear you have got the veriest shrew of all."
+
+"Well," said Petruchio, "I say no, and therefore, for assurance
+that I speak the truth, let us each one send for his wife, and he
+whose wife is most obedient to come at first when she is sent for
+shall win a wager which we will propose."
+
+To this the other two husbands willingly consented, for they were
+confident that their gentle wives would prove more obedient than
+the headstrong Katharine, and they proposed a wager of twenty
+crowns. But Petruchio merrily said he would lay as much as that
+upon his hawk or hound, but twenty times as much upon his wife.
+Lucentio and Hortensio raised the wager to a hundred crowns, and
+Lucentio first sent his servant to desire Bianca would come to
+him. But the servant returned, and said:
+
+"Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come."
+
+"How," said Petruchio, "does she say she is busy and cannot come?
+Is that an answer for a wife?"
+
+Then they laughed at him, and said it would be well if Katharine
+did not send him a worse answer. And now it was Hortensio's turn
+to send for his wife; and be said to his servant, "Go, and
+entreat my wife to come to me."
+
+"Oh ho! entreat her!" said Petruchio.
+
+"Nay, then, she needs must come."
+
+"I am afraid, sir," said Hortensio, "your wife will not be
+entreated." But presently this civil husband looked a little
+blank when the servant returned without his mistress; and he said
+to him:
+
+"How now? Where is my wife?"
+
+"Sir," said the servant, "my mistress says you have some goodly
+jest in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come
+to her."
+
+"Worse and worse!" said Petruchio. And then he sent his servant,
+saying, "Sirrah, go to your mistress and tell her I command her
+to come to me."
+
+The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this
+summons when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed:
+
+"Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharine!"
+
+And she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio, "What is your will,
+sir, that you send for me?"
+
+"Where is your sister and Hortensio's wife?" said he.
+
+Katharine replied, "They sit conferring by the parlor fire."
+
+"Go, fetch them hither!" said Petruchio.
+
+Away went Katharine without reply to perform her husband's
+command.
+
+"Here is a wonder," said Lucentio, "if you talk of a wonder."
+
+"And so it is," said Hortensio. "I marvel what it bodes."
+
+"Marry, peace it bodes," said Petruchio, "and love, and quiet
+life, and right supremacy; and, to be short, everything that is
+sweet and happy."
+
+Katharine's father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his
+daughter, said: "Now, fair befall thee, son Petruchio! You have
+won the wager, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns to
+her dowry, as if she were another daughter, for she is changed as
+if she had never been."
+
+"Nay," said Petruchio, "I will win the wager better yet, and show
+more signs of her new-built virtue and obedience." Katharine now
+entering with the two ladies, he continued: "See where she comes,
+and brings your froward wives as prisoners to her womanly
+persuasion. Katharine, that cap of yours does not become you; off
+with that bauble, and throw it underfoot."
+
+Katharine instantly took off her cap and threw it down.
+
+"Lord!" said Hortensio's wife, "may I never have a cause to sigh
+till I am brought to such a silly pass!"
+
+And Bianca, she, too, said, "Fie! What foolish duty call you
+this?"
+
+On this Bianca's husband said to her, "I wish your duty were as
+foolish, too! The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, has cost me a
+hundred crowns since dinner-time."
+
+"The more fool you," said Bianca, "for laying on my duty."
+
+"Katharine," said Petruchio, "I charge you tell these headstrong
+women what duty they owe their lords and husbands."
+
+And to the wonder of all present, the reformed shrewish lady
+spoke as eloquently in praise of the wifelike duty of obedience
+as she had practised it implicitly in a ready submission to
+Petruchio's will. And Katharine once more became famous in Padua,
+not as heretofore as Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the
+most obedient and duteous wife in Padua.
+
+
+
+THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+The states of Syracuse and Ephesus being at variance, there was a
+cruel law made at Ephesus, ordaining that if any merchant of
+Syracuse was seen in the city of Ephesus he was to be put to
+death, unless he could pay a thousand marks for the ransom of his
+life.
+
+Aegeon, an old merchant of Syracuse, was discovered in the
+streets of Ephesus, and brought before the duke, either to pay
+this heavy fine or receive sentence of death.
+
+Aegeon had no money to pay the fine, and the duke, before he
+pronounced the sentence of death upon him, desired him to relate
+the history of his life, and to tell for what cause he had
+ventured to come to the city of Ephesus, which it was death for
+any Syracusan merchant to enter.
+
+Aegeon said that he did not fear to die, for sorrow had made him
+weary of his life, but that a heavier task could not have been
+imposed upon him than to relate the events of his unfortunate
+life. He then began his own history, in the following words:
+
+"I was born at Syracuse, and brought up to the profession of a
+merchant. I married a lady, with whom I lived very happily, but,
+being obliged to go to Epidamnum, I was detained there by my
+business six months, and then, finding I should be obliged to
+stay some time longer, I sent for my wife, who, as soon as she
+arrived, was brought to bed of two sons, and what was very
+strange, they were both so exactly alike that it was impossible
+to distinguish the one from the other. At the same time that my
+wife was brought to bed of these twin boys a poor woman in the
+inn where my wife lodged was brought to bed of two sons, and
+these twins were as much like each other as my two sons were. The
+parents of these children being exceeding poor, I bought the two
+boys and brought them up to attend upon my sons.
+
+"My sons were very fine children, and my wife was not a little
+proud of two such boys; and she daily wishing to return home, I
+unwillingly agreed, and in an evil hour we got on shipboard, for
+we had not sailed above a league from Epidamnum before a dreadful
+storm arose, which continued with such violence that the sailors,
+seeing no chance of saving the ship, crowded into the boat to
+save their own lives, leaving us alone in the ship, which we
+every moment expected would be destroyed by the fury of the
+storm.
+
+"The incessant weeping of my wife and the piteous complaints of
+the pretty babes, who, not knowing what to fear, wept for
+fashion, because they saw their mother weep, filled me with
+terror for them, though I did not for myself fear death; and all
+my thoughts were bent to contrive means for their safety. I tied
+my youngest son to the end of a small spire mast, such as
+seafaring men provide against storms; at the other end I bound
+the youngest of the twin slaves, and at the same time I directed
+my wife how to fasten the other children in like manner to
+another mast. She thus having the care of the eldest two
+children, and I of the younger two, we bound ourselves separately
+to these masts with the children; and but for this contrivance we
+had all been lost, for the ship split on a mighty rock and was
+dashed in pieces; and we, clinging to these slender masts, were
+supported above the water, where I, having the care of two
+children, was unable to assist my wife, who, with the other
+children, was soon separated from me; but while they were yet in
+my sight they were taken up by a boat of fishermen, from Corinth
+(as I supposed), and, seeing them in safety, I had no care but to
+struggle with the wild sea-waves, to preserve my dear son and the
+youngest slave. At length we, in our turn, were taken up by a
+ship, and the sailors, knowing me, gave us kind welcome and
+assistance and landed us in safety at Syracuse; but from that sad
+hour I have never known what became of my wife and eldest child.
+
+"My youngest son, and now my only care, when he was eighteen
+years of age, began to be inquisitive after his mother and his
+brother, and often importuned me that he might take his
+attendant, the young slave, who had also lost his brother, and
+go in search of them. At length I unwillingly gave consent, for,
+though I anxiously desired to hear tidings of my wife and eldest
+son, yet in sending my younger one to find them I hazarded the
+loss of him also. It is now seven years since my son left me;
+five years have I passed in traveling through the world in search
+of him. I have been in farthest Greece, and through the bounds of
+Asia, and, coasting homeward, I landed here in Ephesus, being
+unwilling to leave any place unsought that harbors men; but this
+day must end the story of my life, and happy should I think
+myself in my death if I were assured my wife and sons were
+living."
+
+Here the hapless Aegeon ended the account of his misfortunes; and
+the duke, pitying this unfortunate father who had brought upon
+himself this great peril by his love for his lost son, said if it
+were not against the laws, which his oath and dignity did not
+permit him to alter, he would freely pardon him; yet, instead of
+dooming him to instant death, as the strict letter of the law
+required, he would give him that day to try if he could beg or
+borrow the money to pay the fine.
+
+This day of grace did seem no great favor to Aegeon, for, not
+knowing any man in Ephesus, there seemed to him but little chance
+that any stranger would lend or give him a thousand marks to pay
+the fine; and, helpless and hopeless of any relief, he retired
+from the presence of the duke in the custody of a jailer.
+
+Aegeon supposed he knew no person in Ephesus; but at the time he
+was in danger of losing his life through the careful search he
+was making after his youngest son that son, and his eldest son
+also, were in the city of Ephesus.
+
+Aegeon's sons, besides being exactly alike in face and person,
+were both named alike, being both called Antipholus, and the two
+twin slaves were also both named Dromio. Aegeon's youngest son,
+Antipholus of Syracuse, he whom the old man had come to Ephesus
+to seek, happened to arrive at Ephesus with his slave Dromio that
+very same day that Aegeon did; and he being also a merchant of
+Syracuse, he would have been in the same danger that his father
+was, but by good fortune he met a friend who told him the peril
+an old merchant of Syracuse was in, and advised him to pass for a
+merchant of Epidamnum. This Antipholus agreed to do, and he was
+sorry to hear one of his own countrymen was in this danger, but
+he little thought this old merchant was his own father.
+
+The eldest son of Aegeon (who must be called Antipholus of
+Ephesus, to distinguish him from his brother Antipholus of
+Syracuse) had lived at Ephesus twenty years, and, being a rich
+man, was well able to have paid the money for the ransom of his
+father's life; but Antipholus knew nothing of his father, being
+so young when he was taken out of the sea with his mother by the
+fishermen that he only remembered he had been so preserved; but
+he had no recollection of either his father or his mother, the
+fishermen who took up this Antipholus and his mother and the
+young slave Dromio having carried the two children away from her
+(to the great grief of that unhappy lady), intending to sell
+them.
+
+Antipholus and Dromio were sold by them to Duke Menaphon, a
+famous warrior, who was uncle to the Duke of Ephesus, and he
+carried the boys to Ephesus when he went to visit the duke, his
+nephew.
+
+The Duke of Ephesus, taking a liking to young Antipholus, when he
+grew up made him an officer in his army, in which he
+distinguished himself by his great bravery in the wars, where he
+saved the life of his patron, the duke, who rewarded his merit by
+marrying him to Adriana, a rich lady of Ephesus, with whom he was
+living (his slave Dromio still attending him) at the time his
+father came there.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse, when he parted with his friend, who,
+advised him to say he came from Epidamnum, gave his slave Dromio
+some money to carry to the inn where he intended to dine, and in
+the mean time he said he would walk about and view the city and
+observe the manners of the people.
+
+Dromio was a pleasant fellow, and when Antipholus was dull and
+melancholy he used to divert himself with the odd humors and
+merry jests of his slave, so that the freedoms of speech he
+allowed in Dromio were greater than is usual between masters and
+their servants.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had sent Dromio away, he stood awhile
+thinking over his solitary wanderings in search of his mother and
+his brother, of whom in no place where he landed could he hear
+the least tidings; and he said sorrowfully to himself, "I am like
+a drop of water in the ocean. which, seeking to find its fellow
+drop, loses itself in the wide sea, So I, unhappily, to find a
+mother and a brother, do lose myself."
+
+While he was thus meditating on his weary travels, which had
+hitherto been so useless, Dromio (as he thought) returned.
+Antipholus, wondering that he came back so soon, asked him where
+he had left the money. Now it was not his own Dromio, but the
+twin-brother that lived with Antipholus of Ephesus, that he spoke
+to. The two Dromios and the two Antipholuses were still as much
+alike as Aegeon had said they were in their infancy; therefore no
+wonder Antipholus thought it was his own slave returned, and
+asked him why he came back so soon.
+
+Dromio replied: "My mistress sent me to bid you come to dinner.
+The capon burns, and the pig falls from the spit, and the meat
+will be all cold if you do not come home."
+
+"These jests are out of season," said Antipholus. "Where did you
+leave the money?"
+
+Dromio still answering that his mistress had sent him to fetch
+Antipholus to dinner, "What mistress?" said Antipholus.
+
+"Why, your worship's wife, sir!" replied Dromio.
+
+Antipholus having no wife, he was very angry with Dromio, and
+said: "Because I familiarly sometimes chat with you, you presume
+to jest with me in this free manner. I am not in a sportive humor
+now. Where is the money? We being strangers here, how dare you
+trust so great a charge from your own custody?"
+
+Dromio, hearing his master, as he thought him, talk of their
+being strangers, supposing Antipholus was jesting, replied,
+merrily: "I pray you, sir, jest as you sit at dinner. I had no
+charge but to fetch you home to dine with my mistress and her
+sister."
+
+Now Antipholus lost all patience, and beat Dromio, who ran home
+and told his mistress that his master had refused to come to
+dinner and said that he had no wife.
+
+Adriana, the wife of Antipholus of Ephesus, was very angry when
+she heard that her husband said he had no wife; for she was of a
+jealous temper, and she said her husband meant that he loved
+another lady better than herself; and she began to fret, and say
+unkind words of jealousy and reproach of her husband; and her
+sister Luciana, who lived with her, tried in vain to persuade her
+out of her groundless suspicions.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse went to the inn, and found Dromio with the
+money in safety there, and, seeing his own Dromio, he was going
+again to chide him for his free jests, when Adriana came up to
+him, and, not doubting but it was her husband she saw, she began
+to reproach him for looking strange upon her (as well he might,
+never having seen this angry lady before); and then she told him
+how well he loved her before they were married, and that now he
+loved some other lady instead of her.
+
+"How comes it now, my husband," said she, "oh, how comes it that
+I have lost your love?"
+
+"Plead you to me, fair dame?" said the astonished Antipholus.
+
+It was in vain he told her he was not her husband and that he had
+been in Ephesus but two hours. She insisted on his going home
+with her, and Antipholus at last, being unable to get away, went
+with her to his brother's house, and dined with Adriana and her
+sister, the one calling him husband and the other brother, he,
+all amazed, thinking he must have been married to her in his
+sleep, or that he was sleeping now. And Dromio, who followed
+them, was no less surprised, for the cook-maid, who was his
+brother's wife, also claimed him for her husband.
+
+While Antipholus of Syracuse was dining with his brother's wife,
+his brother, the real husband, returned home to dinner with his
+slave Dromio; but the servants would not open the door, because
+their mistress had ordered them not to admit any company; and
+when they repeatedly knocked, and said they were Antipholus and
+Dromio, the maids laughed at them, and said that Antipholus was
+at dinner with their mistress, and Dromio was in the kitchen, and
+though they almost knocked the door down, they could not gain
+admittance, and at last Antipholus went away very angry, and
+strangely surprised at, hearing a gentleman was dining with his
+wife.
+
+When Antipholus of Syracuse had finished his dinner, he was so
+perplexed at the lady's still persisting in calling him husband,
+and at hearing that Dromio had also been claimed by the cookmaid,
+that he left the house as soon as he could find any pretense to
+get away; for though he was very much pleased with Luciana, the
+sister, yet the jealous-tempered Adriana he disliked very much,
+nor was Dromio at all better satisfied with his fair wife in the
+kitchen; therefore both master and man were glad to get away from
+their new wives as fast as they could.
+
+The moment Antipholus of Syracuse had left the house he was met
+by a goldsmith, who, mistaking him, as Adriana had done, for
+Antipholus of Ephesus, gave him a gold chain, calling him by his
+name; and when Antipholus would have refused the chain, saying it
+did not belong to him, the goldsmith replied he made it by his
+own orders, and went away, leaving the chain in the hands of
+Antipholus, who ordered his man Dromio to get his things on board
+a ship, not choosing to stay in a place any longer where he met
+with such strange adventures that he surely thought himself
+bewitched.
+
+The goldsmith who had given the chain to the wrong Antipholus was
+arrested immediately after for a sum of money he owed; and
+Antipholus, the married brother, to whom the goldsmith thought he
+had given the chain, happened to come to the place where the
+officer was arresting the goldsmith, who, when he saw Antipholus,
+asked him to pay for the gold chain he had just delivered to him,
+the price amounting to nearly the same sum as that for which he
+had been arrested. Antipholus denying the having received the
+chain, and the goldsmith persisting to declare that he had but a
+few minutes before given it to him, they disputed this matter a
+long time, both thinking they were right; for Antipholus knew the
+goldsmith never gave him the chain, and so like were the two
+brothers, the goldsmith was as certain he had delivered the chain
+into his hands, till at last the officer took the goldsmith away
+to prison for the debt he owed, and at the same time the
+goldsmith made the officer arrest Antipholus for the price of the
+chain; so that at the conclusion of their dispute Antipholus and
+the merchant were both taken away to prison together.
+
+As Antipholus was going to prison, he met Dromio of Syracuse, his
+brother's slave, and, mistaking him for his own, he ordered him
+to go to Adriana his wife, and tell her to send the money for
+which he was arrested. Dromio, wondering that his master should
+send him back to the strange house where he dined, and from which
+he had just before been in such haste to depart, did not dare to
+reply, though he came to tell his master the ship was ready to
+sail, for he saw Antipholus was in no humor to be jested with.
+Therefore he went away, grumbling within himself that he must
+return to Adriana's house, "Where," said he, "Dowsabel claims me
+for a husband. But I must go, for servants must obey their
+masters' commands."
+
+Adriana gave him the money, and as Dromio was returning he met
+Antipholus of Syracuse, who was still in amaze at the surprising
+adventures he met with, for, his brother being well known in
+Ephesus, there was hardly a man he met in the streets but saluted
+him as an old acquaintance. Some offered him money which they
+said was owing to him, some invited him to come and see them, and
+some gave him thanks for kindnesses they said he had done them,
+all mistaking him for his brother. A tailor showed him some silks
+he had bought for him, and insisted upon taking measure of him
+for some clothes.
+
+Antipholus began to think he was among a nation of sorcerers and
+witches, and Dromio did not at all relieve his master from his
+bewildered thoughts by asking him how he got free from the
+officer who was carrying him to prison, and giving him the purse
+of gold which Adriana had sent to pay the debt with. This talk of
+Dromio's of the arrest and of a prison, and of the money he had
+brought from Adriana, perfectly confounded Antipholus, and he
+said, "This fellow Dromio is certainly distracted, and we wander
+here in illusions," and, quite terrified at his own confused
+thoughts, he cried out, "Some blessed power deliver us from this
+strange place!"
+
+And now another stranger came up to him, and she was a lady, and
+she, too, called him Antipholus, and told him he had dined with
+her that day, and asked him for a gold chain which she said he
+had promised to give her. Antipholus now lost all patience, and,
+calling her a sorceress, he denied that he had ever promised her
+a chain, or dined with her, or had even seen her face before that
+moment. The lady persisted in affirming he had dined with her and
+had promised her a chain, which Antipholus still denying, she
+further said that she had given him a valuable ring, and if he
+would not give her the gold chain, she insisted upon having her
+own ring again. On this Antipholus became quite frantic, and
+again calling her sorceress and witch, and denying all knowledge
+of her or her ring, ran away from her, leaving her astonished at
+his words and his wild looks, for nothing to her appeared more
+certain than that he had dined with her, and that she had given
+him a ring in consequence of his promising to make her a present
+of a gold chain. But this lady had fallen into the same mistake
+the others had done, for she had taken him for his brother; the
+married Antipholus had done all the things she taxed this
+Antipholus with.
+
+When the married Antipholus was denied entrance into his house
+(those within supposing him to be already there) be had gone away
+very angry, believing it to be one of his wife's jealous freaks,
+to which she was very subject, and, remembering that she had
+often falsely accused him of visiting other ladies, he, to be
+revenged on her for shutting him out of his own house, determined
+to go and dine with this lady, and she receiving him with great
+civility, and his wife having so highly offended him, Antipholus
+promised to give her a gold chain which he had intended as a
+present for his wife; it was the same chain which the goldsmith
+by mistake had given to his brother. The lady liked so well the
+thoughts of having a fine gold chain that she gave the married
+Antipholus a ring; which when, as she supposed (taking his
+brother for him), he denied, and said he did not know her, and
+left her in such a wild passion, she began to think he was
+certainly out of his senses; and presently she resolved to go and
+tell Adriana that her husband was mad. And while she was telling
+it to Adriana he came, attended by the jailer (who allowed him to
+come home to get the money to pay the debt), for the purse of
+money which Adriana had sent by Dromio and he had delivered to
+the other Antipholus.
+
+Adriana believed the story the lady told her of her husband's
+madness must be true when he reproached her for shutting him out
+of his own house; and remembering how he had protested all
+dinner-time that he was not her husband and had never been in
+Ephesus till that day, she had no doubt that he was mad; she
+therefore paid the jailer the money, and, having discharged him,
+she ordered her servants to bind her husband with ropes, and had
+him conveyed into a dark room, and sent for a doctor to come and
+cure him of his madness, Antipholus all the while hotly
+exclaiming against this false accusation, which the exact
+likeness he bore to his brother had brought upon him. But his
+rage only the more confirmed them in the belief that he was mad;
+and Dromio persisting in the same story, they bound him also and
+took him away along with his master.
+
+Soon after Adriana had put her husband into confinement a servant
+came to tell her that Antipholus and Dromio must have broken
+loose from their keepers, for that they were both walking at
+liberty in the next street. On hearing this Adriana ran out to
+fetch him home, taking some people with her to secure her husband
+again; and her sister went along with her. When they came to the
+gates of a convent in their neighborhood, there they saw
+Antipholus and Dromio, as they thought, being again deceived by
+the likeness of the twin brothers.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse was still beset with the perplexities this
+likeness had brought upon him. The chain which the goldsmith had
+given him was about his neck, and the goldsmith was reproaching
+him for denying that he had it and refusing to pay for it, and
+Antipholus was protesting that the goldsmith freely gave him the
+chain in the morning, and that from that hour he had never seen
+the goldsmith again.
+
+And now Adriana came up to him and claimed him as her lunatic
+husband who had escaped from his keepers, and the men she brought
+with her were going to lay violent hands on Antipholus and
+Dromio; but they ran into the convent, and Antipholus begged the
+abbess to give him shelter in her house.
+
+And now came out the lady abbess herself to inquire into the
+cause of this disturbance. She was a grave and venerable lady,
+and wise to judge of what she saw, and she would not too hastily
+give up the man who had sought protection in her house; so she
+strictly questioned the wife about the story she told of her
+husband's madness, and she said:
+
+"What is the cause of this sudden distemper of your husband's?
+Has he lost his wealth at sea? Or is it the death of some dear
+friend that has disturbed his mind?"
+
+Adriana replied that no such things as these had been the cause.
+
+"Perhaps," said the abbess, "he has fixed his affections on some
+other lady than you, his wife, and that has driven him to this
+state."
+
+Adriana said she had long thought the love of some other lady was
+the cause of his frequent absences from home.
+
+Now it was not his love for another, but the teasing jealousy of
+his wife's temper, that often obliged Antipholus to leave his
+home; and the abbess (suspecting this from the vehemence of
+Adriana's manner), to learn the truth, said:
+
+"You should have reprehended him for this."
+
+"Why, so I did," replied Adriana.
+
+"Aye," said the abbess, "but perhaps not enough."
+
+Adriana, willing to convince the abbess that she had said enough
+to Antipholus on this subject, replied: "It was the constant
+subject of our conversation; in bed I would not let him sleep for
+speaking of it. At table I would not let him eat for speaking of
+it. When I was alone with him I talked of nothing else; and in
+company I gave him frequent hints of it. Still all my talk was
+how vile and bad it was in him to love any lady better than me."
+
+The lady abbess, having drawn this full confession from the
+jealous Adriana, now said: "And therefore comes it that your
+husband is mad. The venomous clamor of a jealous woman is a more
+deadly poison than a mad dog's tooth. It seems his sleep was
+hindered by your railing; no wonder that his head is light; and
+his meat was sauced with your upbraidings; unquiet meals make ill
+digestions, and that has thrown him into this fever. You say his
+sports were disturbed by your brawls; being debarred from the
+enjoyment of society and recreation, what could ensue but dull
+melancholy and comfortless despair? The consequence is, then,
+that your jealous fits have made your husband mad."
+
+Luciana would have excused her sister, saying she always
+reprehended her husband mildly; and she said to her sister, "Why
+do you hear these rebukes without answering them?"
+
+But the abbess had made her so plainly perceive her fault that
+she could only answer, "She has betrayed me to my own reproof."
+
+Adriana, though ashamed of her own conduct, still insisted on
+having her husband delivered up to her; but the abbess would
+suffer no person to enter her house, nor would she deliver up
+this unhappy man to the care of the jealous wife, determining
+herself to use gentle means for his recovery, and she retired
+into her house again, and ordered her gates to be shut against
+them.
+
+During the course of this eventful day, in which so many errors
+had happened from the likeness the twin brothers bore to each
+other, old  Aegeon's day of grace was passing away, it being now
+near sunset; and at sunset he was doomed to die if he could not
+pay the money.
+
+The place of his execution was near this convent, and here he
+arrived just as the abbess retired into the convent; the duke
+attending in person, that, if any offered to pay the money, he
+might be present to pardon him.
+
+Adriana stopped this melancholy procession, and cried out to the
+duke for justice, telling him that the abbess had refused to
+deliver up her lunatic husband to her care. While she was
+speaking, her real husband and his servant, Dromio, who had got
+loose, came before the duke to demand justice, complaining that
+his wife had confined him on a false charge of lunacy, and
+telling in what manner he had broken his bands and eluded the
+vigilance of his keepers. Adriana was strangely surprised to see
+her husband when she thought he had been within the convent.
+
+Aegeon, seeing his son, concluded this was the son who had left
+him to go in search of his mother and his brother, and he felt
+secure that this dear son would readily pay the money demanded
+for his ransom. He therefore spoke to Antipholus in words of
+fatherly affection, with joyful hope that he should now be
+released. But, to the utter astonishment of Aegeon, his son
+denied all knowledge of him, as well he might, for this
+Antipholus had never seen his father since they were separated in
+the storm in his infancy. But while the poor old Aegeon was in
+vain endeavoring to make his son acknowledge him, thinking surely
+that either his griefs and the anxieties he had suffered had so
+strangely altered him that his son did not know him or else that
+he was ashamed to acknowledge his father in his misery--in the
+midst of this perplexity the lady abbess and the other Antipholus
+and Dromio came out, and the wondering Adriana saw two husbands
+and two Dromios standing before her.
+
+And now these riddling errors, which had so perplexed them all,
+were clearly made out. When the duke saw the two Antipholuses and
+the two Dromios both so exactly alike, he at once conjectured
+aright of these seeming mysteries, for he remembered the story
+Aegeon had told him in the morning; and he said these men must be
+the two sons of Aegeon and their twin slaves.
+
+But now an unlooked-for joy indeed completed the history of
+Aegeon; and the tale he had in the morning told in sorrow, and
+under sentence of death, before the setting sun went down was
+brought to a happy conclusion, for the venerable lady abbess made
+herself known to be the long-lost wife of Aegeon and the fond
+mother of the two Antipholuses.
+
+When the fishermen took the eldest Antipholus and Dromio away
+from her, she entered a nunnery, and by her wise and virtuous
+conduct she was at length made lady abbess of this convent and in
+discharging the rites of hospitality to an unhappy stranger she
+had unknowingly protected her own son.
+
+Joyful congratulations and affectionate greetings between these
+long-separated parents and their children made them for a while
+forget that Aegeon was yet under sentence of death. When they
+were become a little calm, Antipholus of Ephesus offered the duke
+the ransom money for his father's life; but the duke freely
+pardoned Aegeon, and would not take the money. And the duke went
+with the abbess and her newly found husband and children into the
+convent, to hear this happy family discourse at leisure of the
+blessed ending of their adverse fortunes. And the two Dromios'
+humble joy must not be forgotten; they had their congratulations
+and greetings, too, and each Dromio pleasantly complimented his
+brother on his good looks, being well pleased to see his own
+person (as in a glass) show so handsome in his brother.
+
+Adriana had so well profited by the good counsel of her
+mother-in-law that she never after cherished unjust suspicions
+nor was jealous of her husband.
+
+Antipholus of Syracuse married the fair Luciana, the sister of
+his brother's wife; and the good old Aegeon, with his wife and
+sons, lived at Ephesus many years. Nor did the unraveling of
+these perplexities so entirely remove every ground of mistake for
+the future but that sometimes, to remind them of adventures past,
+comical blunders would happen, and the one Antipholus, and the
+one Dromio, be mistaken for the other, making altogether a
+pleasant and diverting Comedy of Errors.
+
+
+
+MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild
+and gentle temper that he suffered his subjects to neglect the
+laws with impunity; and there was  in particular one law the
+existence of  which was almost forgotten, the duke never having
+put it in force during his  whole reign. This was a law dooming
+any man to the punishment of death who should live with a woman
+that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of the
+duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage
+became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke
+by the parents of the young ladies in Vienna that their daughters
+had been seduced from their protection and were living as the
+companions of single men.
+
+The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his
+subjects; but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the
+indulgence he had hitherto shown, to the strict severity
+requisite to check this abuse, would make his people (who had
+hitherto loved him) consider him as a tyrant; therefore he
+determined to absent himself awhile from his dukedom and depute
+another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against
+these dishonorable lovers might be put in effect, without giving
+offense by an unusual severity in his own person.
+
+Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for
+his strict and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person
+to undertake this important charge; and when the duke imparted
+his design to Lord Escalus, his chief counselor, Escalus said:
+
+"If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and
+honor, it is Lord Angelo."
+
+And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretense of making a
+journey into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in
+his absence; but the duke's absence was only a feigned one, for
+he privately returned to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the
+intent to watch unseen the conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.
+
+It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his
+new dignity that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced
+a young lady from her parents; and for this offense, by command
+of the new lord deputy, Claudio was taken up and committed to
+prison, and by virtue of the old law which had been so long
+neglected Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded. Great interest
+was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good old Lord
+Escalus himself interceded for him.
+
+"Alas!" said he, "this gentleman whom I would save had an
+honorable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young
+man's transgression."
+
+But Angelo replied: "We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it
+harmless, makes it their perch and not their terror. Sir, he must
+die."
+
+Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and
+Claudio said to him: "I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service.
+Go to my sister Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the
+convent of Saint Clare; acquaint her with the danger of my state;
+implore her that she make friends with the strict deputy; bid her
+go herself to Angelo. I have great hopes in that; for she can
+discourse with prosperous art, and well she can persuade;
+besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow such as
+moves men."
+
+Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered
+upon her novitiate in the convent, and it was her intent, after
+passing through her probation as a novice, to take the veil, and
+she was inquiring of a nun concerning the rules of the convent
+when they heard the voice of Lucio, who, as he entered that
+religious house, said, "Peace be in this place!"
+
+"Who is it that speaks?" said Isabel.
+
+"It is a man's voice," replied the nun. "Gentle Isabel, go to
+him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you have
+taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence
+of the prioress; then if you speak you must not show your face,
+or if you show your face you must not speak."
+
+"And have you nuns no further privileges?" said Isabel.
+
+"Are not these large enough?" replied the nun.
+
+"Yes, truly," said Isabel. "I speak not as desiring more, but
+rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the
+votarists of Saint Clare."
+
+Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said: "He calls
+again. I pray you answer him."
+
+Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation,
+said: "Peace and Prosperity! Who is it that calls?"
+
+Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said: "Hail, virgin,
+if such you be, as the roses on your cheeks proclaim you are no
+less! Can you bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this
+place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?"
+
+"Why her unhappy brother?" said Isabel, "let me ask! for I am
+that Isabel and his sister."
+
+"Fair and gentle lady," he replied, "your brother kindly greets
+you by me; he is in prison."
+
+"Woe is me! for what?" said Isabel.
+
+Lucio then told her Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young
+maiden. "Ah," said she, "I fear it is my cousin Juliet."
+
+Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other
+cousin in remembrance of their school-days' friendship; and as
+Isabel knew that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been
+led by her affection for him into this transgression.
+
+"She it is," replied Lucio.
+
+"Why, then, let my brother marry Juliet," said Isabel.
+
+Lucio replied that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that
+the lord deputy had sentenced him to die for his offense.
+"Unless," said he, "you have the grace by your fair prayer to
+soften Angelo, and that is my business between you and your poor
+brother."
+
+"Alas!" said Isabel, "what poor ability is there in me to do him
+good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo."
+
+"Our doubts are traitors," said Lucio, "and make us lose the good
+we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to Lord Angelo!
+When maidens sue and kneel and weep men give like gods."
+
+"I will see what I can do said Isabel. "I will but stay to give
+the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.
+Commend me to my brother. Soon at night I will send him word of
+my success."
+
+Isabel hastened to the palace and threw herself on her knees
+before Angelo, saying, "I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, if it
+will please your Honor to hear me."
+
+"Well, what is your suit?" said Angelo.
+
+She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her
+brother's life.
+
+But Angelo said, "Maiden, there is no remedy; your brother is
+sentenced, and he must die."
+
+"Oh, just but severe law!" said Isabel. "I had a brother then.
+Heaven keep your Honor!" and she was about to depart.
+
+But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said: "Give it not over so;
+return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang
+upon his gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you
+could not with a more tame tongue desire it."
+
+Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy.
+
+"He is sentenced," said Angelo. "It is too late."
+
+"Too late!" said Isabel. "Why, no! I that do speak a word may
+call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
+great ones belongs, not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
+the marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, becomes them with
+one half so good a grace as mercy does."
+
+"Pray you begone," said Angelo.
+
+But still Isabel entreated; and she said: "If my brother had been
+as you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he,
+like you, would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had
+your power and you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I
+would tell you what it were to be a judge, and what a prisoner."
+
+"Be content, fair maid!" said Angelo: "it is the law, not I,
+condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son,
+it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow?" said Isabel. "Oh, that is sudden! Spare him, spare
+him. He is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we kill
+the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than
+we minister to our gross selves? Good, good, my lord, bethink
+you, none have died for my brother's offense, though many have
+committed it. So you would be the first that gives this sentence
+and he the first that suffers it. Go to your own bosom, my lord;
+knock there, and ask your heart what it does know that is like my
+brother's fault; if it confess a natural guiltiness such as his
+is, let it not sound a thought against my brother's life!"
+
+Her last words more moved Angelo than all she had before said,
+for the beauty of Isabel had raised a guilty passion in his heart
+and he began to form thoughts of dishonorable love, such as
+Claudio's crime had been, and the conflict in his mind made him
+to turn away from Isabel; but she called him back, saying:
+"Gentle my lord, turn back. Hark, how I will bribe you. Good my
+lord, turn back!"
+
+"How! bribe me?" said Angelo, astonished that she should think of
+offering him a bribe.
+
+"Aye," said Isabel, "with such gifts that Heaven itself shall
+share with you; not with golden treasures, or those glittering
+stones whose price is either rich or poor as fancy values them,
+but with true prayers that shall be up to Heaven before
+sunrise--prayers from preserved souls, from fasting maids whose
+minds are dedicated to nothing temporal."
+
+"Well, come to me to-morrow," said Angelo.
+
+And for this short respite of her brother's life, and for this
+permission that she might be heard again, she left him with the
+joyful hope that she should at last prevail over his stern
+nature. And as she went away she said: "Heaven keep your Honor
+safe! Heaven save your Honor!" Which, when Angelo heard, he said
+within his heart, "Amen, I would be saved from thee and from thy
+virtues." And then, affrighted at his own evil thoughts, he said:
+"What is this? What is this? Do I love her, that I desire to hear
+her speak again and feast upon her eyes? What is it I dream on?
+The cunning enemy of mankind, to catch a saint, with saints does
+bait the hook. Never could an immodest woman once stir my temper,
+but this virtuous woman subdues me quite. Even till now, when men
+were fond, I smiled and wondered at them."
+
+In the guilty conflict in his mind Angelo suffered more that
+night than the prisoner he had so severely sentenced; for in the
+prison Claudio was visited by the good duke, who, in his friar's
+habit, taught the young man the way to heaven, preaching to him
+the words of penitence and peace. But Angelo felt all the pangs
+of irresolute guilt, now wishing to seduce Isabel from the paths
+of innocence and honor, and now suffering remorse and horror for
+a crime as yet but intentional. But in the end his evil thoughts
+prevailed; and he who had so lately started at the offer of a
+bribe resolved to tempt this maiden with so high a bribe as she
+might not be able to resist, even with the precious gift of her
+dear brother's life.
+
+When Isabel came in the morning Angelo desired she might be
+admitted alone to his presence; and being there, he said to her,
+if she would yield to him her virgin honor and transgress even as
+Juliet had done with Claudio, he would give her her brother's
+life.
+
+"For," said he, "I love you, Isabel."
+
+"My brother," said Isabel, "did so love Juliet, and yet you tell
+me he shall die for it."
+
+"But," said Angelo, "Claudio shall not die if you will consent to
+visit me by stealth at night, even as Juliet left her father's
+house at night to come to Claudio."
+
+Isabel, in amazement at his words, that he should tempt her to
+the same fault for which he passed sentence upon her brother,
+said, "I would do as much for my poor brother as for myself; that
+is, were I under sentence of death, the impression of keen whips
+I would wear as rubies, and go to my death as to a bed that
+longing I had been sick for, ere I would yield myself up to this
+shame." And then she told him she hoped he only spoke these words
+to try her virtue.
+
+But he said, "Believe me, on my honor, my words express my
+purpose."
+
+Isabel, angered to the heart to hear him use the word honor to
+express such dishonorable purposes, said: "Ha! little honor to be
+much believed; and most pernicious purpose. I will proclaim thee,
+Angelo, look for it! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or
+I will tell the world aloud what man thou art!"
+
+"Who will believe you, Isabel?" said Angelo; "my unsoiled name,
+the austereness of my life, my word vouched against yours, will
+outweigh your accusation. Redeem your brother by yielding to my
+will, or he shall die to-morrow. As for you, say what you can, my
+false will overweigh your true story. Answer me to-morrow."
+
+"To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe
+me?" said Isabel, as she went toward the dreary prison where her
+brother was confined. When she arrived there her brother was in
+pious conversation with the duke, who in his friar's habit had
+also visited Juliet and brought both these guilty lovers to a
+proper sense of their fault; and unhappy Juliet with tears and a
+true remorse confessed that she was more to blame than Claudio,
+in that she willingly consented to his dishonorable
+solicitations.
+
+As Isabel entered the room where Claudio was confined, she said,
+"Peace be here, grace, and good company!"
+
+"Who is there?" said the disguised duke. "Come in; the wish
+deserves a welcome."
+
+"My business is a word or two with Claudio," said Isabel.
+
+Then the duke left them together, and desired the provost who had
+the charge of the prisoners to place him where he might overhear
+their conversation.
+
+"Now, sister, what is the comfort?" said Claudio.
+
+Isabel told him he must prepare for death on the morrow.
+
+"Is there no remedy?" said Claudio.
+
+"Yes, brother," replied Isabel, "there is; but such a one as if
+you consented to it would strip your honor from you and leave you
+naked."
+
+"Let me know the point," said Claudio.
+
+"Oh, I do fear you, Claudio!" replied his sister; "and I quake,
+lest you should wish to live, and more respect the trifling term
+of six or seven winters added to your life than your perpetual
+honor! Do you dare to die? The sense of death is most in
+apprehension, and the poor beetle that we tread upon feels a pang
+as great as when a giant dies."
+
+"Why do you give me this shame?" said Claudio. "Think you I can
+fetch a resolution from flowery tenderness? If I must die, I will
+encounter darkness as a bride and hug it in my arms."
+
+"There spoke my brother," said Isabel; "there my father's grave
+did utter forth a voice! Yes, you must die; yet would you think
+it, Claudio, this outward sainted deputy, if I would yield to him
+my virgin honor, would grant your life? Oh, were it but my life,
+I would lay it down for your deliverance as frankly as a pin!"
+
+"Thanks, dear Isabel," said Claudio.
+
+"Be ready to die to-morrow," said Isabel.
+
+"Death is a fearful thing," said Claudio.
+
+"And shamed life a hateful," replied his sister.
+
+But the thoughts of death now overcame the constancy of Claudio's
+temper, and terrors, such as the guilty only at their deaths do
+know, assailing him, he cried out: "Sweet sister, let me live!
+The sin you do to save a brother's life, nature dispenses with
+the deed so far that it becomes a virtue."
+
+"O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!" said Isabel. "Would you
+preserve your life by your sister's shame? Oh, fie, fie, fie! I
+thought, my brother, you had in you such a mind of honor that,
+had you twenty heads to render up on twenty blocks, you would
+have yielded them up all before your sister should stoop to such
+dishonor."
+
+"Nay, hear me, Isabel!" said Claudio.
+
+But what he would have said in defense of his weakness in
+desiring to live by the dishonor of his virtuous sister was
+interrupted by the entrance of the duke; who said:
+
+"Claudio, I have overheard what has passed between you and your
+sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; what he
+said, has only been to make trial of her virtue. She, having the
+truth of honor in her, has given him that gracious denial which
+he is most ill glad to receive. There is no hope that he will
+pardon you; therefore pass your hours in prayer, and make ready
+for death."
+
+Then Claudio repented of his weakness, and said: "Let me ask my
+sister's pardon! I am so out of love with life that I will sue to
+be rid of it." And Claudio retired, overwhelmed with shame and
+sorrow for his fault.
+
+The duke, being now alone with Isabel, commended her virtuous
+resolution, saying, "The hand that made you fair has made you
+good."
+
+"Oh," said Isabel, "how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo!
+If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will discover his
+government." Isabel knew not that she was even now making the
+discovery she threatened.
+
+The duke replied: "That shall not be much amiss; yet as the
+matter now stands, Angelo will repel your accusation; therefore
+lend an attentive ear to my advisings. I believe that you may
+most righteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem
+your brother from the angry law, do no stain to your own most
+gracious person, and much please the absent duke, if peradventure
+he shall ever return to have notice of this business."
+
+Isabel said she had a spirit to do anything he desired, provided
+it was nothing wrong.
+
+"Virtue is bold and never fearful," said the duke: and then he
+asked her, if she had ever heard of Mariana, the sister of
+Frederick, the great soldier who was drowned at sea.
+
+"I have heard of the lady," said Isabel, "and good words went
+with her name."
+
+"This lady," said the duke, "is the wife of Angelo; but her
+marriage dowry was on board the vessel in which her brother
+perished, and mark how heavily this befell to the poor
+gentlewoman! for, besides the loss of a most noble and renowned
+brother, who in his love toward her was ever most kind and
+natural, in the wreck of her fortune she lost the affections of
+her husband, the well-seeming Angelo, who, pretending to discover
+some dishonor in this honorable lady (though the true cause was
+the loss of her dowry), left her in her tears and dried not one
+of them with his comfort. His unjust unkindness, that in all
+reason should have quenched her love, has, like an impediment in
+the current, made it more unruly, and Mariana loves her cruel
+husband with the full continuance of her first affection."
+
+The duke then more plainly unfolded his plan. It was that Isabel
+should go to Lord Angelo and seemingly consent to come to him as
+he desired at midnight; that by this means she would obtain the
+promised pardon; and that Mariana should go in her stead to the
+appointment, and pass herself upon Angelo in the dark for Isabel.
+
+"Nor, gentle daughter," said the feigned friar, "fear you to this
+thing. Angelo is her husband, and to bring them thus together is
+no sin.
+
+Isabel, being pleased with this project, departed to do as he
+directed her; and he went to apprise Mariana of their intention.
+He had before this time visited this unhappy lady in his assumed
+character, giving her religious instruction and friendly
+consolation, at which times he had learned her sad story from her
+own lips; and now she, looking upon him as a holy man, readily
+consented to be directed by him in this undertaking.
+
+When Isabel returned from her interview with Angelo, to the house
+of Mariana, where the duke had appointed her to meet him, he
+said: "Well met, and in good time. What is the news from this
+good deputy?"
+
+Isabel related the manner in which she had settled the affair.
+"Angelo," said she, "has a garden surrounded with a brick wall,
+on the western side of which is a vineyard, and to that vineyard
+is a gate." And then she showed to the duke and Mariana two keys
+that Angelo had given her; and she said: "This bigger key opens
+the vineyard gate; this other a little door which leads from the
+vineyard to the garden. There I have made my promise at the dead
+of the night to call upon him, and have got from him his word of
+assurance for my brother's life. I have taken a due and wary note
+of the place; and with whispering and most guilty diligence he
+showed me the way twice over."
+
+"Are there no other tokens agreed upon between you, that Mariana
+must observe?" said the duke.
+
+"No, none," said Isabel, "only to go when it is dark. I have told
+him my time can be but short; for I have made him think a servant
+comes along with me, and that this servant is persuaded I come
+about my brother."
+
+The duke commended her discreet management, and she, turning to
+Mariana, said, "Little have you to say to Angelo, when you depart
+from him, but soft and low, REMEMBER NOW MY BROTHER!"
+
+Mariana was that night conducted to the appointed place by
+Isabel, who rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by this
+device preserved both her brother's life and her own honor. But
+that her brother's life was safe the duke was not well satisfied,
+and therefore at midnight he again repaired to the prison, and it
+was well for Claudio that he did so, else would Claudio have that
+night been beheaded; for soon after the duke entered the prison
+an order came from the cruel deputy commanding that Claudio
+should be beheaded and his head sent to him by five o'clock in
+the morning. But the duke persuaded the provost to put off the
+execution of Claudio, and to deceive Angelo by sending him the
+head of a man who died that morning in the prison. And to prevail
+upon the provost to agree to this, the duke, whom still the
+provost suspected not to be anything more or greater than he
+seemed, showed the provost a letter written with the duke's hand,
+and sealed with his seal, which when the provost saw, he
+concluded this friar must have some secret order from the absent
+duke, and therefore he consented to spare Claudio; and he cut off
+the dead man's head and carried it to Angelo.
+
+Then the duke in his own name wrote to Angelo a letter saying
+that certain accidents had put a stop to his journey and that he
+should be in Vienna by the following morning, requiring Angelo to
+meet him at the entrance of the city, there to deliver up his
+authority; and the duke also commanded it to be proclaimed that
+if any of his subjects craved redress for injustice they should
+exhibit their petitions in the street on his first entrance into
+the city.
+
+Early in the morning Isabel came to the prison, and the duke, who
+there awaited her coming, for secret reasons thought it good to
+tell her that Claudio was beheaded; therefore when Isabel
+inquired if Angelo had sent the pardon for her brother, he said:
+
+"Angelo has released Claudio from this world. His head is off and
+sent to the deputy."
+
+The much-grieved sister cried out, "O unhappy Claudio, wretched
+Isabel, injurious world, most wicked Angelo!"
+
+The seeming friar bid her take comfort, and when she was become a
+little calm he acquainted her with the near prospect of  the
+duke's return and told her in what manner she should proceed in
+preferring her complaint against Angelo; and he bade her not fear
+if the cause should seem to go against her for a while. Leaving
+Isabel sufficiently instructed, he next went to Mariana and gave
+her counsel in what manner she also should act.
+
+Then the duke laid aside his friar's habit, and in his own royal
+robes, amid a joyful crowd of his faithful subjects assembled to
+greet his arrival, entered the city of Vienna, where he was met
+by Angelo, who delivered up his authority in the proper form. And
+there came Isabel, in the manner of a petitioner for redress, and
+said:
+
+"Justice, most royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who,
+for the seducing a young maid, was condemned to lose his head. I
+made my suit to lord Angelo for my brother's pardon. It were
+needless to tell your Grace how I prayed and kneeled, how he
+repelled me, and how I replied; for this was of much length. The
+vile conclusion I now begin with grief and pain to utter. Angelo
+would not, but by my yielding to his dishonorable love, release
+my brother; and after much debate within myself my sisterly
+remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him. But the next
+morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his promise, sent a warrant
+for my poor brother's head!"
+
+The duke affected to disbelieve her story; and Angelo said that
+grief for her brother's death, who had suffered by the due course
+of the law, had disordered her senses.
+
+And now another suitor approached, which was Mariana; and Mariana
+said: "Noble prince, as there comes light from heaven and truth
+from breath, as there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am
+this man's wife, and, my good lord, the words of Isabel are
+false, for the night she says she was with Angelo I passed that
+night with him in the garden-house. As this is true let me in
+safety rise, or else forever be fixed here a marble monument."
+
+Then did Isabel appeal for the truth of what she had said to
+Friar Lodowick, that being the name the duke had assumed in his
+disguise. Isabel and Mariana had both obeyed his instructions in
+what they said, the duke intending that the innocence of Isabel
+should be plainly proved in that public manner before the whole
+city of Vienna; but Angelo little thought that it was from such a
+cause that they thus differed in their story, and he hoped from
+their contradictory evidence to be able to clear himself from the
+accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming the look of offended
+innocence:
+
+"I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is
+touched, and I perceive these poor, distracted women are but the
+instruments of some greater one who sets them on. Let me have
+way, my lord, to find this practice out."
+
+"Aye, with all my heart," said the duke, "and punish them to the
+height of your pleasure. You, Lord Escalus, sit with Lord Angelo,
+lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for
+that set them on, and when he comes do with your injuries as may
+seem best in any chastisement. I for a while will leave you, but
+stir not you, Lord Angelo, till you have well determined upon
+this slander." The duke then went away, leaving Angelo well
+pleased to be deputed judge and umpire in his own cause. But the
+duke was absent only while he threw off his royal robes and put
+on his friar's habit; and in that disguise again he presented
+himself before Angelo and Escalus. And the good old Escalus, who
+thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed
+friar, "Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord
+Angelo?"
+
+He replied: "Where is the duke? It is he who should hear me
+speak."
+
+Escalus said: "The duke is in us, and we will hear you. Speak
+justly."
+
+"Boldly, at least," retorted the friar; and then he blamed the
+duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had
+accused, and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had
+observed while, as he said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna,
+that, Escalus threatened, him with the torture for speaking words
+against the state and for censuring the conduct of the duke, and
+ordered him to be taken away to prison. Then, to the amazement of
+all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the supposed
+friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke
+himself.
+
+The duke first addressed Isabel. He said to her: "Come hither,
+Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have
+not changed my heart. I am still devoted to your service."
+
+"Oh, give me pardon," said Isabel, "that I, your vassal, have
+employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty."
+
+He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her for not
+having prevented the death of her brother for not yet would he
+tell her that Claudio was living; meaning first to make a further
+trial of her goodness.
+
+Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad
+deeds, and be said: "O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than
+my guiltiness, to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive
+your Grace, like power divine, has looked upon my actions. Then,
+good prince, no longer prolong my shame, but let my trial be my
+own confession. Immediate sentence and death is all the grace I
+beg."
+
+The duke replied: "Angelo, thy faults are manifest. We do condemn
+thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with
+like haste away with him; and for his possessions, Mariana, we do
+instate and widow you withal, to buy you a better husband."
+
+"O my dear lord," said Mariana, "I crave no other, nor no better
+man!" And then on her knees, even as Isabel had begged the life
+of Claudio, did this kind wife of an ungrateful husband beg the
+life of Angelo; and she said: "Gentle my liege, O good my lord!
+Sweet Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees and all my life to
+come I will lend you all my life, to do you service!"
+
+The duke said: "Against all sense you importune her. Should
+Isabel kneel down to beg for mercy, her brother's ghost would
+break his paved bed and take her hence in horror."
+
+Still Mariana said: "Isabel, sweet Isabel, do but kneel by me,
+hold up your hand, say nothing! I will speak all. They say best
+men are molded out of faults, and for the most part become much
+the better for being a little bad. So may my husband. O Isabel!
+will you not lend a knee?"
+
+The duke then said, "He dies for Claudio." But much pleased was
+the good duke when his own Isabel, from whom he expected all
+gracious and honorable acts, kneeled down before him, and said:
+"Most bounteous sir, look, if it please you, on this man
+condemned, as if my brother lived. I partly think a due sincerity
+governed his deeds till he did look on me. Since it is so, let
+him not die! My brother had but justice in that he did the thing
+for which he died."
+
+The duke, as the best reply he could make to this noble
+petitioner for her enemy's life, sending for Claudio from his
+prisonhouse, where he lay doubtful of his destiny, presented to
+her this lamented brother living; and he said to Isabel: "Give me
+your hand, Isabel. For your lovely sake I pardon Claudio. Say you
+will be mine, and he shall be my brother, too."
+
+By this time Lord Angelo perceived he was safe; and the duke,
+observing his eye to brighten up a little, said:
+
+"Well, Angelo, look that you love your wife; her worth has
+obtained your pardon. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I
+have confessed her and know her virtue."
+
+Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief authority, how
+hard his heart had been, and felt how sweet is mercy.
+
+The duke commanded Claudio to marry Juliet, and offered himself
+again to the acceptance of Isabel, whose virtuous and noble
+conduct had won her prince's heart. Isabel, not having taken the
+veil, was free to marry; and the friendly offices, while hid
+under the disguise of a humble friar, which the noble duke had
+done for her, made her with grateful joy accept the honor he
+offered her; and when she became Duchess of Vienna the excellent
+example of the virtuous Isabel worked such a complete reformation
+among the young ladies of that city, that from that time none
+ever fell into the transgression of Juliet, the repentant wife of
+the reformed Claudio. And the mercy-loving duke long reigned with
+his beloved Isabel, the happiest of husbands and of princes.
+
+
+
+TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
+
+Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of
+Messaline, were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder)
+from their birth they so much resembled each other that, but for
+the difference in their dress, they could not be known apart.
+They were both born in one hour, and in one hour they were both
+in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on the coast of
+Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship on
+board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and
+a very small number of the ship's company escaped with their
+lives. The captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that
+were saved, got to land in a small boat, and with them they
+brought Viola safe on shore, where she, poor lady, instead of
+rejoicing at her own deliverance, began to lament her brother's
+loss; but the captain comforted her with the assurance that he
+had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten himself to a
+strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of him
+for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves.
+Viola was much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and
+now considered bow she was to dispose of herself in a strange
+country, so far from home; and she asked the captain if he knew
+anything of Illyria.
+
+"Aye, very well, madam," replied the captain, "for I was born not
+three hours' travel from this place."
+
+"Who governs here?" said Viola. The captain told her Illyria was
+governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.
+
+Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he
+was unmarried then.
+
+"And he is so now," said the captain; "or was so very late for,
+but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
+talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of)
+that Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the
+daughter of a count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to
+the protection of her brother, who shortly after died also; and
+for the love of this dear brother, they say, she has abjured the
+sight and company of men."
+
+Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother's
+loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly
+mourned a brother's death. She asked the captain if be could
+introduce her to Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this
+lady. But he replied this would be a hard thing to accomplish,
+because the Lady Olivia would admit no person into her house
+since her brother's death, not even the duke himself. Then Viola
+formed another project in her mind, which was, in a man's habit,
+to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange fancy in a
+young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
+forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of
+uncommon beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her
+excuse.
+
+She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he
+showed a friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her
+design, and he readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him
+money and directed him to furnish her with suitable apparel,
+ordering her clothes to be made of the same color and in the same
+fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and when she was
+dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her brother
+that some strange errors happened by means of their being
+mistaken for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian
+was also saved.
+
+Viola's good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
+pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got
+her presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The
+duke was wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful
+deportment of this handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his
+pages, that being the office Viola wished to obtain; and she so
+well fulfilled the duties of her new station, and showed such a
+ready observance and faithful attachment to her lord, that she
+soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
+confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To
+Cesario he told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one
+who, rejecting his long services and despising his person,
+refused to admit him to her presence; and for the love of this
+lady who had so unkindly treated him the noble Orsino, forsaking
+the sports of the field and all manly exercises in which he
+used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth, listening to
+the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and passionate
+love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
+lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long
+conversing with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his
+grave courtiers thought Cesario was for their once noble master,
+the great Duke Orsino.
+
+It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes
+of handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her
+sorrow, for all that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she
+presently perceived she suffered for the love of him, and much it
+moved her wonder that Olivia could be so regardless of this her
+peerless lord and master, whom she thought no one could behold
+without the deepest admiration, and she ventured gently to hint
+to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a lady who was so
+blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:
+
+"If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
+perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in
+return) would you not tell her that you could not love, and must
+she not be content with this answer?"
+
+But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that
+it was possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no
+woman's heart was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore
+it was unfair to compare the love of any lady for him to his love
+for Olivia. Now, though Viola had the utmost deference for the
+duke's opinions, she could not help thinking this was not quite
+true, for she thought her heart had full as much love in it as
+Orsino's had; and she said:
+
+"Ah, but I know, my lord."
+
+"What do you know, Cesario?" said Orsino.
+
+"Too well I know," replied Viola, "what love women may owe to
+men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a
+daughter loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love
+your lordship."
+
+"And what is her history?" said Orsino.
+
+"A blank, my lord," replied Viola. "She never told her love, but
+let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
+cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow
+melancholy she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at
+Grief."
+
+The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this
+question Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had
+feigned the story, to speak words expressive of the secret love
+and silent grief she suffered for Orsino.
+
+While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had
+sent to Olivia, and he said, "So please you, my lord, I might not
+be admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you
+this answer: Until seven years hence the element itself shall not
+behold her face; but like a cloistress she will walk veiled,
+watering her chamber with her tears for the sad remembrance of
+her dead brother."
+
+On hearing this the duke exclaimed, "Oh, she that has a heart of
+this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how
+will she love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!"
+
+And then he said to Viola: "You know, Cesario, I have told you
+all the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to
+Olivia's house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell
+her there your fixed foot shall grow till you have audience."
+
+"And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?" said Viola.
+
+"Oh, then," replied Orsino, "unfold to her the passion of my
+love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well
+become you to act my woes, for she will attend more to you than
+to one of graver aspect."
+
+ Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this
+courtship, for she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she
+wished to marry; but, having undertaken the affair, she performed
+it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard that a youth was at her
+door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.
+
+"I told him," said the servant, "that you were sick. He said he
+knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told
+him that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of
+that, too, and said that therefore he must speak with you. What
+is to be said to him, lady? for he seems fortified against all
+denial, and will speak with you, whether you will or no."
+
+Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be,
+desired be might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her
+face, she said she would once more hear Orsino's embassy, not
+doubting but that he came from the duke, by his importunity.
+Viola, entering, put on the most manly air she could assume, and,
+affecting the fine courtier language of great men's pages, she
+said to the veiled lady:
+
+"Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell
+me if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to
+cast away my speech upon another; for besides that it is
+excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to learn it."
+
+"Whence come you, sir?" said Olivia.
+
+"I can say little more than I have studied," replied Viola, and
+that question is out of my part."
+
+"Are you a comedian?" said Olivia.
+
+"No," replied Viola; "and yet I am not that which I play,"
+meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man. And
+again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.
+
+Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see
+her rival's features than haste to deliver her master's message,
+said, "Good madam, let me see your face." With this bold request
+Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom
+the Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight
+conceived a passion for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.
+
+When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, "Have you any
+commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?"
+And then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven
+long years, she drew aside her veil, saying: "But I will draw the
+curtain and show the picture. Is it not well done?"
+
+Viola replied: "It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
+your cheeks is by Nature's own cunning hand laid on. You are the
+most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and
+leave the world no copy."
+
+"Oh, sir," replied Olivia, "I will not be so cruel. The world may
+have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
+red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin;
+and so forth. Were you sent here to praise me?"
+
+Viola replied, "I see what you are: you are too proud, but you
+are fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but
+be recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for
+Orsino loves you with adoration and with tears, with groans that
+thunder love, and sighs of fire."
+
+"Your lord," said Olivia, "knows well my mind. I cannot love him;
+yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
+high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him
+learned, courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might
+have taken his answer long ago."
+
+"If I did love you as my master does," said Viola, "I would make
+me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I would
+write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
+the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would
+make Echo, the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh,
+you should not rest between the elements of earth and air, but
+you should pity me."
+
+"You might do much," said Olivia. "What is your parentage?'"
+
+Viola replied: "Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
+gentleman."
+
+Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: "Go to your
+master and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more,
+'unless perchance you come again to tell me how he takes it."
+
+And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair
+Cruelty. When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY
+FORTUNES, YET MY STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said
+aloud, "I will be sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs,
+action, and spirit plainly show he is a gentleman." And then she
+wished Cesario was the duke; and, perceiving the fast hold he had
+taken on her affections, she blamed herself for her sudden love;
+but the gentle blame which people lay upon their own faults has
+no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so far forgot
+the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
+page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament
+of a lady's character, that she resolved to court the love of
+young Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring,
+under the pretense that he had left it with her as a present from
+Orsino. She hoped by thus artfully making Cesario a present of
+the ring she should give him some intimation of her design; and
+truly it did make Viola suspect; for, knowing that Orsino had
+sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that Olivia's looks
+and manner were expressive of admiration, and she presently
+guessed her master's mistress had fallen in love with her.
+
+"Alas!" said she, "the poor lady might as well love a dream.
+Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
+fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino."
+
+Viola returned to Orsino's palace, and related to her lord the
+ill success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia
+that the duke should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke
+persisted in hoping that the gentle Cesario would in time be able
+to persuade her to show some pity, and therefore he bade him he
+should go to her again the next day. In the mean time, to pass
+away the tedious interval, he commanded a song which he loved to
+be sung; and he said:
+
+"My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
+did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and
+plain. The spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun,
+and the young maids that weave their thread with bone, chant this
+song. It is silly, yet I love it, for it tells of the innocence
+of love in the old times."
+
+   SONG
+
+  Come away, come away, Death,
+    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+  Fly away, fly away, breath,
+    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
+My part of death no one so true did share it.
+  Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
+    On my black coffin let there be strewn:
+  Not a friend, not a friend greet
+    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
+A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where
+Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
+
+Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in
+such true simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and
+she bore testimony in her countenance of feeling what the song
+expressed. Her sad looks were observed by Orsino, who said to
+her:
+
+"My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
+looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?"
+
+"A little, with your leave," replied Viola.
+
+"And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?" said Orsino.
+
+"Of your age and of your complexion, my lord," said Viola; which
+made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
+much older than himself and of a man's dark complexion; but Viola
+secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.
+
+When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no
+difficulty in gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when
+their ladies delight to converse with handsome young messengers;
+and the instant Viola arrived the gates were thrown wide open,
+and the duke's page was shown into Olivia's apartment with great
+respect. And when Viola told Olivia that she was come once more
+to plead in her lord's behalf, this lady said:
+
+"I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
+undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music
+from the spheres."
+
+This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself
+still more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she
+saw displeasure with perplexity expressed in Viola's face, she
+said: "Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt
+and anger of his lip! Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by
+maidhood, honor, and by truth, I love you so that, in spite of
+your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to conceal my passion."
+
+But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence,
+threatening never more to come to plead Orsino's love; and all
+the reply she made to Olivia's fond solicitation was, a
+declaration of a resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.
+
+No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her
+valor. A gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned
+how that lady had favored the duke's messenger, challenged him to
+fight a duel. What should poor Viola do, who, though she carried
+a man-like outside, had a true woman's heart and feared to look
+on her own sword?
+
+When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his
+sword drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a
+woman; but she was relieved at once from her terror, and the
+shame of such a discovery, by a stranger that was passing by, who
+made up to them, and as if he had been long known to her and were
+her dearest friend said to her opponent:
+
+"If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault
+on me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you."
+
+Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to
+inquire the reason of his kind interference, her new friend met
+with an enemy where his bravery was of no use to him; for the
+officers of justice coming up in that instant, apprehended the
+stranger in the duke's name, to answer for an offense he had
+committed some years before; and he said to Viola:
+
+"This comes with seeking you." And then he asked her for a purse,
+saying: "Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
+grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what
+befalls myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort."
+
+His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him
+not, nor had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness
+he had just shown her she offered him a small sum of money, being
+nearly the whole she possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe
+things, charging her with ingratitude and unkindness. He said:
+
+"This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death,
+and for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into
+this danger."
+
+But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of
+their prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, "What is that
+to us?" And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name
+of Sebastian, reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning
+his friend, as long as he was within hearing. When Viola heard
+herself called Sebastian, though the stranger was taken away too
+hastily for her to ask an explanation, she conjectured that this
+seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken for her
+brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
+whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was.
+The stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had
+taken Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with
+fatigue, he was floating on the mast to which he had fastened
+himself in the storm. Antonio conceived such a friendship for
+Sebastian that he resolved to accompany him whithersoever he
+went; and when the youth expressed a curiosity to visit Orsino's
+court, Antonio, rather than part from him, came to Illyria,
+though he knew, if his person should be known there, his life
+would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
+dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino's nephew. This was the
+offense for which he was now made a prisoner.
+
+Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before
+Antonio met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring
+him to use it freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase,
+telling him he would wait at the inn while Sebastian went to view
+the town; but, Sebastian not returning at the time appointed,
+Antonio had ventured out to look for him, and, priest made Orsino
+believe that his page had robbed him of the treasure he prized
+above his life. But thinking that it was past recall, he was
+bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
+DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to
+come in his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle
+appeared! for another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as
+his wife. This new Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of
+Olivia; and when their wonder had a little ceased at seeing two
+persons with the same face, the same voice, and the same habit,
+the brother and sister began to question each other; for Viola
+could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living, and
+Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed
+drowned being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola
+presently acknowledged that she was indeed Viola, and his sister,
+under that disguise.
+
+When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness
+between this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at
+the Lady Olivia for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling
+in love with a woman; and Olivia showed no dislike to her
+exchange, when she found she had wedded the brother instead of
+the sister.
+
+The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of
+Olivia, and with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to
+vanish away, and all his thoughts were fixed on the event of his
+favorite, young Cesario, being changed into a fair lady. He
+viewed Viola with great attention, and he remembered how very
+handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he concluded she
+would look very beautiful in a woman's attire; and then he
+remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the
+time seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but
+now he guessed that something more was meant, for many of her
+pretty sayings, which were like riddles to him, came now into his
+mind, and he no sooner remembered all these things than he
+resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to her (he still
+could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):
+
+"Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
+love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have
+done for me so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and
+since you have called me master so long, you shall now be your
+master's mistress, and Orsino's true duchess."
+
+Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she
+had so ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her
+house and offered the assistance of the good priest who had
+married her to Sebastian in the morning to perform the same
+ceremony in the remaining part of the day for Orsino and Viola.
+Thus the twin brother and sister were both wedded on the same
+day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them being the
+means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
+was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the
+husband of the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.
+
+
+
+TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+Timon, a lord of Athens, in the enjoyment of a princely fortune,
+affected a humor of liberality which knew no limits. His almost
+infinite wealth could not flow in so fast but he poured it out
+faster upon all sorts and degrees of people. Not the poor only
+tasted of his bounty, but great lords did not disdain to rank
+themselves among his dependents and followers. His table was
+resorted to by all the luxurious feasters, and his house was open
+to all comers and goers at Athens. His large wealth combined with
+his free and prodigal nature to subdue all hearts to his love;
+men of all minds and dispositions tendered their services to Lord
+Timon, from the glass-faced flatterer whose face reflects as in a
+mirror the present humor of his patron, to the rough and
+unbending cynic who, affecting a contempt of men's persons and an
+indifference to worldly things, yet could not stand out against
+the gracious manners and munificent soul of Lord Timon, but would
+come (against his nature) to partake of his royal entertainments
+and return most rich in his own estimation if he had received a
+nod or a salutation from Timon.
+
+If a poet had composed a work which wanted a recommendatory
+introduction to the world, he had no more to do but to dedicate
+it to Lord Timon, and the poem was sure of sale, besides a
+present purse from the patron, and daily access to his house and
+table. If a painter had a picture to dispose of he had only to
+take it to Lord Timon and pretend to consult his taste as to the
+merits of it; nothing more was wanting to persuade the liberal-
+hearted lord to buy it. If a jeweler had a stone of price, or a
+mercer rich, costly stuffs, which for their costliness lay upon
+his hands, Lord Timon's house was a ready mart always open, where
+they might get off their wares or their jewelry at any price, and
+the good-natured lord would thank them into the bargain, as if
+they had done him a piece of courtesy in letting him have the
+refusal of such precious commodities. So that by this means his
+house was thronged with superfluous purchases, of no use but to
+swell uneasy and ostentatious pomp; and his person was still more
+inconveniently beset with a crowd of these idle visitors, lying
+poets, painters, sharking tradesmen, lords, ladies, needy
+courtiers, and expectants, who continually filled his lobbies,
+raining their fulsome flatteries in whispers in his ears,
+sacrificing to him with adulation as to a God, making sacred the
+very stirrup by which he mounted his horse, and seeming as though
+they drank the free air but through his permission and bounty.
+
+Some of these daily dependents were young men of birth who (their
+means not answering to their extravagance) had been put in prison
+by creditors and redeemed thence by Lord Timon; these young
+prodigals thenceforward fastened upon his lordship, as if by
+common sympathy he were necessarily endeared to all such
+spendthrifts and loose livers, who, not being able to follow him
+in his wealth, found it easier to copy him in prodigality and
+copious spending of what was their own. One of these flesh-flies
+was Ventidius, for whose debts, unjustly contracted, Timon but
+lately had paid down the sum of five talents.
+
+But among this confluence, this great flood of visitors, none
+were more conspicuous than the makers of presents and givers of
+gifts. It was fortunate for these men if Timon took a fancy to a
+dog or a horse, or any piece of cheap furniture which was theirs.
+The thing so praised, whatever it was, was sure to be sent the
+next morning with the compliments of the giver for Lord Timon's
+acceptance, and apologies for the unworthiness of the gift; and
+this dog or horse, or whatever it might be, did not fail to
+produce from Timon's bounty, who would not be outdone in gifts,
+perhaps twenty dogs or horses, certainly presents of far richer
+worth, as these pretended donors knew well enough, and that their
+false presents were but the putting out of so much money at large
+and speedy interest. In this way Lord Lucius had lately sent to
+Timon a present of four milk-white horses, trapped in silver,
+which this cunning lord had observed Timon upon some occasion to
+commend; and another lord, Lucullus, had bestowed upon him in the
+same pretended way of free gift a brace of greyhounds whose make
+and fleetness Timon had been heard to admire; these presents the
+easy-hearted lord accepted without suspicion of the dishonest
+views of the presenters; and the givers of course were rewarded
+with some rich return, a diamond or some jewel of twenty times
+the value of their false and mercenary donation.
+
+Sometimes these creatures would go to work in a more direct way,
+and with gross and palpable artifice, which yet the credulous
+Timon was too blind to see, would affect to admire and praise
+something that Timon possessed, a bargain that he had bought, or
+some late purchase, which was sure to draw from this yielding and
+soft-hearted lord a gift of the thing commended, for no service
+in the world done for it but the easy expense of a little cheap
+and obvious flattery. In this way Timon but the other day had
+given to one of these mean lords the bay courser which he himself
+rode upon, because his lordship had been pleased to say that it
+was a handsome beast and went well; and Timon knew that no man
+ever justly praised what he did not wish to possess. For Lord
+Timon weighed his friends' affection with his own, and so fond
+was he of bestowing, that be could have dealt kingdoms to these
+supposed friends and never have been weary.
+
+Not that Timon's wealth all went to enrich these wicked
+flatterers; he could do noble and praiseworthy actions; and when
+a servant of his once loved the daughter of a rich Athenian, but
+could not hope to obtain her by reason that in wealth and rank
+the maid was so far above him, Lord Timon freely bestowed upon
+his servant three Athenian talents, to make his fortune equal
+with the dowry which the father of the young maid demanded of him
+who should be her husband. But for the most part, knaves and
+parasites had the command of his fortune, false friends whom he
+did not know to be such, but, because they flocked around his
+person, he thought they must needs love him; and because they
+smiled and flattered him, he thought surely that his conduct was
+approved by all the wise and good. And when be was feasting in
+the midst of all these flatterers and mock friends, when they
+were eating him up and draining his fortunes dry with large
+draughts of richest wines drunk to his health and prosperity, be
+could not perceive the difference of a friend from a flatterer,
+but to his deluded eyes (made proud with the sight) it seemed a
+precious comfort to have so many like brothers commanding one
+another's fortunes (though it was his own fortune which paid all
+the costs), and with joy they would run over at the spectacle of
+such, as it appeared to him, truly festive and fraternal meeting.
+
+But while he thus outwent the very heart of kindness, and poured
+out his bounty, as if Plutus, the god of gold, had been but his
+steward; while thus he proceeded without care or stop, so
+senseless of expense that he would neither inquire how he could
+maintain it nor cease his wild flow of riot--his riches, which
+were not infinite, must needs melt away before a prodigality
+which knew no limits. But who should tell him so? His flatterers?
+They had an interest in shutting his eyes. In vain did his honest
+steward Flavius try to represent to him his condition, laying his
+accounts before him, begging of him, praying of him, with an
+importunity that on any other occasion would have been unmannerly
+in a servant, beseeching him with tears to look into the state of
+his affairs. Timon would still put him off, and turn the
+discourse to something else; for nothing is so deaf to
+remonstrance as riches turned to poverty, nothing is so unwilling
+to believe its situation, nothing so incredulous to its own true
+state, and hard to give credit to a reverse. Often had this good
+steward, this honest creature, when all the rooms of Timon's
+great house had been choked up with riotous feeders at his
+master's cost, when the floors have wept with drunken spilling of
+wine, and every apartment has blazed with lights and resounded
+with music and feasting, often had he retired by himself to some
+solitary spot, and wept faster than the wine ran from the
+wasteful casks within, to see the mad bounty of his lord, and to
+think, when the means were gone which brought him praises from
+all sorts of people, how quickly the breath would be gone of
+which the praise was made; praises won in feasting would be lost
+in fasting, and at one cloud of winter-showers these flies would
+disappear.
+
+But now the time was come that Timon could shut his ears no
+longer to the representations of this faithful steward. Money
+must be had; and when he ordered Flavius to sell some of his land
+for that purpose, Flavius informed him, what he had in vain
+endeavored at several times before to make him listen to, that
+most of his land was already sold or forfeited, and that all he
+possessed at present was not enough to pay the one-half of what
+he owed. Struck with wonder at this presentation, Timon hastily
+replied:
+
+"My lands extend from Athens to Lacedoemon."
+
+"O my good lord," said Flavius, "the world is but a world, and
+has bounds. Were it all yours to give in a breath, how quickly
+were it gone!"
+
+Timon consoled himself that no villainous bounty had yet come
+from him, that if he had given his wealth away unwisely, it had
+not been bestowed to feed his vices, but to cherish his friends;
+and he bade the kind-hearted steward (who was weeping) to take
+comfort in the assurance that his master could never lack means
+while he had so many noble friends; and this infatuated lord
+persuaded himself that he had nothing to do but to send and
+borrow, to use every man's fortune (that had ever tasted his
+bounty) in this extremity, as freely as his own. Then with a
+cheerful look, as if confident of the trial, he severally
+despatched messengers to Lord Lucius, to Lords Lucullus and
+Sempronius, men upon whom he had lavished his gifts in past times
+without measure or moderation; and to Ventidius, whom he had
+lately released out of prison by paying his debts, and who, by
+the death of his father, was now come into the possession of an
+ample fortune and well enabled to requite Timon's courtesy; to
+request of Ventidius the return of those five talents which he
+had paid for him, and of each of those noble lords the loan
+of fifty talents; nothing doubting that their gratitude would
+supply his wants (if he needed it) to the amount of five hundred
+times fifty talents.
+
+Lucullus was the first applied to. This mean lord had been
+dreaming overnight of a silver bason and cup, and when Timon's
+servant was announced his sordid mind suggested to him that this
+was surely a making out of his dream, and that Timon had sent him
+such a present. But when he understood the truth of the matter,
+and that Timon wanted money, the quality of his faint and
+watery friendship showed itself, for with many protestations he
+vowed to the servant that he had long foreseen the ruin of his
+master's affairs, and many a time had he come to dinner to tell
+him of it, and had come again to supper to try to persuade him to
+spend less, but he would take no counsel nor warning by his
+coming. And true it was that he had been a constant attender (as
+he said) at Timon's feasts, as he had in greater things tasted
+his bounty; but that he ever came with that intent, or gave good
+counsel or reproof to Timon, was a base, unworthy lie, which he
+suitably followed up with meanly offering the servant a bribe to
+go home to his master and tell him that be had not found Lucullus
+at home.
+
+As little success had the messenger who was sent to Lord Lucius.
+This lying lord, who was full of Timon's meat and enriched almost
+to bursting with Timon's costly presents, when he found the wind
+changed, and the fountain of so much bounty suddenly stopped, at
+first could hardly believe it; but on its being confirmed he
+affected great regret that he should not have it in his power to
+serve Lord Timon, for, unfortunately (which was a base
+falsehood), he had made a great purchase the day before, which
+had quite disfurnished him of the means at present, the more
+beast he, he called himself, to put it out of his power to serve
+so good a friend; and he counted it one of his greatest
+afflictions that his ability should fail him to pleasure such an
+honorable gentleman.
+
+Who can call any man friend that dips in the same dish with him?
+Just of this metal is every flatterer. In the recollection of
+everybody Timon had been a father to this Lucius, had kept up his
+credit with his purse; Timon's money had gone to pay the wages of
+his servants, to pay the hire of the laborers who had sweat to
+build the fine houses which Lucius's pride had made necessary to
+him. Yet---oh, the monster which man makes himself when he proves
+ungrateful!--this Lucius now denied to Timon a sum which, in
+respect of what Timon had bestowed on him, was less than
+charitable men afford to beggars.
+
+Sempronius, and every one of these mercenary lords to whom Timon
+applied in their turn, returned the same evasive answer or direct
+denial; even Ventidius, the redeemed and now rich Ventidius,
+refused to assist him with the loan of those five talents which
+Timon had not lent but generously given him in his distress.
+
+Now was Timon as much avoided in his poverty as he had been
+courted and resorted to in his riches. Now the same tongues which
+had been loudest in his praises, extolling him as bountiful,
+liberal, and open-handed, were not ashamed to censure that very
+bounty as folly, that liberality as profuseness, though it had
+shown itself folly in nothing so truly as in the selection of
+such unworthy creatures as themselves for its objects. Now was
+Timon's princely mansion forsaken and become a shunned and hated
+place, a place for men to pass by, not a place, as formerly,
+where every passenger must stop and taste of his wine and good
+cheer; now, instead of being thronged with feasting and
+tumultuous guests, it was beset with impatient and clamorous
+creditors, usurers, extortioners, fierce and intolerable in their
+demands, pleading bonds, interest, mortgages; iron-hearted men
+that would take no denial nor putting off, that Timon's house was
+now his jail, which he could not pass, nor go in nor out for
+them; one demanding his due of fifty talents, another bringing in
+a bill of five thousand crowns, which, if he would tell out his
+blood by drops and pay them so, he had not enough in his body to
+discharge, drop by drop.
+
+In this desperate and irremediable state (as it seemed) of his
+affairs, the eyes of all men were suddenly surprised at a new and
+incredible luster which this setting sun put forth. Once more
+Lord Timon proclaimed a feast, to which he invited his accustomed
+guests--lords, ladies, all that was great or fashionable in
+Athens. Lord Lucius and Lucullus came, Ventidius, Sempronius, and
+the rest. Who more sorry now than these fawning wretches, when
+they found (as they thought) that Lord Timon's poverty was all
+pretense and had been only put on to make trial of their loves,
+to think that they should not have seen through the artifice at
+the time and have had the cheap credit of obliging his lordship?
+Yet who more glad to find the fountain of that noble bounty which
+they had thought dried up, still fresh and running? They came
+dissembling, protesting, expressing deepest sorrow and shame,
+that when his lordship sent to them they should have been so
+unfortunate as to want the present means to oblige so honorable a
+friend. But Timon begged them not to give such trifles a thought,
+for he had altogether forgotten it. And these base, fawning
+lords, though they had denied him money in his adversity, yet
+could not refuse their presence at this new blaze of his
+returning prosperity. For the swallow follows not summer more
+willingly than men of these dispositions follow the good fortunes
+of the great, nor more willingly leaves winter than these shrink
+from the first appearance of a reverse. Such summer birds are
+men. But now with music and state the banquet of smoking dishes
+was served up; and when the guests had a little done admiring
+whence the bankrupt Timon could find means to furnish so costly a
+feast, some doubting whether the scene which they saw was real,
+as scarce trusting their own eyes, at a signal given the dishes
+were uncovered and Timon's drift appeared. Instead of those
+varieties and far-fetched dainties which they expected, that
+Timon's epicurean table in past times had so liberally presented,
+now appeared under the covers of these dishes a preparation more
+suitable to Timon's poverty--nothing but a little smoke and
+lukewarm water, fit feast for this knot of mouth-friends, whose
+professions were indeed smoke, and their hearts lukewarm and
+slippery as the water with which Timon welcomed his astonished
+guests, bidding them, "Uncover, dogs, and lap;" and, before they
+could recover their surprise, sprinkling it in their faces, that
+they might have enough, and throwing dishes and all after them,
+who now ran huddling out, lords, ladies, with their caps snatched
+up in haste, a splendid confusion, Timon pursuing them, still
+calling them what they were, "smooth smiling parasites,
+destroyers under the mask of courtesy, affable wolves, meek
+bears, fools of fortune, feast-friends, time-flies." They,
+crowding out to avoid him, left the house more willingly
+than they had entered it; some losing their gowns and caps, and
+some their jewels in the hurry, all glad to escape out of the
+presence of such a mad lord, and from the ridicule of his mock
+banquet.
+
+This was the last feast which ever Timon made, and in it he took
+farewell of Athens and the society of men; for, after that, he
+betook himself to the woods, turning his back upon the hated
+city and upon all mankind, wishing the walls of that detestable
+city might sink, and the houses fall upon their owners, wishing
+all plagues which infest humanity--war, outrage, poverty,
+diseases--might fasten upon its inhabitants, praying the just
+gods to confound all Athenians, both young and old, high and low;
+so wishing, he went to the woods, where he said he should find
+the unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. He stripped himself
+naked, that he might retain no fashion of a man, and dug a cave
+to live in, and lived solitary in the manner of a beast, eating
+the wild roots and drinking water, flying from the face of his
+kind, and choosing rather to herd with wild beasts, as more
+harmless and friendly than man.
+
+What a change from Lord Timon the rich, Lord Timon the delight of
+mankind, to Timon the naked, Timon the man-hater! Where were his
+flatterers now? Where were his attendants and retinue? Would the
+bleak air, that boisterous servitor, be his chamberlain, to put
+his shirt on warm? Would those stiff trees that had outlived the
+eagle turn young and airy pages to him, to skip on his errands
+when he bade them? Would the cool brook, when it was iced with
+winter, administer to him his warm broths and caudles when sick
+of an overnight's surfeit? Or would the creatures that lived in
+those wild woods come and lick his hand and flatter him?
+
+Here on a day, when he was digging for roots, his poor
+sustenance, his spade struck against something heavy, which
+proved to be gold, a great heap which some miser had probably
+buried in a time of alarm, thinking to have come again and taken
+it from its prison, but died before the opportunity had arrived,
+without making any man privy to the concealment; so it lay, doing
+neither good nor harm, in the bowels of the earth, its mother, as
+if it had never come thence, till the accidental striking of
+Timon's spade against it once more brought it to light.
+
+Here was a mass of treasure which, if Timon had retained his old
+mind, was enough to have purchased him friends and flatterers
+again; but Timon was sick of the false world and the sight of
+gold was poisonous to his eyes; and he would have restored it to
+the earth, but that, thinking of the infinite calamities which by
+means of gold happen to mankind, how the lucre of it causes
+robberies, oppression, injustice, briberies, violence, and
+murder, among men, he had a pleasure in imagining (such a rooted
+hatred did he bear to his species) that out of this heap, which
+in digging he had discovered, might arise some mischief to plague
+mankind. And some soldiers passing through the woods near to his
+cave at that instant, which proved to be a part of the troops of
+the Athenian captain Alcibiades, who, upon some disgust taken
+against the senators of Athens (the Athenians were ever noted to
+be a thankless and ungrateful people, giving disgust to their
+generals and best friends), was marching at the head of the same
+triumphant army which he had formerly headed in their defense, to
+war against them. Timon, who liked their business well, bestowed
+upon their captain the gold to pay his soldiers, requiring no
+other service from him than that he should with his conquering
+army lay Athens level with the ground, and burn, slay, kill all
+her inhabitants; not sparing the old men for their white beards,
+for (he said) they were usurers, nor the young children for their
+seeming innocent smiles, for those (he said) would live, if they
+grew up, to be traitors; but to steel his eyes and ears against
+any sights or sounds that might awaken compassion; and not to let
+the cries of virgins, babes, or mothers hinder him from making
+one universal massacre of the city, but to confound them all in
+his conquest; and when he had conquered, he prayed that the gods
+would confound him also, the conqueror. So thoroughly did Timon
+hate Athens, Athenians, and all mankind.
+
+While he lived in this forlorn state, leading a life more brutal
+than human, he was suddenly surprised one day with the appearance
+of a man standing in an admiring posture at the door of his
+cave. It was Flavius, the honest steward, whom love and zealous
+affection to his master had led to seek him out at his wretched
+dwelling and to offer his services; and the first sight of his
+master, the once noble Timon, in that abject condition, naked as
+he was born, living in the manner of a beast among beasts,
+looking like his own sad ruins and a monument of decay, so
+affected this good servant that he stood speechless, wrapped up
+in horror and confounded. And when he found utterance at last to
+his words, they were so choked with tears that Timon had much ado
+to know him again, or to make out who it was that had come (so
+contrary to the experience he had had of mankind) to offer him
+service in extremity. And being in the form and shape of a man,
+he suspected him for a traitor, and his tears for false; but the
+good servant by so many tokens confirmed the truth of his
+fidelity, and made it clear that nothing but love and zealous
+duty to his once dear master had brought him there, that Timon
+was forced to confess that the world contained one honest man;
+yet, being in the shape and form of a man, be could not look upon
+his man's face without abhorrence, or hear words uttered from his
+man's lips without loathing; and this singly honest man was
+forced to depart, because he was a man, and because, with a heart
+more gentle and compassionate than is usual to man, he bore man's
+detested form and outward feature.
+
+But greater visitants than a poor steward were about to interrupt
+the savage quiet of Timon's solitude. For now the day was come
+when the ungrateful lords of Athens sorely repented the injustice
+which they had done to the noble Timon. For Alcibiades, like an
+incensed wild boar, was raging at the walls of their city, and
+with his hot siege threatened to lay fair Athens in the dust. And
+now the memory of Lord Timon's former prowess and military
+conduct came fresh into their forgetful minds, for Timon had been
+their general in past times, and a valiant and expert soldier,
+who alone of all the Athenians was deemed able to cope with a
+besieging army such as then threatened them, or to drive back the
+furious approaches of Alcibiades.
+
+A deputation of the senators was chosen in this emergency to wait
+upon Timon. To him they come in their extremity, to whom, when he
+was in extremity, they had shown but small regard; as if they
+presumed upon his gratitude whom they had disobliged, and had
+derived a claim to his courtesy from their own most discourteous
+and unpiteous treatment.
+
+Now they earnestly beseech him, implore him with tears, to return
+and save that city from which their ingratitude had so lately
+driven him; now they offer him riches, power, dignities,,
+satisfaction for past injuries, and public honors, and the public
+love; their persons, lives, and fortunes to be at his disposal,
+if he will but come back and save them. But Timon the naked,
+Timon the man-hater, was no longer Lord Timon, the lord of
+bounty, the flower of valor, their defense in war, their ornament
+in peace. If Alcibiades killed his countrymen, Timon cared not.
+If he sacked fair Athens, and slew her old men and her infants,
+Timon would rejoice. So he told them; and that there was not a
+knife in the unruly camp which he did not prize above the
+reverendest throat in Athens.
+
+This was all the answer he vouchsafed to the weeping,
+disappointed senators; only at parting he bade them commend him
+to his countrymen, and tell them that to ease them of their
+griefs and anxieties, and to prevent the consequences of fierce
+Alcibiades's wrath, there was yet a way left, which he would
+teach them, for he had yet so much affection left for his dear
+countrymen as to be willing to do them a kindness before his
+death. These words a little revived the senators, who hoped that
+his kindness for their city was returning. Then Timon told them
+that he had a tree, which grew near his cave, which he should
+shortly have occasion to cut down, and he invited all his friends
+in Athens, high or low , of whatsoever degree, who wished to shun
+affliction, to come and take a taste of his tree before he cut it
+down; meaning that they might come and hang themselves on it and
+escape affliction that way.
+
+And this was the last courtesy, of all his noble bounties, which
+Timon showed to mankind, and this the last sight of him which his
+countrymen had, for not many days after, a poor soldier, passing
+by the sea-beach which was at a little distance from the woods
+which Timon frequented, found a tomb on the verge of the sea,
+with an inscription upon it purporting that it was the grave of
+Timon the man-hater, who "While he lived, did hate all living
+men, and, dying, wished a plague might consume all caitiffs
+left!"
+
+Whether he finished his life by violence, or whether mere
+distaste of life and the loathing he had for mankind brought
+Timon to his conclusion, was not clear, yet all men admired the
+fitness of his epitaph and the consistency of his end, dying, as
+he had lived, a hater of mankind. And some there were who fancied
+a conceit in the very choice which he had made of the sea-beach
+for his place of burial, where the vast sea might weep forever
+upon his grave, as in contempt of the transient and shallow tears
+of hypocritical and deceitful mankind.
+
+
+
+ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+The two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the
+Montagues. There had been an old quarrel between these families,
+which was grown to such a height, and so deadly was the enmity
+between them, that it extended to the remotest kindred, to the
+followers and retainers of both sides, in so much that a servant
+of the house of Montague could not meet a servant of the house of
+Capulet, nor a Capulet encounter with a Montague by chance, but
+fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued; and frequent were
+the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the
+happy quiet of Verona's streets.
+
+Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies
+and many noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of
+Verona were present, and all comers were made welcome if they
+were not of the house of Montague. At this feast of Capulets,
+Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to the old Lord Montague, was
+present; and though it was dangerous for a Montague to be seen in
+this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo, persuaded the
+young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask, that
+he might see his Rosaline, and, seeing her, compare her with some
+choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his
+swan a crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio's words;
+nevertheless, for the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go.
+For Romeo was a sincere and passionate lover, and one that lost
+his sleep for love and fled society to be alone, thinking on
+Rosaline, who disdained him and never requited his love with the
+least show of courtesy or affection; and Benvolio wished to cure
+his friend of this love by showing him diversity of ladies and
+company. To this feast of Capulets, then, young Romeo, with
+Benvolio and their friend Mercutio, went masked. Old Capulet bid
+them welcome and told them that ladies who had their toes
+unplagued with corns would dance with them. And the old man was
+light-hearted and merry, and said that he had worn a mask when he
+was young and could have told a whispering tale in a fair lady's
+ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly struck with
+the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to
+him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show
+by night like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor; beauty too rich
+for use, too dear for earth! like a snowy dove trooping with
+crows (he said), so richly did her beauty and perfections shine
+above the ladies her companions. While he uttered these praises
+he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord Capulet, who knew
+him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of a fiery
+and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should
+come under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at
+their solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and
+would have struck young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord
+Capulet, would not suffer him to do any injury at that time, both
+out of respect to his guests and because Romeo had borne himself
+like a gentleman and all tongues in Verona bragged of him to be a
+virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to be patient
+against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile
+Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.
+
+The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady
+stood; and under favor of his masking habit, which might seem to
+excuse in part the liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to
+take her by the hand, calling it a shrine, which if he profaned
+by touching it, he was a blushing pilgrim and would kiss it for
+atonement.
+
+"Good pilgrim," answered the lady, "your devotion shows by far
+too mannerly and too courtly. Saints have hands which pilgrims
+may touch but kiss not."
+
+"Have not saints lips, and pilgrims, too?" said Romeo.
+
+"Aye," said the lady, "lips which they must use in prayer."
+
+"Oh, then, my dear saint," said Romeo, "hear my prayer, and grant
+it, lest I despair."
+
+In such like allusions and loving conceits they were engaged when
+the lady was called away to her mother. And Romeo, inquiring who
+her mother was, discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty he
+was so much struck with was young Juliet, daughter and heir to
+the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues; and that he
+had unknowingly engaged his heart to his foe. This troubled him,
+but it could not dissuade him from loving. As little rest had
+Juliet when she found that the gentle man that she had been
+talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly
+smit with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo
+which he had conceived for her; and a prodigious birth of love it
+seemed to her, that she must love her enemy and that her
+affections should settle there, where family considerations
+should induce her chiefly to hate.
+
+It being midnight, Romeo with his companions departed; but they
+soon missed him, for, unable to stay away from the house where he
+had left his heart, he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at
+the back of Juliet's house. Here he had not been long, ruminating
+on his new love, when Juliet appeared above at a window, through
+which her exceeding beauty seemed to break like the light of the
+sun in the east; and the moon, which shone in the orchard with a
+faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with grief at
+the superior luster of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek
+upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that
+hand, that he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking
+herself alone, fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
+
+"Ah me!"
+
+Romeo, enraptured to bear her speak, said, softly and unheard by
+her, "Oh, speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being
+over my head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals
+fall back to gaze upon."
+
+She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new passion
+which that night's adventure had given birth to, called upon her
+lover by name (whom she supposed absent). "O Romeo, Romeo!" said
+she, "wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy
+name, for my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and
+I no longer will be a Capulet."
+
+Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he
+was desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her
+passionate discourse with herself (as she thought), still chiding
+Romeo for being Romeo and a Montague, and wishing him some other
+name, or that he would put away that hated name, and for that
+name which was no part of himself he should take all herself. At
+this loving word Romeo could no longer refrain, but, taking up
+the dialogue as if her words had been addressed to him
+personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call him Love,
+or by whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer
+Romeo, if that name was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to
+hear a man's voice in the garden, did not at first know who it
+was that by favor of the night and darkness had thus stumbled
+upon the discovery of her secret; but when he spoke again, though
+her ears had not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's
+uttering, yet so nice is a lover's hearing that she immediately
+knew him to be young Romeo, and she expostulated with him on the
+danger to which he had exposed himself by climbing the orchard
+walls, for if any of her kinsmen should find him there it would
+be death to him, being a Montague.
+
+"Alack!" said Romeo, "there is more peril in your eye than in
+twenty of their swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I
+am proof against their enmity. Better my life should be ended by
+their hate than that hated life should be prolonged to live
+without your love."
+
+"How came you into this place," said Juliet, "and by whose
+direction?"
+
+"Love directed me," answered Romeo. "I am no pilot, yet 'wert
+thou as far apart from me as that vast shore which is washed with
+the farthest sea, I should venture for such merchandise."
+
+A crimson blush came over Juliet's face, yet unseen by Romeo by
+reason of the night, when she reflected upon the discovery which
+she had made, yet not meaning to make it, of her love to Romeo.
+She would fain have recalled her words, but that was impossible;
+fain would she have stood upon form, and have kept her lover at a
+distance, as the custom of discreet ladies is, to frown and be
+perverse and give their suitors harsh denials at first; to stand
+off, and affect a coyness or indifference where they most love,
+that their lovers may not think them too lightly or too easily
+won; for the difficulty of attainment increases the value of the
+object. But there was no room in her case for denials, or
+puttings off, or any of the customary arts of delay and
+protracted courtship. Romeo had heard from her own tongue, when
+she did not dream that he was near her, a confession of her love.
+So with an honest frankness which the novelty of her situation
+excused she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard, and,
+addressing him by the name of FAIR MONTAGUE (love can sweeten a
+sour name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to
+levity or an unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it
+(if it were a fault) upon the accident of the night which had so
+strangely discovered her thoughts. And she added, that though her
+behavior to him might not be sufficiently prudent, measured by
+the custom of her sex, yet that she would prove more true than
+many whose prudence was dissembling, and their modesty artificial
+cunning.
+
+Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness that nothing
+was farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonor
+to such an honored lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to
+swear; for although she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that
+night's contract--it was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But
+he being urgent with her to exchange a vow of love with him that
+night, she said that she already had given him hers before he
+requested it, meaning, when he overheard her confession; but she
+would retract what she then bestowed, for the pleasure of giving
+it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her love
+as deep. From this loving conference she was called away by her
+nurse, who slept with her and thought it time for her to be in
+bed, for it was near to daybreak; but, hastily returning, she
+said three or four words more to Romeo the purport of which was,
+that if his love was indeed honorable, and his purpose marriage,
+she would send a messenger to him to-morrow to appoint a time for
+their marriage, when she would lay all her fortunes at his feet
+and follow him as her lord through the world. While they were
+settling this point Juliet was repeatedly called for by her
+nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned again, for
+she seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her as a young girl of
+her bird, which she will let hop a little from her hand and pluck
+it back with a silken thread; and Romeo was as loath to part as
+she, for the sweetest music to lovers is the sound of each
+other's tongues at night. But at last they parted, wishing
+mutually sweet sleep and rest for that night.
+
+The day was breaking when they parted, and Romeo, who was too
+full of thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to
+allow him to sleep, instead of going home, bent his course to a
+monastery hard by, to find Friar Lawrence. The good friar was
+already up at his devotions, but, seeing young Romeo abroad so
+early, he conjectured rightly that he had not been abed that
+night, but that some distemper of youthful affection had kept him
+waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo's wakefulness
+to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he thought
+that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo
+revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance
+of the friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his
+eyes and hands in a sort of wonder at the sudden change in
+Romeo's affections, for he had been privy to all Romeo's love for
+Rosaline and his many complaints of her disdain; and he said that
+young men's love lay not truly in their hearts, but in their
+eyes. But Romeo replying that he himself had often chidden him
+for doting on Rosaline, who could not love him again, whereas
+Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the friar assented in
+some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial
+alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might happily be the
+means of making up the long breach between the Capulets and the
+Montagues, which no one more lamented than this good friar who
+was a friend to both the families and had often interposed his
+mediation to make up the quarrel without effect; partly moved by
+policy, and partly by his fondness for young Romeo, to whom he
+could deny nothing, the old man consented to join their hands in
+marriage.
+
+Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent
+from a messenger which she had despatched according to promise,
+did not fail to be early at the cell of Friar Lawrence, where
+their hands were joined in holy marriage, the good friar praying
+the heavens to smile upon that act, and in the union of this
+young Montague and young Capulet, to bury the old strife and long
+dissensions of their families.
+
+The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed,
+impatient for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised
+to come and meet her in the orchard, where they had met the night
+before; and the time between seemed as tedious to her as the
+night before some great festival seems to an impatient child that
+has got new finery which it may not put on till the morning.
+
+That same day, about noon, Romeo's friends, Benvolio and
+Mercutio, walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a
+party of the Capulets with the impetuous Tybalt at their head.
+This was the same angry Tybalt who would have fought with Romeo
+at old Lord Capulet's feast. He, seeing Mercutio, accused him
+bluntly of associating with Romeo, a Montague. Mercutio, who had
+as much fire and youthful blood in him as Tybalt, replied to this
+accusation with some sharpness; and in spite of all Benvolio
+could say to moderate their wrath a quarrel was beginning when,
+Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from
+Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of
+villain. Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all
+men, because he was the kinsman of Juliet and much beloved by
+her; besides, this young Montague had never thoroughly entered
+into the family quarrel, being by nature wise and gentle, and the
+name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady's name, was now rather
+a charm to allay resentment than a watchword to excite fury. So
+he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by the
+name of GOOD CAPULET, as if he, though a Montague, had some
+secret pleasure in uttering that name; but Tybalt, who hated all
+Montagues as he hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his
+weapon; and Mercutio, who knew not of Romeo's secret motive for
+desiring peace with Tybalt, but looked upon his present
+forbearance as a sort of calm dishonorable submission, with many
+disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution of his first
+quarrel with him; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till Mercutio
+fell, receiving his death's wound while Romeo and Benvolio were
+vainly endeavoring to part the combatants.  Mercutio being dead,
+Romeo kept his temper no longer, but  returned the scornful
+appellation of villain which Tybalt had given him, and they
+fought till Tybalt was slain by Romeo. This deadly broil falling
+out in the midst of Verona at noonday, the news of it quickly
+brought a crowd of citizens to the spot and among them the Lords
+Capulet and Montague, with their wives; and soon after arrived
+the prince himself, who, being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt
+had slain, and having had the peace of his government often
+disturbed by these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came
+determined to put the law in strictest force against those who
+should be found to be offenders. Benvolio, who had been
+eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the prince to relate
+the origin of it; which he did, keeping as near the truth as he
+could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part
+which his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief
+for the loss of her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her
+revenge, exhorted the prince to do strict justice upon his
+murderer, and to,pay no attention to Benvolio's representation,
+who, being Romeo's friend and a Montague, spoke partially. Thus
+she pleaded against her new son-in-law, but she knew not yet that
+he was her son-in-law and Juliet's husband. On the other hand was
+to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her child's life, and
+arguing with some justice that Romeo had done nothing worthy of
+punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was already
+forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The prince,
+unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a
+careful examination of the facts pronounced his sentence, and by
+that sentence Romeo was banished from Verona.
+
+Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride
+and now by this decree seemed everlastingly divorced! When the
+tidings reached her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo,
+who had slain her dear cousin. She called him a beautiful tyrant,
+a fiend angelical, a ravenous dove, a lamb with a wolf's nature,
+a serpent-heart hid with a flowering face, and other, like
+contradictory names, which denoted the struggles in her mind
+between her love and her resentment. But in the end love got the
+mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo had
+slain her cousin turned to drops of joy that her husband lived
+whom Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they
+were altogether of grief for Romeo's banishment. That word was
+more terrible to her than the death of many Tybalts.
+
+Romeo, after the fray, had taken refuge in Friar Lawrence's cell,
+where he was first made acquainted with the prince's sentence,
+which seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it
+appeared there was no world out of Verona's walls, no living out
+of the sight of Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and
+all beyond was purgatory, torture, hell. The good friar would
+have applied the consolation of philosophy to his griefs; but
+this frantic young man would hear of none, but like a madman he
+tore his hair and threw himself all along upon the ground, as he
+said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly state
+he was roused by a message from his dear lady which a little
+revived him; and then the friar took the advantage to expostulate
+with him on the unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain
+Tybalt, but would he also slay himself, slay his dear lady, who
+lived but in his life? The noble form of man, he said, was but a
+shape of wax when it wanted the courage which should keep it
+firm. The law had been lenient to him that instead of death,
+which he had incurred, had pronounced by the prince's mouth only
+banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain
+him-there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive and
+(beyond all hope) had become his dear wife; therein he was most
+happy. All these blessings, as the friar made them out to be, did
+Romeo put from him like a sullen misbehaved wench. And the friar
+bade him beware, for such as despaired (he said) died miserable.
+Then when Romeo was a little calmed he counseled him that he
+should go that night and secretly take his leave of Juliet, and
+thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should
+sojourn till the friar found fit occasion to publish his
+marriage, which might be a joyful means of reconciling their
+families; and then he did not doubt but the prince would be moved
+to pardon him, and he would return with twenty times more joy
+than he went forth with grief. Romeo was convinced by these wise
+counsels of the friar, and took his leave to go and seek his
+lady, proposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak
+pursue his journey alone to Mantua; to which place the good friar
+promised to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him
+with the state of affairs at home.
+
+That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret
+admission to her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard
+her confession of love the night before. That had been a night of
+unmixed joy and rapture; but the pleasures of this night and the
+delight which these lovers took in each other's society were
+sadly allayed with the prospect of parting and the fatal
+adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to come
+too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark she
+would have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which
+sings by night; but it was too truly the lark which sang, and a
+discordant and unpleasing note it seemed to her; and the streaks
+of day in the east too certainly pointed out that it was time for
+these lovers to part. Romeo took his leave of his dear wife with
+a heavy heart, promising to write to her from Mantua every hour
+in the day; and when he had descended from her chamber window, as
+he stood below her on the ground, in that sad foreboding state of
+mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one dead in the
+bottom of a tomb. Romeo's mind misgave him in like manner. But
+now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him to
+be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.
+
+This was but the beginning of the tragedy of this pair of star-
+crossed lovers. Romeo had not been gone many days before the old
+Lord Capulet proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had
+chosen for her, not dreaming that she was married already, was
+Count Paris, a gallant, young, and noble gentleman, no unworthy
+suitor to the young Juliet if she had never seen Romeo.
+
+The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father's
+offer. She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent
+death of Tybalt, which had left her spirits too weak to meet a
+husband with any face of joy, and how indecorous it would show
+for the family of the Capulets to be celebrating a nuptial feast
+when his funeral solemnities were hardly over. She pleaded every
+reason against the match but the true one, namely, that she was
+married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses,
+and in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the
+following Thursday she should be married to Paris. And having
+found her a husband, rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest
+maid in Verona might joyfully accept, he could not bear that out
+of an affected coyness, as he construed her denial, she should
+oppose obstacles to her own good fortune.
+
+In this extremity Juliet applied to the friendly friar, always a
+counselor in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to
+undertake a desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go
+into the grave alive rather than marry Paris, her own dear
+husband living, he directed her to go home, and appear merry, and
+give her consent to marry Paris, according to her father's
+desire, and on the next night, which was the night before the
+marriage, to drink off the contents of a vial which he then gave
+her, the effect of which would be that for two-and-forty hours
+after drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless, and when
+the bridegroom came to fetch her in the morning he would find her
+to appearance dead; that then she would be borne, as the manner
+in that country was, uncovered on a bier, to be buried in the
+family vault; that if she could put off womanish fear, and
+consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours after
+swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would
+be sure to awake, as from a dream; and before she should awake he
+would let her husband know their drift, and he should come in the
+night and bear her thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of
+marrying Paris, gave young Juliet strength to undertake this
+horrible adventure; and she took the vial of the friar, promising
+to observe his directions.
+
+Going from the monastery, she met the young Count Paris, and,
+modestly dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was
+joyful news to the Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put
+youth into the old man; and Juliet, who had displeased him
+exceedingly by her refusal of the count, was his darling again,
+now she promised to be obedient. All things in the house were in
+a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was spared to
+prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before
+witnessed.
+
+On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many
+misgivings lest the friar, to avoid the blame which might be
+imputed to him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison;
+but then he was always known for a holy man. Then lest she should
+awake before the time that Romeo was to come for her; whether the
+terror of the place, a vault full of dead Capulets' bones, and
+where Tybalt, all bloody, lay festering in his shroud, would not
+be enough to drive her distracted. Again she thought of all the
+stories she had heard of spirits haunting the places where their
+bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo and her
+aversion for Paris returned, and she desperately swallowed the
+draught and became insensible.
+
+When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken
+his bride, instead of a living Juliet her chamber presented the
+dreary spectacle of a lifeless corse. What death to his hopes!
+What confusion then reigned through the whole house! Poor Paris
+lamenting his bride, whom most detestable death had beguiled him
+of, had divorced from him even before their hands were joined.
+But still more piteous it was to hear the mournings of the old
+Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one poor loving
+child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death had snatched her from
+their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of
+seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and
+advantageous match. Now all things that were ordained for the
+festival were turned from their properties to do the office of a
+black funeral. The wedding cheer served for a sad burial feast,
+the bridal hymns were changed for sullen dirges, the sprightly
+instruments to melancholy.bells, and the flowers that should have
+been strewed in the bride's path now served but to strew her
+corse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was needed
+to bury her, and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment
+the cheerful hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers
+of the dead.
+
+Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the
+dismal story of his Juliet's death to Romeo, at Mantua, before
+the messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Lawrence to
+apprise him that these were mock funerals only, and but the
+shadow and representation of death, and that his dear lady lay in
+the tomb but for a short while, expecting when Romeo would come
+to release her from that dreary mansion. Just before, Romeo had
+been unusually joyful and light-hearted. He had dreamed in the
+night that he was dead (a strange dream, that gave a dead man
+leave to think) and that his lady came and found him dead, and
+breathed such life with kisses in his lips that he revived and
+was an emperor! And now that a messenger came from Verona, he
+thought surely it was to confirm some good news which his dreams
+had presaged. But when the contrary to this flattering vision
+appeared, and that it was his lady who was dead in truth, whom he
+could not revive by any kisses, he ordered horses to be got
+ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona and to see
+his lady in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the
+thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary,
+whose shop in Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly
+appearance of the man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show
+in his show of empty boxes ranged on dirty shelves, and other
+tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had said at the time (perhaps
+having some misgivings that his own disastrous life might haply
+meet with a conclusion so desperate):
+
+"If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is
+death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him."
+
+These words of his now came into his mind and he sought out the
+apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him
+gold, which his poverty could not resist, sold him a poison
+which, if he swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of
+twenty men, would quickly despatch him.
+
+With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his
+dear lady in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight,
+to swallow the poison and be buried by her side. He reached
+Verona at midnight, and found the churchyard in the midst of
+which was situated the ancient tomb of the Capulets. He had
+provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching-iron, and was
+proceeding to break open the monument when he was interrupted by
+a voice, which by the name of VILE MONTAGUE bade him desist from
+his unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come
+to the tomb of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night to strew
+flowers and to weep over the grave of her that should have been
+his bride. He knew not what an interest Romeo had in the dead,
+but, knowing him to be a Montague and (as he supposed) a sworn
+foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come by night to
+do some villainous shame to the dead bodies; therefore in an
+angry tone he bade him desist; and as a criminal, condemned by
+the laws of Verona to die if he were found within the walls of
+the city, he would have apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to
+leave him, and warned him by the fate of Tybalt, who lay buried
+there, not to provoke his anger or draw down another sin upon his
+head by forcing him to kill him. But the count in scorn refused
+his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which, Romeo
+resisting, they fought, and Paris fell. When Romeo, by the help
+of a light, came to see who it was that he had slain, that it was
+Paris, who (he learned in his way from Mantua) should have
+married Juliet, he took the dead youth by the hand, as one whom
+misfortune had made a companion, and said that he would bury him
+in a triumphal grave, meaning in Juliet's grave, which he now
+opened. And there lay his lady, as one whom death had no power
+upon to change a feature or complexion, in her matchless beauty;
+or as if death were amorous, and the lean, abhorred monster kept
+her there for his delight; for she lay yet fresh and blooming, as
+she had fallen to sleep when she swallowed that benumbing potion;
+and near her lay Tybalt in his bloody shroud, whom Romeo seeing,
+begged pardon of his lifeless corse, and for Juliet's sake called
+him COUSIN, and said that he was about to do him a favor by
+putting his enemy to death. Here Romeo took his last leave of his
+lady's lips, kissing them; and here he shook the burden of his
+cross stars from his weary body, swallowing that poison which the
+apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, not
+like that dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the
+effect of which was now nearly expiring, and she about to awake
+to complain that Romeo had not kept his time, or that he had come
+too soon.
+
+For now the hour was arrived at which the friar had promised that
+she should awake; and he, having learned that his letters which
+he had sent to Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the
+messenger, had never reached Romeo, came himself, provided with a
+pickax and lantern, to deliver the lady from her confinement; but
+he was surprised to find a light already burning in the Capulets'
+monument, and to see swords and blood near it, and Romeo and
+Paris lying breathless by the monument,
+
+Before he could entertain a conjecture, to imagine how these
+fatal accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance,
+and, seeing the friar near her, she remembered the place where
+she was, and the occasion of her being there, and asked for
+Romeo, but the friar, hearing a noise, bade her come out of that
+place of death and of unnatural sleep, for a greater power than
+they could contradict had thwarted their intents; and, being
+frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled. But when
+Juliet saw the cup closed in her true love's hands, she guessed
+that poison had been the cause of his end, and she would have
+swallowed the dregs if any had been left, and she kissed his
+still warm lips to try if any poison yet did hang upon them; then
+hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she quickly unsheathed a
+dagger which she wore, and, stabbing herself, died by her true
+Romeo's side.
+
+The watch by this time had come up to the place. A page belonging
+to Count Paris, who had witnessed the fight between his master
+and Romeo, had given the alarm, which had spread among the
+citizens, who went up and down the streets of Verona confusedly
+exclaiming, "A Paris! a Romeo! a Juliet!" as the rumor had
+imperfectly reached them, till the uproar brought Lord Montague
+and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the prince, to inquire
+into the causes of the disturbance. The friar had been
+apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard,
+trembling, sighing, and weeping in a suspicious manner. A great
+multitude being assembled at the Capulets' monument, the friar
+was demanded by the prince to deliver what he knew of these
+strange and disastrous accidents.
+
+And there, in the presence of the old Lords Montague and Capulet,
+he faithfully related the story of their children's fatal love,
+the part he took in promoting their marriage, in the hope in that
+union to end the long quarrels between their families; how Romeo,
+there dead, was husband to Juliet, and Juliet, there dead, was
+Romeo's faithful wife; how, before he could find a fit
+opportunity to divulge their marriage, another match was
+projected for Juliet, who, to avoid the crime of a second
+marriage, swallowed the sleeping-draught (as he advised), and all
+thought her dead; how meantime he wrote to Romeo to come and take
+her thence when the force of the potion should cease, and by what
+unfortunate miscarriage of the messenger the letters never
+reached Romeo. Further than this the friar could not follow the
+story, nor knew more than that, coming himself to deliver Juliet
+from that place of death, he found the Count Paris and Romeo
+slain. The remainder of the transactions was supplied by the
+narration of the page who had seen Paris and Romeo fight, and by
+the servant who came with Romeo from Verona, to whom this
+faithful lover had given letters to be delivered to his father in
+the event of his death, which made good the friar's words,
+confessing his marriage with Juliet, imploring the forgiveness of
+his parents, acknowledging the buying of the poison of the poor
+apothecary and his intent in coming to the monument to die and
+lie with Juliet. All these circumstances agreed together to clear
+the friar from any hand he could be supposed to have in these
+complicated slaughters, further than as the unintended
+consequences of his own well-meant, yet too artificial and subtle
+contrivances.
+
+And the prince, turning to these old lords, Montague and Capulet,
+rebuked them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed
+them what a scourge Heaven had laid upon such offenses, that it
+had found means even through the love of their children to punish
+their unnatural hate. And these old rivals, no longer enemies,
+agreed to bury their long strife in their children's graves; and
+Lord Capulet requested Lord Montague to give him his hand,
+calling him by the name of brother, as if in acknowledgment of
+the union of their families by the marriage of the young Capulet
+and Montague; and saying that Lord Montague's hand (in token of
+reconcilement) was all he demanded for his daughter's jointure.
+But Lord Montague said he would give him more, for he would raise
+her a statue of pure gold that, while Verona kept its name, no
+figure should be so esteemed for its richness and workmanship as
+that of the true and faithful Juliet. And Lord Capulet in return
+said that he would raise another statue to Romeo. So did these
+poor old lords, when it was too late, strive to outgo each other
+in mutual courtesies; while so deadly had been their rage and
+enmity in past times that nothing but the fearful overthrow of
+their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and
+dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the
+noble families.
+
+
+
+HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
+
+Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, becoming a widow by the sudden death
+of King Hamlet, in less than two months after his death married
+his brother Claudius, which was noted by all people at the tim
+for a strange act of indiscretion, or unfeelingness, or worse;
+for this Claudius did no way resemble her late husband in the
+qualities of his person or his mind, but was as contemptible in
+outward appearance as he was base and unworthy in disposition;
+and suspicions did not fail to arise in the minds of some that he
+had privately made away with his brother, the late king, with the
+view of marrying his widow and ascending the throne of Denmark,
+to the exclusion of young Hamlet, the son of the buried king and
+lawful successor to the throne.
+
+But upon no one did this unadvised action of the queen make such
+impression as upon this young prince, who loved and venerated the
+memory of his dead father almost to idolatry, and, being of a
+nice sense of honor and a most exquisite practiser of propriety
+himself, did sorely take to heart this unworthy conduct of his
+mother Gertrude; in so much that, between grief for his father's
+death and shame for his mother's marriage, this young prince was
+overclouded with a deep melancholy, and lost all his mirth and
+all his good looks; all his customary pleasure in books forsook
+him, his princely exercises and sports, proper to his youth, were
+no longer acceptable; he grew weary of the world, which seemed to
+him an unweeded garden, where all the wholesome flowers were
+choked up and nothing but weeds could thrive. Not that the
+prospect of exclusion from the throne, his lawful inheritance,
+weighed so much upon his spirits, though that to a young and
+high-minded prince was a bitter wound and a sore indignity; but
+what so galled him and took away all his cheerful spirits was
+that his mother had shown herself so forgetful to his father's
+memory, and such a father! who had been to her so loving and so
+gentle a husband! and then she always appeared as loving and
+obedient a wife to him, and would hang upon him as if her
+affection grew to him. And now within two months, or, as it
+seemed to young Hamlet, less than two months, she had married
+again, married his uncle, her dear husband's brother, in itself a
+highly improper and unlawful marriage, from the nearness of
+relationship, but made much more so by the indecent haste with
+which it was concluded and the unkingly character of the man whom
+she had chosen to be the partner of her throne and bed. This it
+was which more than the loss of ten kingdoms dashed the spirits
+and brought a cloud over the mind of this honorable young prince.
+
+In vain was all that his mother Gertrude or the king could do to
+contrive to divert him; he still appeared in court in a suit of
+deep black, as mourning for the king his father's death, which
+mode of dress he had never laid aside, not even in compliment to
+his mother upon the day she was married, nor could he be brought
+to join in any of the festivities or rejoicings of that (as
+appeared to him) disgraceful day.
+
+What mostly troubled him was an uncertainty about the manner of
+his father's death. It was given out by Claudius that a serpent
+had stung him; but young Hamlet had shrewd suspicions that
+Claudius himself was the serpent; in plain English, that he had
+murdered him for his crown, and that the serpent who stung his
+father did now sit on the throne.
+
+How far he was right in this conjecture and what he ought to
+think of his mother, how far she was privy to this murder and
+whether by her consent or knowledge, or without, it came to pass,
+were the doubts which continually harassed and distracted him.
+
+A rumor had reached the ear of young Hamlet that an apparition,
+exactly resembling the dead king his father, had been seen by the
+soldiers upon watch, on the platform before the palace at
+midnight, for two or three nights successively. The figure came
+constantly clad in the same suit of armor, from head to foot,
+which the dead king was known to have worn. And they who saw it
+(Hamlet's bosom friend Horatio was one) agreed in their testimony
+as to the time and manner of its appearance that it came just as
+the clock struck twelve; that it looked pale, with a face more of
+sorrow than of anger; that its beard was grisly, and the color a
+SABLE SILVERED, as they had seen it in his lifetime; that it
+made no answer when they spoke to it; yet once they thought it
+lifted up its head and addressed itself to motion, as if it were
+about to speak; but in that moment the morning cock crew and it
+shrank in haste away, and vanished out of their sight.
+
+The young prince, strangely amazed at their relation, which was
+too consistent and agreeing with itself to disbelieve, concluded
+that it was his father's ghost which they had seen, and
+determined to take his watch with the soldiers that night, that
+he might have a chance of seeing it; for he reasoned with himself
+that such an appearance did not come for nothing, but that the
+ghost had something to impart, and though it had been silent
+hitherto, yet it would speak to him. And he waited with
+impatience for the coming of night.
+
+When night came he took his stand with Horatio, and Marcellus,
+one of the guard, upon the platform, where this apparition was
+accustomed to walk; and it being a cold night, and the air
+unusually raw and nipping, Hamlet and Horatio and their companion
+fell into some talk about the coldness of the night, which was
+suddenly broken off by Horatio announcing that the ghost was
+coming.
+
+At the sight of his father's spirit Hamlet was struck with a
+sudden surprise and fear.' He at first called upon the angels and
+heavenly ministers to defend them, for he knew not whether it
+were a good spirit or bad, whether it came for good or evil; but
+he gradually assumed more courage; and his father (as it seemed
+to him) looked upon him so piteously, and as it were desiring to
+have conversation with him, and did in all respects appear so
+like himself as he was when he lived, that Hamlet could not help
+addressing him. He called him by his name, "Hamlet, King,
+Father!" and conjured him that he would tell the reason why he
+had left his grave, where they had seen him quietly bestowed, to
+come again and visit the earth and the moonlight; and besought
+him that he would let them know if there was anything which they
+could do to give peace to his spirit. And the ghost beckoned to
+Hamlet, that he should go with him to some more removed place
+where they might be alone; and Horatio and Marcellus would have
+dissuaded the young prince from following it, for they feared
+lest it should be some evil spirit who would tempt him to the
+neighboring sea or to the top of some dreadful cliff, and there
+put on some horrible shape which might deprive the prince of his
+reason. But their counsels and entreaties could not alter
+Hamlet's determination, who cared too little about life to fear
+the losing of it; and as to his soul, he said, what could the
+spirit do to that, being a thing immortal as itself? And he felt
+as hardy as a lion, and, bursting from them, who did all they
+could to hold him, he followed whithersoever the spirit led him.
+
+ And when they were alone together, the spirit broke silence and
+told him that he was the ghost of Hamlet, his father, who had
+been cruelly murdered, and he told the manner of it; that it was
+done by his own brother Claudius, Hamlet's uncle, as Hamlet had
+already but too much suspected, for the hope of succeeding to his
+bed and crown. That as he was sleeping in his garden, his custom
+always in the afternoon, his treasonous brother stole upon him in
+his sleep and poured the juice of poisonous henbane into his
+ears, which has such an antipathy to the life of man that, swift
+as quicksilver, it courses through all the veins of the body,
+baking up the blood and spreading a crust-like leprosy all over
+the skin. Thus sleeping, by a brother's hand he was cut off at
+once from his crown, his queen, and his life; and he adjured
+Hamlet, if he did ever his dear father love, that he would
+revenge his foul murder. And the ghost lamented to his son that
+his mother should so fall off from virtue as to prove false to
+the wedded love of her first husband and to marry his murderer;
+but he cautioned Hamlet, howsoever he proceeded in his revenge
+against his wicked uncle, by no means to act any violence against
+the person of his mother, but to leave her to Heaven, and to the
+stings and thorns of conscience. And Hamlet promised to observe
+the ghost's direction in all things, and the ghost vanished.
+
+And when Hamlet was left alone he took up a solemn resolution
+that all he had in his memory, all that he had ever learned by
+books or observation, should be instantly forgotten by him, and
+nothing live in his brain but the memory of what the ghost had
+told him and enjoined him to do. And Hamlet related the
+particulars of the conversation which had passed to none but his
+dear friend Horatio; and he enjoined both to him and Marcellus
+the strictest secrecy as to what they had seen that night.
+
+The terror which the sight of the ghost had left upon the senses
+of Hamlet, he being weak and dispirited before, almost unhinged
+his mind and drove him beside his reason. And he, fearing that it
+would continue to have this effect, which might subject him to
+observation and set his uncle upon his guard, if he suspected
+that he was meditating anything against him, or that Hamlet
+really knew more of his father's death than he professed, took up
+a strange resolution, from that time to counterfeit as if he were
+really and truly mad; thinking that he would be less an object of
+suspicion when his uncle should believe him incapable of any
+serious project, and that his real perturbation of mind would be
+best covered and pass concealed under a disguise of pretended
+lunacy.
+
+From this time Hamlet affected a certain wildness and strangeness
+in his apparel, his speech, and behavior, and did so excellently
+counterfeit the madman that the king and queen were both
+deceived, and not thinking his grief for his father's death a
+sufficient cause to produce such a distemper, for they knew not
+of the appearance of the ghost, they concluded that his malady
+was love and they thought they had found out the object.
+
+Before Hamlet fell into the melancholy way which has been
+related he had dearly loved a fair maid called Ophelia, the
+daughter of Polonius, the king's chief counselor in affairs of
+state. He had sent her letters and rings, and made many tenders
+of his affection to her, and importuned her with love in
+honorable fashion; and she had given belief to his vows and
+importunities. But the melancholy which he fell into latterly
+had made him neglect her, and from the time he conceived the
+project of counterfeiting madness he affected to treat her with
+unkindness and a sort of rudeness; but she, good lady, rather
+than reproach him with being false to her, persuaded herself that
+it was nothing but the disease in his mind, and no settled
+unkindness, which had made him less observant of her than
+formerly; and she compared the faculties of his once noble mind
+and excellent understanding, impaired as they were with the deep
+melancholy that oppressed him, to sweet bells which in themselves
+are capable of most exquisite music, but when jangled out of
+tune, or rudely handled, produce only a harsh and unpleasing
+sound.
+
+Though the rough business which Hamlet had in hand, the revenging
+of his father's death upon his murderer, did not suit with the
+playful state of courtship, or admit of the society of so idle a
+passion as love now seemed to him, yet it could not hinder but
+that soft thoughts of his Ophelia would come between, and in one
+of these moments, when he thought that his treatment of this
+gentle lady had been unreasonably harsh, he wrote her a letter
+full of wild starts of passion, and in extravagant terms, such as
+agreed with his supposed madness, but mixed with some gentle
+touches of affection, which could not but show to this honored
+lady that a deep love for her yet lay at the bottom of his heart.
+He bade her to doubt the stars were fire, and to doubt that the
+sun did move, to doubt truth to be a liar, but never to doubt
+that he loved; with more of such extravagant phrases. This letter
+Ophelia dutifully showed to her father, and the old man thought
+himself bound to communicate it to the king and queen, who from
+that time supposed that the true cause of Hamlet's madness was
+love. And the queen wished that the good beauties of Ophelia
+might be the happy cause of his wildness, for so she hoped that
+her virtues might happily restore him to his accustomed way
+again, to both their honors.
+
+But Hamlet's malady lay deeper than she supposed, or than could
+be so cured. His father's ghost, which he had seen, still haunted
+his imagination, and the sacred injunction to revenge his murder
+gave him no rest till it was accomplished. Every hour of delay
+seemed to him a sin and a violation of his father's commands. Yet
+how to compass the death of the king, surrounded as he constantly
+was with his guards, was no easy matter. Or if it had been, the
+presence of the queen, Hamlet's mother, who was generally with
+the king, was a restraint upon his purpose, which he could not
+break through. Besides, the very circumstance that the usurper
+was his mother's husband, filled him with some remorse and still
+blunted the edge of his purpose. The mere act of putting a
+fellow-creature to death was in itself odious and terrible to a
+disposition naturally so gentle as Hamlet's was. His very
+melancholy, and the dejection of spirits he had so long been ill,
+produced an irresoluteness and wavering of purpose which kept him
+from proceeding to extremities. Moreover, he could not help
+having some scruples upon his mind, whether the spirit which he
+had seen was indeed his father, or whether it might not be the
+devil, who he had heard has power to take any form he pleases,
+and who might have assumed his father's shape only to take
+advantage of his weakness and his melancholy, to drive him to the
+doing of so desperate an act as murder. And he determined that he
+would have more certain grounds to go upon than a vision, or
+apparition, which might be a delusion.
+
+While he was in this irresolute mind there came to the court
+certain players, in whom Hamlet formerly used to take delight,
+and particularly to hear one of them speak a tragical speech,
+describing the death of old Priam, King of Troy, with the grief
+of Hecuba his queen. Hamlet welcomed his old friends, the
+players, and remembering how that speech had formerly given him
+pleasure, requested the player to repeat it; which he did in so
+lively a manner, setting forth the cruel murder of the feeble old
+king, with the destruction of his people and city by fire, and
+the mad grief of the old queen, running barefoot up and down the
+palace, with a poor clout upon that head where a crown had been,
+and with nothing but a blanket upon her loins, snatched up in
+haste, where she had worn a royal robe; that not only it drew
+tears from all that stood by, who thought they saw the real
+scene, so lively was it represented, but even the player himself
+delivered it with a broken voice and real tears. This put Hamlet
+upon thinking, if that player could so work himself up to passion
+by a mere fictitious speech, to weep for one that he had never
+seen, for Hecuba, that had been dead so many hundred years, how
+dull was he, who having a real motive and cue for passion, a real
+king and a dear father murdered, was yet so little moved that his
+revenge all this while had seemed to have slept in dull and muddy
+forgetfulness! and while he meditated on actors and acting, and
+the powerful effects which a good play, represented to the life,
+has upon the spectator, he remembered the instance of some
+murderer, who, seeing a murder on the stage, was by the mere
+force of the scene and resemblance of circumstances so affected
+that on the spot he confessed the crime which he had committed.
+And he determined that these players should play something like
+the murder of his father before his uncle, and he would watch
+narrowly what effect it might have upon him, and from his looks
+he would be able to gather with more certainty if he were the
+murderer or not. To this effect he ordered a play to be prepared,
+to the representation of which he invited the king and queen.
+
+The story of the play was of a murder done in Vienna upon a duke.
+The duke's name was Gonzago, his wife's Baptista. The play showed
+how one Lucianus, a near relation to the duke, poisoned him in
+his garden for his estate, and how the murderer in a short time
+after got the love of Gonzago's wife.
+
+At the representation of this play, the king, who did not know
+the trap which was laid for him, was present, with his queen and
+the whole court; Hamlet sitting attentively near him to observe
+his looks. The play began with a conversation between Gonzago and
+his wife, in which the lady made many protestations of love, and
+of never marrying a second husband if she should outlive Gonzago,
+wishing she might be accursed if she ever took a second husband,
+and adding that no woman did so but those wicked women who kill
+their first husbands. Hamlet observed the king his uncle change
+color at this expression, and that it was as bad as wormwood both
+to him and to the queen. But when Lucianus, according to the
+story, came to poison Gonzago sleeping in the garden, the strong
+resemblance which it bore to his own wicked act upon the late
+king, his brother, whom he had poisoned in his garden, so struck
+upon the conscience of this usurper that he was unable to sit out
+the rest of the play, but on a sudden calling for lights to his
+chamber, and affecting or partly feeling a sudden sickness, he
+abruptly left the theater. The king being departed, the play was
+given over. Now Hamlet had seen enough to be satisfied that the
+words of the ghost were true and no illusion; and in a fit of
+gaiety, like that which comes over a man who suddenly has some
+great doubt or scruple resolved, he swore to Horatio that he
+would take the ghost's word for a thousand pounds. But before he
+could make up his resolution as to what measures of revenge he
+should take, now he was certainly informed that his uncle was his
+father's murderer, he was sent for by the queen his mother, to a
+private conference in her closet.
+
+It was by desire of the king that the queen sent for Hamlet,
+that she might signify to her son how much his late behavior
+had displeased them both, and the king, wishing to know all that
+passed at that conference, and thinking that the too partial
+report of a mother might let slip some part of Hamlet's words,
+which it might much import the king to know, Polonius, the old
+counselor of state, was ordered to plant himself behind the
+hangings in the queen's closet, where he might, unseen, hear all
+that passed. This artifice was particularly adapted to the
+disposition of Polonius, who was a man grown old in crooked
+maxims and policies of state, and delighted to get at the
+knowledge of matters in an indirect and cunning way.
+
+Hamlet being come to his mother, she began to tax him in the
+roundest way with his actions and behavior, and she told him that
+he had given great offense to HIS FATHER, meaning the king, his
+uncle, whom, because he had married her, she called Hamlet's
+father. Hamlet, sorely indignant that she should give so dear and
+honored a name as father seemed to him to a wretch who was
+indeed no better than the murderer of his true father, with some
+sharpness replied:
+
+"Mother, YOU have much offended MY FATHER."
+
+The queen said that was but an idle answer.
+
+"As good as the question deserved," said Hamlet.
+
+The queen asked him if he had forgotten who it was he was
+speaking to.
+
+"Alas!" replied Hamlet, "I wish I could forget. You are the
+queen, your husband's brother's wife; and you are my mother. I
+wish you were not what you are."
+
+"Nay, then," said the queen, "if you show me so little respect, I
+will set those to you that can speak," and was going to send the
+king or Polonius to him.
+
+But Hamlet would not let her go, now he had her alone, till he
+had tried if his words could not bring her to some sense of her
+wicked life; and, taking her by the wrist, he held her fast, and
+made her sit down. She, affrighted at his earnest manner, and
+fearful lest in his lunacy he should do her a mischief, cried
+out; and a voice was heard from behind the hangings, "Help, help'
+the queen!" which Hamlet hearing, and verily thinking that it was
+the king himself there concealed, he drew his sword and stabbed
+at the place where the voice came from, as he would have stabbed
+a rat that ran there, till, the voice ceasing, he concluded the
+person to be dead. But when he dragged forth the body it was not
+the king, but Polonius, the old, officious counselor, that had
+planted himself as a spy behind the hangings.
+
+"Oh, me!" exclaimed the queen, "what a rash and bloody deed have
+you done!"
+
+"A bloody deed, mother," replied Hamlet, "but not so bad as
+yours, who killed a king, and married his brother."
+
+Hamlet had gone too far to leave off here. He was now in the
+humor to speak plainly to his mother, and he pursued it. And
+though the faults of parents are to be tenderly treated by their
+children, yet in the case of great crimes the son may have leave
+to speak even to his own mother with some harshness, so as that
+harshness is meant for her good and to turn her from her wicked
+ways, and not done for the purpose of upbraiding. And now this
+virtuous prince did in moving terms represent to the queen the
+heinousness of her offense in being so forgetful of the dead
+king, his father, as in so short a space of time to marry with
+his brother and reputed murderer. Such an act as, after the vows
+which she had sworn to her first husband, was enough to make all
+vows of women suspected and all virtue to be accounted hypocrisy,
+wedding contracts to be less than gamesters' oaths, and religion
+to be a mockery and a mere form of words. He said she had done
+such a deed that the heavens blushed at it, and the earth was
+sick of her because of it. And he showed her two pictures, the
+one of the late king, her first husband, and the other of the
+present king, her second husband, and he bade her mark the
+difference; what a grace was on the brow of his father, how like
+a god he looked! the curls of Apollo, the forehead of Jupiter,
+the eye of Mars, and a posture like to Mercury newly alighted on
+some heaven-kissing hill! this man, he said, HAD BEEN her
+husband. And then be showed her whom she had got in his stead;
+how like a blight or a mildew he looked, for so he had blasted
+his wholesome brother. And the queen was sore ashamed that he
+should so turn her eyes inward upon her soul, which she now saw
+so black and deformed. And he asked her how she could continue to
+live with this man, and be a wife to him, who had murdered her
+first husband and got the crown by as false means as a thief--and
+just as he spoke the ghost of his father, such as he was in his
+lifetime and such as he had lately seen it, entered the room, and
+Hamlet, in great terror, asked what it would have; and the ghost
+said that it came to remind him of the revenge he had promised,
+which Hamlet seemed to have forgot; and the ghost bade him speak
+to his mother, for the grief and terror she was in would else
+kill her. It then vanished, and was seen by none but Hamlet,
+neither could he by pointing to where it stood, or by any
+description, make his mother perceive it, who was terribly
+frightened all this while to hear him conversing, as it seemed to
+her, with nothing; and she imputed it to the disorder of his
+mind. But Hamlet begged her not to flatter her wicked soul in
+such a manner as to think that it was his madness, and not her
+own offenses, which had brought his father's spirit again on the
+earth. And he bade her feel his pulse, how temperately it beat,
+not like a madman's. And he begged of her, with tears, to confess
+herself to Heaven for what was past, and for the future to
+avoid the company of the king and be no more as a wife to him;
+and when she should show herself a mother to him, by respecting
+his father's memory, he would ask a blessing of her as a son. And
+she promising to observe his directions, the conference ended.
+
+And now Hamlet was at leisure to consider who it was that in his
+unfortunate rashness he had killed; and when he came to see that
+it was Polonius, the father of the Lady Ophelia whom he so dearly
+loved, he drew apart the dead body, and, his spirits being now a
+little quieter, he wept for what he had done.
+
+The unfortunate death of Polonius gave the king a pretense for
+sending Hamlet out of the kingdom. He would willingly have put
+him to death, fearing him as dangerous; but he dreaded the
+people, who loved Hamlet, and the queen, who, with all her
+faults, doted upon the prince, her son. So this subtle king,
+under pretense of providing for Hamlet's safety, that he might
+not be called to account for Polonius's death, caused him to be
+conveyed on board a ship bound for England, under the care of two
+courtiers, by whom he despatched letters to the English court,
+which in that time was in subjection and paid tribute to Denmark,
+requiring, for special reasons there pretended, that Hamlet
+should be put to death as soon as he landed on English ground.
+Hamlet, suspecting some treachery, in the nighttime secretly got
+at the letters, and, skilfully erasing his own name, he in the
+stead of it put in the names of those two courtiers, who had the
+charge of him, to be put to death; then sealing up the letters,
+he put them into their place again. Soon after the ship was
+attacked by pirates, and a sea-fight commenced, in the course of
+which Hamlet, desirous to show his valor, with sword in hand
+singly boarded the enemy's vessel; while his own ship, in a
+cowardly manner, bore away; and leaving him to his fate, the two
+courtiers made the best of their way to England, charged with
+those letters the sense of which Hamlet had altered to their own
+deserved destruction.
+
+The pirates who had the prince in their power showed themselves
+gentle enemies, and, knowing whom they had got prisoner, in the
+hope that the prince might do them a good turn at court in
+recompense for any favor they might show him, they set Hamlet on
+shore at the nearest port in Denmark. From that place Hamlet
+wrote to the king, acquainting him with the strange chance which
+had brought him back to his own country and saying that on the
+next day he should present himself before his Majesty. When he
+got home a sad spectacle offered itself the first thing to his
+eyes.
+
+This was the funeral of the young and beautiful Ophelia, his once
+dear mistress. The wits of this young lady had begun to turn ever
+since her poor father's death. That he should die a violent
+death, and by the hands of the prince whom she loved, so affected
+this tender young maid that in a little time she grew perfectly
+distracted, and would go about giving flowers away to the ladies
+of the court, and saying that they were for her father's burial,
+singing songs about love and about death, and sometimes such as
+had no meaning at all, as if she had no memory of what happened
+to her. There was a willow which grew slanting over a brook, and
+reflected its leaves on the stream. To this brook she came one
+day when she was unwatched, with garlands she had been making,
+mixed up of daisies and nettles, flowers and weeds together, and
+clambering up to bang her garland upon the boughs of the willow,
+a bough broke and precipitated this fair young maid, garland, and
+all that she had gathered, into the water, where her clothes bore
+her up for a while, during which she chanted scraps of old tunes,
+like one insensible to her own distress, or as if she were a
+creature natural to that element; but long it was not before her
+garments, heavy with the wet, pulled her in from her melodious
+singing to a muddy and miserable death. It was the funeral of
+this fair maid which her brother Laertes was celebrating, the
+king and queen and whole court being present, when Hamlet
+arrived. He knew not what all this show imported, but stood on
+one side, not inclining to interrupt the ceremony. He saw the
+flowers strewed upon her grave, as the custom was in maiden
+burials, which the queen herself threw in; and as she threw them
+she said:
+
+"Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bride bed,
+sweet maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have
+been my Hamlet's wife."
+
+And he heard her brother wish that violets might spring from her
+grave; and he saw him leap into the grave all frantic with grief,
+and bid the attendants pile mountains of earth upon him, that he
+might be buried with her. And Hamlet's love for this fair maid
+came back to him, and he could not bear that a brother should
+show so much transport of grief, for he thought that he loved
+Ophelia better than forty thousand brothers. Then discovering
+himself, he leaped into the grave where Laertes was, all as
+frantic or more frantic than he, and Laertes, knowing him to be
+Hamlet, who had been the cause of his father's and his sister's
+death, grappled him by the throat as an enemy, till the
+attendants parted them; and Hamlet, after the funeral, excused
+his hasty act in throwing himself into the grave as if to brave
+Laertes; but he said he could not bear that any one should seem
+to outgo him in grief for the death of the fair Ophelia. And for
+the time these two noble youths seemed reconciled.
+
+But out of the grief and anger of Laertes for the death of his
+father and Ophelia the king, Hamlet's wicked uncle, contrived
+destruction for Hamlet. He set on Laertes, under cover of peace
+and reconciliation, to challenge Hamlet to a friendly trial of
+skill at fencing, which Hamlet accepting, a day was appointed to
+try the match. At this match all the court was present, and
+Laertes, by direction of the king, prepared a poisoned weapon.
+Upon this match great wagers were laid by the courtiers, as both
+Hamlet and Laertes were known to excel at this sword play; and
+Hamlet, taking up the foils, chose one, not at all suspecting the
+treachery of Laertes, or being careful to examine Laertes's
+weapon, who, instead of a foil or blunted sword, which the laws
+of fencing require, made use of one with a point, and poisoned.
+At first Laertes did but play with Hamlet, and suffered him to
+gain some advantages, which the dissembling king magnified and
+extolled beyond measure, drinking to Hamlet's success and
+wagering rich bets upon the issue. But after a few pauses
+Laertes, growing warm, made a deadly thrust at Hamlet with his
+poisoned weapon, and gave him a mortal blow. Hamlet, incensed,
+but not knowing,the whole of the treachery, in the scuffle
+exchanged his own innocent weapon for Laertes's deadly one, and
+with a thrust of Laertes's own sword repaid Laertes home, who was
+thus justly caught in his own treachery. In this instant the
+queen shrieked out that she was poisoned. She had inadvertently
+drunk out of a bowl which the king had prepared for Hamlet, in
+case that, being warm in fencing, he should call for drink; into
+this the treacherous king had infused a deadly poison, to make
+sure of Hamlet, if Laertes had failed. He had forgotten to warn
+the queen of the bowl, which she drank of, and immediately died,
+exclaiming with her last breath that she was poisoned. Hamlet,
+suspecting some treachery, ordered the doors to be shut while he
+sought it out. Laertes told him to seek no farther, for he was
+the traitor; and feeling his life go away with the wound which
+Hamlet had given him, he made confession of the treachery he had
+used and how he had fallen a victim to it: and he told Hamlet of
+the envenomed point, and said that Hamlet had not half an hour to
+live, for no medicine could cure him; and begging forgiveness of
+Hamlet, he died, with his last words accusing the king of being
+the contriver of the mischief. When Hamlet saw his end draw near,
+there being yet some venom left upon the sword, he suddenly
+turned upon his false uncle and thrust the point of it to his
+heart, fulfilling the promise which he had made to his father's
+spirit, whose injunction was now accomplished and his foul murder
+revenged upon the murderer. Then Hamlet, feeling his breath fail
+and life departing, turned to his dear friend Horatio, who had
+been spectator of this fatal tragedy; and with his dying breath
+requested him that he would live to tell his story to the world
+(for Horatio had made a motion as if he would slay himself to
+accompany the prince in death), and Horatio promised that he
+would make a true report as one that was privy to all the
+circumstances. And, thus satisfied, the noble heart of Hamlet
+cracked; and Horatio and the bystanders with many tears commended
+the spirit of this sweet prince to the guardianship of angels.
+For Hamlet was a loving and a gentle prince and greatly beloved
+for his many noble and princelike qualities; and if he had lived,
+would no doubt have proved a most royal and complete king to
+Denmark.
+
+
+
+OTHELLO
+
+Brabantio, the rich senator of Venice, had a fair daughter, the
+gentle Desdemona. She was sought to by divers suitors, both on
+account of her many virtuous qualities and for her rich
+expectations. But among the suitors of her own clime and
+complexion she saw none whom she could affect, for this noble
+lady, who regarded the mind more than the features of men, with a
+singularity rather to be admired than imitated had chosen for the
+object of her affections a Moor, a black, whom her father loved
+and often invited to his house.
+
+Neither is Desdemona to be altogether condemned for the
+unsuitableness of the person whom she selected for her lover.
+Bating that Othello was black, the noble Moor wanted nothing
+which might recommend him to the affections of the greatest lady.
+He was a soldier, and a brave one; and by his conduct in bloody
+wars against the Turks had risen to the rank of general in the
+Venetian service, and was esteemed and trusted by the state.
+
+He had been a traveler, and Desdemona (as is the manner of
+ladies) loved to hear him tell the story of his adventures, which
+he would run through from his earliest recollection; the battles,
+sieges, and encounters which he had passed through; the perils he
+had been exposed to by land and by water; his hair-breadth
+escapes, when he had entered a breach or marched up to the mouth
+of a cannon; and how he had been taken prisoner by the insolent
+enemy, and sold to slavery; how he demeaned himself in that
+state, and how he escaped: all these accounts, added to the
+narration of the strange things he had seen in foreign countries,
+the vast wilderness and romantic caverns, the quarries, the rocks
+and mountains whose heads are in the clouds; of the savage
+nations, the cannibals who are man-eaters, and a race of people
+in Africa whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders. These
+travelers' stories would so enchain the attention of Desdemona
+that if she were called off at any time by household affairs she
+would despatch with all haste that business, and return, and with
+a greedy ear devour Othello's discourse. And once he took
+advantage of a pliant hour and drew from her a prayer that he
+would tell her the whole story of his life at large, of which she
+had heard so much, but only by parts. To which he consented, and
+beguiled her of many a tear when he spoke of some distressful
+stroke which his youth had suffered.
+
+His story being done, she gave him for his pains a world of
+sighs. She swore a pretty oath that it was all passing strange,
+and pitiful, wondrous pitiful. She wished (she said) she had not
+heard it, yet she wished that Heaven had made her such a man; and
+then she thanked him, and told him, if he had a friend who loved
+her, he had only to teach him how to tell his story and that
+would woo her. Upon this hint, delivered not with more frankness
+than modesty, accompanied with certain bewitching prettiness and
+blushes, which Othello could not but understand, he spoke more
+openly of his love, and in this golden opportunity gained the
+consent of the generous Lady Desdemona privately to marry him.
+
+Neither Othello's color nor his fortune was such that it could be
+hoped Brabantio would accept him for a son-in-law. He had left
+his daughter free; but he did expect that, as the manner of noble
+Venetian ladies was, she would choose erelong a husband of
+senatorial rank or expectations; but in this he was deceived.
+Desdemona loved the Moor, though he was black, and devoted her
+heart and fortunes to his valiant parts and qualities. So was her
+heart subdued to an implicit devotion to the man she had selected
+for a husband that his very color, which to all but this
+discerning lady would have proved an insurmountable objection,
+was by her esteemed above all the white skins and clear
+complexions of the young Venetian nobility, her suitors.
+
+Their marriage, which, though privately carried, could not long
+be kept a secret, came to the ears of the old man, Brabantio, who
+appeared in a solemn council of the senate as an accuser of the
+Moor Othello, who by spells and witchcraft (he maintained) had
+seduced the affections of the fair Desdemona to marry him,
+without the consent of her father, and against the obligations of
+hospitality.
+
+At this juncture of time it happened that the state of Venice had
+immediate need of the services of Othello, news having arrived
+that the Turks with mighty preparation had fitted out a fleet,
+which was bending its course to the island of Cyprus, with intent
+to regain that strong post from the Venetians, who then held it;
+in this emergency the state turned its eyes upon Othello, who
+alone was deemed adequate to conduct the defense of Cyprus
+against the Turks. So that Othello, now summoned before the
+senate, stood in their presence at once as a candidate for a
+great state employment and as a culprit charged with offenses
+which by the laws of Venice were made capital.
+
+The age and senatorial character of old Brabantio commanded a
+most patient hearing from that grave assembly; but the incensed
+father conducted his accusation with so much intemperance,
+producing likelihoods and allegations for proofs, that, when
+Othello was called upon for his defense, he had only to relate a
+plain tale of the course of his love; which he did with such an
+artless eloquence, recounting the whole story of his wooing as we
+have related it above, and delivered his speech with so noble a
+plainness (the evidence of truth) that the duke, who sat as chief
+judge, could not help confessing that a tale so told would have
+won his daughter, too, and the spells and conjurations which
+Othello had used in his courtship plainly appeared to have been
+no more than the honest arts of men in love, and the only
+witchcraft which he had used the faculty of telling a soft tale
+to win a lady's ear.
+
+This statement of Othello was confirmed by the testimony of the
+Lady Desdemona herself, who appeared in court and, professing a
+duty to her father for life and education, challenged leave of
+him to profess a yet higher duty to her lord and husband, even so
+much as her mother had shown in preferring him (Brabantio) above
+HER father.
+
+The old senator, unable to maintain his plea, called the Moor to
+him with many expressions of sorrow, and, as an act of necessity,
+bestowed upon him his daughter, whom, if he had been free to
+withhold her (he told him), he would with all his heart have kept
+from him; adding that he was glad at soul that he had no other
+child, for this behavior of Desdemona would have taught him to be
+a tyrant and hang clogs on them for her desertion.
+
+This difficulty being got over, Othello, to whom custom had
+rendered the hardships of a military life as natural as food and
+rest are to other men, readily undertook the management of the
+wars in Cyprus; and Desdemona, preferring the honor of her lord
+(though with danger) before the indulgence of those idle delights
+in which new-married people usually waste their time, cheerfully
+consented to his going.
+
+No sooner were Othello and his lady landed in Cyprus than news
+arrived that a desperate tempest had dispersed the Turkish fleet,
+and thus the island was secure from any immediate apprehension of
+an attack. But the war which Othello was to suffer was now
+beginning; and the enemies which malice stirred up against his
+innocent lady proved in their nature more deadly than strangers
+or infidels.
+
+Among all the general's friends no one possessed the confidence
+of Othello more entirely than Cassio. Michael Cassio was a young
+soldier, a Florentine, gay, amorous, and of pleasing address,
+favorite qualities with women; he was handsome and eloquent, and
+exactly such a person as might alarm the jealousy of a man
+advanced in years (as Othello in some measure was) who had
+married a young and beautiful wife; but Othello was as free from
+jealousy as he was noble, and as incapable of suspecting as of
+doing a base action. He had employed this Cassio in his love
+affair with Desdemona, and Cassio had been a sort of go-between
+in his suit; for Othello, fearing that himself had not those soft
+parts of conversation which please ladies, and finding these
+qualities in his friend, would often depute Cassio to go (as he
+phrased it) a-courting for him, such innocent simplicity being
+rather an honor than a blemish to the character of the valiant
+Moor. So that no wonder if, next to Othello himself (but at far
+distance, as beseems a virtuous wife), the gentle Desdemona loved
+and trusted Cassio. Nor had the marriage of this couple made any
+difference in their behavior to Michael Cassio. He frequented
+their house, and his free and rattling talk was no unpleasing
+variety to Othello, who was himself of a more serious temper; for
+such tempers are observed often to delight in their contraries,
+as a relief from the oppressive excess of their own; and
+Desdemona and Cassio would talk and laugh together, as in the
+days when he went a-courting for his friend.
+
+Othello had lately promoted Cassio to be the lieutenant, a place
+of trust, and nearest to the general's person. This promotion
+gave great offense to Iago, an older officer who thought he had a
+better claim than Cassio, and would often ridicule Cassio as a
+fellow fit only for the company of ladies and one that knew no
+more of the art of war or how to set an army in array for battle
+than a girl. Iago hated Cassio, and he hated Othello as well for
+favoring Cassio as for an unjust suspicion, which he had lightly
+taken up against Othello, that the Moor was too fond of Iago's
+wife Emilia. From these imaginary provocations the plotting mind
+of Iago conceived a horrid scheme of revenge, which should
+involve Cassio, the Moor, and Desdemona in one common ruin.
+
+Iago was artful, and had studied human nature deeply, and he knew
+that of all the torments which afflict the mind of man (and far
+beyond bodily torture) the pains of jealousy were the most
+intolerable and had the sorest sting. If he could succeed in
+making Othello jealous of Cassio he thought it would be an
+exquisite plot of revenge and might end in the death of Cassio or
+Othello, or both; he cared not.
+
+The arrival of the general and his lady in Cyprus, meeting with
+news of the dispersion of the enemy's fleet, made a sort of
+holiday in the island. Everybody gave himself up to feasting and
+making merry. Wine flowed in abundance, and cups went round to
+the health of the black Othello and his lady the fair Desdemona.
+
+Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge
+from Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that
+no brawl might arise to fright the inhabitants or disgust them
+with the new-landed forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid
+plans of mischief. Under color of loyalty and love to the
+general, he enticed Cassio to make rather too free with the
+bottle (a great fault in an officer upon guard). Cassio for a
+time resisted, but he could not long hold out against the honest
+freedom which Iago knew how to put on, but kept swallowing glass
+after glass (as Iago still plied him with drink and encouraging
+songs), and Cassio's tongue ran over in praise of the Lady
+Desdemona, whom he again and again toasted, affirming that she
+was a most exquisite lady. Until at last the enemy which he put
+into his mouth stole away his brains; and upon some provocation
+given him by a fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn,
+and Montano, a worthy officer, who interfered to appease the
+dispute, was wounded in the scuffle. The riot now began to be
+general, and Iago, who had set on foot the mischief, was foremost
+in spreading the alarm, causing the castle bell to be rung (as if
+some dangerous mutiny instead of a slight drunken quarrel had
+arisen). The alarm-bell ringing awakened Othello, who, dressing
+in a hurry and coming to the scene of action, questioned Cassio
+of the cause.
+
+Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the wine having a
+little gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and Iago,
+pretending a great reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were,
+forced into it by Othello, who insisted to know the truth, gave
+an account of the whole matter (leaving out his own share in it,
+which Cassio was too far gone to remember) in such a manner as,
+while he seemed to make Cassio's offense less, did indeed make it
+appear greater than it was. The result was that Othello, who was
+a strict observer of discipline, was compelled to take away
+Cassio's place of lieutenant from him.
+
+Thus did Iago's first artifice succeed completely; he had now
+undermined his hated rival and thrust him,out of his place; but a
+further use was hereafter to be made of the adventure of this
+disastrous night.
+
+Cassio, whom this misfortune had entirely sobered, now lamented
+to his seeming friend Iago that he should have been such a fool
+as to transform himself into a beast. He was undone, for how
+could he ask the general for his place again? He would tell him
+he was a drunkard. He despised himself. Iago, affecting to make
+light of it, said that he, or any man living, might be drunk upon
+occasion; it remained now to make the best of a bad bargain. The
+general's wife was now the general, and could do anything with
+Othello; that he were best to apply to the Lady Desdemona to
+mediate for him with her lord; that she was of a frank, obliging
+disposition and would readily undertake a good office of this
+sort and set Cassio right again in the general's favor; and then
+this crack in their love would be made stronger than ever. A good
+advice of Iago, if it had not been given for wicked purposes,
+which will after appear.
+
+Cassio did as Iago advised him, and made application to the Lady
+Desdemona, who was easy to be won over in any honest suit; and
+she promised Cassio that she should be his solicitor with her
+lord, and rather die than give up his cause. This she immediately
+set about in so earnest and pretty a manner that Othello, who was
+mortally offended with Cassio, could not put her off. When he
+pleaded delay, and that it was too soon to pardon such an
+offender, she would not be beat back, but insisted that it should
+be the next night, or the morning after, or the next morning to
+that at farthest. Then she showed how penitent and humbled poor
+Cassio was, and that his offense did not deserve so sharp a
+check. And when Othello still hung back:
+
+"What! my lord," said she, "that I should have so much to do to
+plead for Cassio, Michael Cassio, that came a-courting for you,
+and oftentimes, when I have spoken in dispraise of you has taken
+your part! I count this but a little thing to ask of you. When I
+mean to try your love indeed I shall ask a weighty matter."
+
+Othello could deny nothing to such a pleader, and only requesting
+that Desdemona would leave the time to him, promised to receive
+Michael Cassio again in favor.
+
+It happened that Othello and Iago had entered into the room where
+Desdemona was, just as Cassio, who had been imploring her
+intercession, was departing at the opposite door; and Iago, who
+was full of art, said in a low voice, as if to himself, "I like
+not that." Othello took no great notice of what he said; indeed,
+the conference which immediately took place with his lady put it
+out of his head; but he remembered it afterward. For when
+Desdemona was gone, Iago, as if for mere satisfaction of his
+thought, questioned Othello whether Michael Cassio, when Othello
+was courting his lady, knew of his love. To this the general
+answering in the affirmative, and adding, that he had gone
+between them very often during the courtship, Iago knitted his
+brow, as if he had got fresh light on some terrible matter, and
+cried, "Indeed!" This brought into Othello's mind the words which
+Iago had let fall upon entering the room and seeing Cassio with
+Desdemona; and he began to think there was some meaning in all
+this, for he deemed Iago to be a just man, and full of love and
+honesty, and what in a false knave would be tricks in him seemed
+to be the natural workings of an honest mind, big with something
+too great for utterance. And Othello prayed Iago to speak what he
+knew and to give his worst thoughts words.
+
+"And what," said Iago, "if some thoughts very vile should have
+intruded into my breast, as where is the palace into which foul
+things do not enter?" Then Iago went on to say, what a pity it
+were if any trouble should arise to Othello out of his imperfect
+observations; that it would not be for Othello's peace to know
+his thoughts; that people's good names were not to be taken away
+for slight suspicions; and when Othello's curiosity was raised
+almost to distraction with these hints and scattered words, Iago,
+as if in earnest care for Othello's peace of mind, besought him
+to beware of jealousy. With such art did this villain raise
+suspicions in the unguarded Othello, by the very caution which he
+pretended to give him against suspicion.
+
+"I know," said Othello, "that my wife is fair, loves company and
+feasting, is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; but
+where virtue is, these qualities are virtuous. I must have proof
+before I think her dishonest."
+
+Then Iago, as if glad that Othello was slow to believe ill of his
+lady, frankly declared that he had no proof, but begged Othello
+to see her behavior well, when Cassio was by; not to be jealous
+nor too secure neither, for that he (Iago) knew the dispositions
+of the Italian ladies, his country-women, better than Othello
+could do; and that in Venice the wives let Heaven see many pranks
+they dared not show their husbands. Then he artfully insinuated
+that Desdemona deceived her father in marrying with Othello, and
+carried it so closely that the poor old man thought that
+witchcraft had been used. Othello was much moved with this
+argument, which brought the matter home to him, for if she had
+deceived her father why might she not deceive her husband?
+
+Iago begged pardon for having moved him; but Othello, assuming an
+indifference, while he was really shaken with inward grief at
+Iago's words, begged him to go on, which Iago did with many
+apologies, as if unwilling to produce anything against Cassio,
+whom he called his friend. He then came strongly to the point and
+reminded Othello how Desdemona had refused many suitable matches
+of her own clime and complexion, and had married him, a Moor,
+which showed unnatural in her and proved her to have a headstrong
+will; and when her better judgment returned, how probable it was
+she should fall upon comparing Othello with the fine forms and
+clear white complexions of the young Italians her countrymen. He
+concluded with advising Othello to put off his reconcilement with
+Cassio a little longer, and in the mean while to note with what
+earnestness Desdemona should intercede in his behalf; for that
+much would be seen in that. So mischievously did this artful
+villain lay his plots to turn the gentle qualities of this
+innocent lady into her destruction, and make a net for her out of
+her own goodness to entrap her, first setting Cassio on to
+entreat her mediation, and then out of that very mediation
+contriving stratagems for her ruin.
+
+The conference ended with Iago's begging Othello to account his
+wife innocent until he had more decisive proof; and Othello
+promised to be patient; but from that moment the deceived Othello
+never tasted content of mind. Poppy, nor the juice of mandragora,
+nor all the sleeping potions in the world, could ever again
+restore to him that sweet rest which he had enjoyed but
+yesterday. His occupation sickened upon him. He no longer took
+delight in arms. His heart, that used to be roused at the sight
+of troops and banners and battle array, and would stir and leap
+at the sound of a drum or a trumpet or a neighing war-horse,
+seemed to have lost all that pride and ambition which are a
+soldier's virtue; and his military ardor and all his old joys
+forsook him. Sometimes he thought his wife honest, and at times
+he thought her not so; sometimes he thought Iago just, and at
+times he thought him not so; then he would wish that he had never
+known of it; he was not the worse for her loving Cassio, so long
+as he knew it not. Torn to pieces with these distracting
+thoughts, he once laid hold on Iago's throat and demanded proof
+of Desdemona's guilt, or threatened instant death for his having
+belied her. Iago, feigning indignation that his honesty should be
+taken for a vice, asked Othello if he had not sometimes seen a
+handkerchief spotted with strawberries in his wife's hand.
+Othello answered that he had given her such a one, and that it
+was his first gift.
+
+"That same handkerchief," said Iago, "did I see Michael Cassio
+this day wipe his face with."
+
+"If it be as you say," said Othello, "I will not rest till a wide
+revenge swallow them up; and first, for a token of your fidelity,
+I expect that Cassio shall be put to death within three days; and
+for that fair devil [meaning his lady] I will withdraw and devise
+some swift means of death for her."
+
+Trifles light as air are to the jealous proofs as strong as holy
+writ. A handkerchief of his wife's seen in Cassio's hand was
+motive enough to the deluded Othello to pass sentence of death
+upon them both, without once inquiring how Cassio came by it.
+Desdemona had never given such a present to Cassio, nor would
+this constant lady have wronged her lord with doing so naughty a
+thing as giving his presents to another man; both Cassio and,
+Desdemona were innocent of any offense against Othello; but the
+wicked Iago, whose spirits never slept in contrivance of
+villainy, had made his wife (a good, but a weak woman) steal this
+handkerchief from Desdemona, under pretense of getting the work
+copied, but in reality to drop it in Cassio's way, where he might
+find it, and give a handle to Iago's suggestion that it was
+Desdemona's present.
+
+Othello, soon after meeting his wife, pretended that he had a
+headache (as he might indeed with truth), and desired her to lend
+him her handkerchief to hold to his temples. She did so.
+
+"Not this," said Othello, "but that handkerchief I gave you."
+
+Desdemona had it not about her (for indeed it was stolen, as we
+have related).
+
+"How?" said Othello, "this is a fault indeed. That handkerchief
+an Egyptian woman gave to my mother; the woman was a witch and
+could read people's thoughts. She told my mother while she kept
+it it would make her amiable and my father would love her; but if
+she lost it or gave it away, my father's fancy would turn and he
+would loathe her as much as he had loved her. She, dying, gave it
+to me, and bade me, if I ever married, to give it to my wife. I
+did so. Take heed of it. Make it a darling as precious as your
+eye."
+
+"Is it possible?" said the frighted lady.
+
+"'Tis true," continued Othello; "it is a magical handkerchief; a
+sibyl that had lived in the world two hundred years, in a fit of
+prophetic fury worked it; the silkworms that furnished the silk
+were hallowed, and it was dyed in a mummy of maidens' hearts
+conserved."
+
+Desdemona, hearing the wondrous virtues of the handkerchief, was
+ready to die with fear, for she plainly perceived she had lost
+it, and with it, she feared, the affections of her husband. Then
+Othello started and looked as if he were going to do some rash
+thing, and still he demanded the handkerchief, which when she
+could not produce, she tried to divert her husband from too
+serious thoughts, and cheerfully told him she saw all his talk
+about the handkerchief was only to put her off from her suit
+about Michael Cassio, whom she went on to praise (as Iago had
+foretold), till Othello in perfect distraction burst out of the
+room, and then Desdemona, though unwillingly, began to suspect
+that her lord was jealous.
+
+What cause she could have ministered to him she knew not, and
+then she accused herself for accusing the noble Othello, and
+thought, to be sure, that some untoward news from Venice or some
+state troubles had puddled his spirits and made his temper not so
+sweet as formerly. And she said, "Men are not gods, and we must
+not look for that observance from them when they are married
+which they show us on the bridal day." And she beshrewed herself
+for so unkindly judging of his unkindness.
+
+Again Othello and Desdemona met, and he accused her more plainly
+of being unfaithful and of loving another man, but he did not
+name whom. And Othello wept, and Desdemona said, "Alas! the heavy
+day! why do you weep?" And Othello told her he could have borne
+all sorts of evils with fortitude--poverty, and disease, and
+disgrace--but her infidelity had broken his heart. And he called
+her a weed that looked so fair and smelled so sweet that the
+sense ached at it; and wished she had never been born. And when
+he had left her this innocent lady was so stupefied with wonder
+at her lord's untrue suspicion of her that a weightlike sleep
+came over her, and she only desired her attendant to make her bed
+and to lay her wedding-sheets upon it, saying that when people
+teach their babes they do it by gentle means and easy tasks, and
+Othello might have chid her so; for in good faith she was but a
+child when she was chidden. And this was all the complaint which
+this gentle lady made.
+
+Desdemona being retired to bed, expecting her lord would follow
+her, soon fell into a slumber, the effect of her troubled
+spirits, when Othello entered the chamber, full of the black
+purpose which he had meditated, of putting his lady to death. But
+when he saw her asleep he thought he would not shed her blood,
+nor scar that white skin of hers, more white than alabaster. But
+he was resolved she should die, else (as he said) she would live
+to betray, more men as she had done him. Then he kissed her for
+the last time (as he said), and that kiss was so sweet that he
+must needs kiss her again; and he wept, but he said they were
+cruel tears.
+
+Desdemona was awakened with his kisses, and she looked upon
+Othello, and she saw him gnaw his under lip and roll his eyes,
+and she knew he was always fatal when he looked so; and he bade
+her prepare for death and to say her prayers, for he would not
+kill her soul. And this innocent wife, as she lay at his mercy,
+begged for compassion and to know her fault, and then he named
+Cassio, and the handkerchief which (he said) she had given him;
+and as the guiltless lady was proceeding to clear herself he
+suddenly would hear no more, but, covering her up in the
+bedclothes, stifled her till she died.
+
+In this instant of time was brought into the house Cassio,
+wounded and bleeding, whom Iago had set one of his creatures on
+to assassinate; but the fellow not succeeding in his attempt to
+kill Cassio (whom he wounded, but not mortally), and being him-
+self killed by Iago to prevent discovery, in his pockets were
+found certain letters, which made the guilt of Iago, and the
+innocence of Cassio, clear beyond all doubt; and Cassio now came
+to beg pardon of Othello, and to ask wherein he had offended him,
+that he had employed Iago to murder him.
+
+This discovery was as a thunderstroke to Othello, who now plainly
+saw that he was no better than a murderer, and that his wife
+(poor innocent lady) had been ever faithful to him; the extreme
+anguish of which discovery making life insupportable, he fell
+upon his sword, and throwing himself upon the body of his dear
+injured lady, expired.
+
+These rash acts raised much passion of horror and amazement in
+the bystanders, for Othello had borne a fair reputation, and till
+he was wrought upon by the arts of a villain, which his own noble
+nature never gave him leave to suspect, he was a loving and a
+doting husband. He had loved not wisely, but too well; and his
+manly eyes (when be learned his mistake), though not used to weep
+on every small occasion, dropped tears as fast as the Arabian
+trees their gum. And when he was dead all his former merits and
+his valiant acts were remembered. Nothing now remained for his
+successor but to put the utmost censure of the law in force
+against Iago, who was executed with strict tortures; and to send
+word to the state of Venice of the lamentable death of their
+renowned general.
+
+
+
+PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+Pericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his
+dominions, to avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the
+wicked emperor of Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects
+and city of Tyre, in revenge for a discovery which the prince had
+made of a shocking deed which the emperor had done in secret; as
+commonly it proves dangerous to pry into the hidden crimes of
+great ones. Leaving the government of his people in the hands of
+his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail from
+Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who
+was mighty, should be appeased.
+
+The first place which the prince directed his course to was
+Tarsus, and hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time
+suffering under a severe famine, he took with him a store of
+provisions for its relief. On his arrival he found the city
+reduced to the utmost distress; and, he coming like a messenger
+from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the governor of
+Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks. Pericles had not been
+here many days before letters came from his faithful minister,
+warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for
+Antiochus knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched
+for that purpose sought his life. Upon receipt of these letters
+Pericles put out to sea again, amid the blessings and prayers of
+a whole people who had been fed by his bounty.
+
+He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful
+storm, and every man on board perished except Pericles, who was
+cast by the sea waves naked on an unknown shore, where he had not
+wandered long before he met with some poor fishermen, who invited
+him to their homes, giving him clothes and provisions. The
+fishermen told Pericles the name of their country was Pentapolis,
+and that their king was Simonides, commonly called the good
+Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.
+From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young
+daughter, and that the following day was her birthday, when a
+grand tournament was to be held at court, many princes and
+knights being come from all parts to try their skill in arms for
+the love of Thaisa, this fair princess. While the prince was
+listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss of his
+good armor, which disabled him from making one among these
+valiant knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of
+armor that he had taken out of the sea with his fishing-net,
+which proved to be the very armor he had lost. When Pericles
+beheld his own armor he said: "Thanks, Fortune; after all my
+crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This armor was
+bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have so
+loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me,
+and the rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm,
+hath given it back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have
+my father's gift again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune."
+
+The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father's armor, repaired
+to the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at
+the tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and
+valiant princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of
+Thaisa's love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments
+for the love of kings' daughters, if one proved sole victor over
+all the rest, it was usual for the great lady for whose sake
+these deeds of valor were undertaken to bestow all her respect
+upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did not depart from this custom,
+for she presently dismissed all the princes and knights whom
+Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her especial
+favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as
+king of that day's happiness; and Pericles became a most
+passionate lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment
+he beheld her.
+
+The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble
+qualities of Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished
+gentleman and well learned in all excellent arts, that though he
+knew not the rank of this royal stranger (for Pericles for fear
+of Antiochus gave out that he was a private gentleman of Tyre),
+yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the valiant unknown
+for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter's affections
+were firmly fixed upon him.
+
+Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he
+received intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that
+his subjects of Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened
+to revolt and talked of placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne.
+This news came from Helicanus himself, who, being a loyal subject
+to his royal master, would not accept of the high dignity
+offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their intentions, that
+he might return home and resume his lawful right. It was matter
+of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his
+son-in-law (the obscure knight) was the renowned Prince of Tyre;
+yet again he regretted that he was not the private gentleman he
+supposed him to be, seeing that he must now part both with his
+admired son-in-law and his beloved daughter, whom he feared to
+trust to the perils of the sea, because Thaisa was with child;
+and Pericles himself wished her to remain with her father till
+after her confinement; but the poor lady so earnestly desired to
+go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she would
+reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.
+
+The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long
+before they reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so
+terrified Thaisa that she was taken ill, and in a short space of
+time her nurse, Lychorida, came to Pericles with a little child
+in her arms, to tell the prince the sad tidings that his wife
+died the moment her little babe was born. She held the babe
+toward its father, saying:
+
+"Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of
+your dead queen."
+
+No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he
+heard his wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said:
+
+"O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then
+snatch those gifts away?"
+
+"Patience, good sir," said Lychorida, "here is all that is left
+alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child's
+sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this
+precious charge."
+
+Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the
+little babe: "Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous
+birth had never babe! May your condition be mild and gentle, for
+you have had the rudest welcome that ever prince's child did meet
+with! May that which follows be happy, for you have had as
+chiding a nativity as fire, air, water, earth, and heaven could
+make to herald you from the womb! Even at the first, your loss,"
+meaning in the death of her mother, "is more than all the joys,
+which you shall find upon this earth to which you are come a new
+visitor, shall be able to recompense."
+
+The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors
+having a superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship
+the storm would never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that
+his queen should be thrown overboard; and they said:
+
+"What courage, sir? God save you!"
+
+"Courage enough," said the sorrowing prince. "I do not fear the
+storm; it has done to me its worst; yet for the love of this poor
+infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over."
+
+"Sir," said the sailors, "your queen must overboard. The sea
+works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till
+the ship be cleared of the dead."
+
+Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition
+was, yet he patiently submitted, saying: "As you think meet. Then
+she must overboard, most wretched queen!"
+
+And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear
+wife, and as he looked on his Thaisa he said: "A terrible
+childbed hast thou had, my dear; no light, no fire; the
+unfriendly elements forget thee utterly, nor have I time to bring
+thee hallowed to thy grave, but must cast thee scarcely coffined
+into the sea, where for a monument upon thy bones the humming
+waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple shells. O
+Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket
+and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin. Lay
+the babe upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida,
+while I say a priestly farewell to my Thaisa."
+
+They brought Pericles a large chest, in which (wrapped in a satin
+shroud) he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed
+over her, and beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written
+paper telling who she was and praying if haply any one should
+find the chest which contained the body of his wife they would
+give her burial; and then with his own hands he cast the chest
+into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered the
+sailors to make for Tarsus. "For," said Pericles, "the babe
+cannot hold out till we come to Tyre. At Tarsus I will leave it
+at careful nursing."
+
+After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea,
+and while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy
+gentleman of Ephesus and a most skilful physician, was standing
+by the seaside, his servants brought to him a chest, which they
+said the sea waves had thrown on the land.
+
+"I never saw," said one of them, "so huge a billow as cast it on
+our shore."
+
+Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and
+when it was opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and
+lovely lady; and the sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of
+jewels made him conclude it was some great person who was thus
+strangely entombed. Searching farther, he discovered a paper,
+from which he learned that the corpse which lay as dead before
+him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre; and
+much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more
+pitying the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said:
+"If you are living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks
+with woe." Then, observing attentively Thaisa's face, he saw how
+fresh and unlike death her looks were, and he said, "They were
+too hasty that threw you into the sea"; for he did not believe
+her to be dead. He ordered a fire to be made, and proper cordials
+to be brought, and soft music to be played, which might help to
+calm her amazed spirits if she should revive; and he said to
+those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw, "O, I
+pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she has
+not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow
+into life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this
+fair creature will live to make us weep to hear her fate."
+
+Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had
+fallen into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her
+to be dead; and now by the care of this kind gentleman she once
+more revived to light and life; and, opening her eyes, she said:
+
+"Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this?"
+
+By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen
+her; and when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the
+sight he showed her the paper written by her husband, and the
+jewels; and she looked on the paper and said:
+
+"It is my lord's writing. That I was shipped at sea I well
+remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy
+gods I cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never
+shall see again, I will put on a vestal livery and never more
+have joy."
+
+"Madam," said Cerimon, "if you purpose as you speak, the temple
+of Diana is not far distant from hence; there you may abide as a
+vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there
+attend you." This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa;
+and when she was perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the
+temple of Diana, where she became a vestal or priestess of that
+goddess, and passed her days in sorrowing for her husband's
+supposed loss, and in the most devout exercises of those times.
+
+Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina,
+because she was born at sea) to Tarsus, intending to leave her
+with Cleon, the governor of that city, and his wife Dionysia,
+thinking, for the good he had done to them at the time of their
+famine, they would be kind to his little motherless daughter.
+When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great loss which
+had befallen him he said, "Oh, your sweet queen, that it had
+pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed
+my eyes with the sight of her!"
+
+Pericles replied: "We must obey the powers above us. Should I
+rage and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end
+must be as it is. My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your
+charity with her. I leave her the infant of your care, beseeching
+you to give her princely training." And then turning to Cleon's
+wife, Dionysia, he said, "Good madam, make me blessed in your
+tare in bringing up my child."
+
+And she answered, "I have a child myself who shall not be more
+dear to my respect than yours, my lord."
+
+And Cleon made the like promise, saying: "Your noble services,
+Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn (for
+which in their prayers they daily remember you) must in your
+child be thought on. If I should neglect your child, my whole
+people that were by you relieved would force me to my duty; but
+if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge it on me and mine to
+the end of generation."
+
+Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully
+attended to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife
+Dionysia, and with her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went
+away the little Marina knew not her loss, but Lychorida wept
+sadly at parting with her royal master.
+
+"Oh, no tears, Lychorida," said Pericles; "no tears; look to your
+little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter."
+
+Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in
+the quiet possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom
+he thought dead, remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina,
+whom this hapless mother had never seen, was brought up by Cleon
+in a manner suitable to her high birth. He gave her the most
+careful education, so that by the time Marina attained the age of
+fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not more studied
+in the learning of those times than was Marina. She sang like one
+immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was
+so skilful that she seemed to compose nature's own shapes in
+birds, fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more
+like to each other than they were to Marina's silken flowers. But
+when she had gained from education all these graces which made
+her the general wonder, Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her
+mortal enemy from jealousy, by reason that her own daughter, from
+the slowness of her mind, was not able to attain to that
+perfection wherein Marina excelled; and finding that all praise
+was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same
+age and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though
+not with the same success, was in comparison disregarded, she
+formed a project to remove Marina out of the way, vainly
+imagining that her untoward daughter would be more respected when
+Marina was no more seen. To encompass this she employed a man to
+murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design, when
+Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died. Dionysia was
+discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder
+when the young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida.
+Leonine, the man she employed to do this bad deed, though he was
+a very wicked man, could hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so
+had Marina won all hearts to love her. He said:
+
+"She is a goodly creature!"
+
+"The fitter then the gods should have her," replied her merciless
+enemy. "Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse
+Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me?"
+
+Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied, "I am resolved." And
+so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed
+to an untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of
+flowers in her hand, which she said she would daily strew over
+the grave of good Lychorida. The purple violet and the marigold
+should as a carpet hang upon her grave, while summer days did
+last.
+
+"Alas for met" she said, "poor unhappy maid, born in a tempest,
+when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+hurrying me from my friends."
+
+"How now, Marina," said the dissembling Dionysia, "do you weep
+alone? How does it chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+sorrow for Lychorida; you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is
+quite changed with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your
+flowers--the sea air will spoil them--and walk with Leonine; the
+air is fine, and will enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the
+arm and walk with her."
+
+"No, madam," said Marina, "I pray you let me not deprive you of
+your servant"; for Leonine was one of Dionysia's attendants.
+
+"Come, come," said this artful woman, who wished for a pretense
+to leave her alone with Leonine, "I love the prince, your father,
+and I love you. We every day expect your father here; and when he
+comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of
+beauty we reported you, he will think we have taken no care of
+you. Go, I pray you, walk, and be cheerful once again. Be careful
+of that excellent complexion which stole the hearts of old and
+young."
+
+Marina, being thus importuned, said, "Well, I will go, but yet I
+have no desire to it."
+
+As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine, "Remember what I
+have said!" shocking words, for their meaning was that he should
+remember to kill Marina.
+
+Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said, "Is the
+wind westerly that blows?"
+
+"Southwest," replied Leonine.
+
+"When I was born the wind was north," said she; and then the
+storm and tempest and all her father's sorrows, and her mother's
+death, came full into her mind, and she said, "My father, as
+Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD
+SEAMEN, to the sailors, galling his princely hands with the
+ropes, and, clasping to the masts, he endured a sea that almost
+split the deck."
+
+"When was this?" said Leonine.
+
+"When I was born," replied Marina. "Never were wind and waves
+more violent." And then she described the storm, the action of
+the sailors, the boatswain's whistle, and the loud call of the
+master, which," said she, "trebled the confusion of the ship."
+
+Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her
+hapless birth that these things seemed ever present to her
+imagination. But here Leonine interrupted her with desiring her
+to say her prayers. "What mean you?" said Marina, who began to
+fear, she knew not why.
+
+"If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it," said
+Leonine; "but be not tedious; the gods are quick of ear and I am
+sworn to do my work in haste."
+
+"Will you kill me?" said Marina. "Alas! why?"
+
+"To satisfy my lady," replied Leonine.
+
+"Why would she have me killed?" said Marina. "Now, as I can
+remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word
+nor did any ill turn to any living creature. Believe me now, I
+never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod upon a worm once
+against my will, but I wept for it. How have I offended?"
+
+The murderer replied, "My commission is not to reason on the
+deed, but to do it." And he was just going to kill her when
+certain pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing
+Marina, bore her off as a prize to their ship.
+
+The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene
+and sold her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition,
+Marina soon became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene
+for her beauty and her virtues, and the person to whom she was
+sold became rich by the money she earned for him. She taught
+music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the money she got by
+her scholars she gave to her master and mistress; and the fame of
+her learning and her great industry came to the knowledge of
+Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and
+Lysimachus went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see
+this paragon of excellence whom all the city praised so highly.
+Her conversation delighted Lysimachus beyond measure, for,
+though he had heard much of this admired maiden, he did not
+expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and so good,
+as he perceived Marina to be; and he left her, saying he hoped
+she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and
+that if ever she heard from him again it should be for her good.
+Lysimachus thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine
+breeding, and excellent qualities, as well as for beauty and all
+outward graces, that he wished to marry her, and, notwithstanding
+her humble situation, he hoped to find that her birth was noble;
+but whenever when they asked her parentage she would sit still
+and weep.
+
+Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told
+her he had killed Marina; and that wicked woman gave out that she
+was dead, and made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a
+stately monument; and shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his
+loyal minister Helicanus, made a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on
+purpose to see his daughter, intending to take her home with him.
+And he never having beheld her since he left her an infant in the
+care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince rejoice at
+the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen! But
+when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they
+had erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched
+father endured, and, not being able to bear the sight of that
+country where his last hope and only memory of his dear Thaisa
+was entombed, he took ship and hastily departed from Tarsus. From
+the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy melancholy seized
+him. He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to everything
+around him.
+
+Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by
+Mitylene, where Marina dwelt; the governor of which place,
+Lysimachus, observing this royal vessel from the shore, and
+desirous of knowing who was on board, went in a barge to the side
+of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity. Helicanus received him
+very courteously and told him that the ship came from Tyre, and
+that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince. "A man
+sir," said Helicanus, "who has not spoken to any one these three
+months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his grief;
+it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper,
+but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a
+wife."
+
+Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he
+beheld Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he
+said to him: "Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you! Hail,
+royal sir!"
+
+But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor
+did he appear to perceive any stranger approached. And then
+Lysimachus bethought him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply
+with her sweet tongue she might win some answer from the silent
+prince; and with the consent of Helicanus he sent for Marina, and
+when she entered the ship in which her own father sat motionless
+with grief, they welcomed her on board as if they had known she
+was their princess; and they cried:
+
+"She is a gallant lady."
+
+Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he
+said:
+
+"She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble
+birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed
+in a wife." And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the
+lowly seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find
+her, calling her FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL MARINA, telling her a great
+prince on board that ship had fallen into a sad and mournful
+silence; and, as if Marina had the power of conferring health
+and felicity, he begged she would undertake to cure the royal
+stranger of his melancholy.
+
+"Sir," said Marina, "I will use my utmost skill in his recovery,
+provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him."
+
+She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth,
+ashamed to tell that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first
+began to speak to Pericles of the wayward changes in her own
+fate, telling him from what a high estate herself had fallen. As
+if she had known it was her royal father she stood before, all
+the words she spoke were of her own sorrows; but her reason for
+so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the attention of the
+unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to match their
+own. The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince; he
+lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless;
+and Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to
+his amazed sight the features of his dead queen. The long silent
+prince was once more heard to speak.
+
+"My dearest wife," said the awakened Pericles, "was like this
+maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen's
+square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as
+silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like. Where do you live, young
+maid? Report your parentage. I think you said you had been tossed
+from wrong to injury, and that you thought your griefs would
+equal mine, if both were opened."
+
+"Some such thing I said," replied Marina, "and said no more than
+what my thoughts did warrant me as likely."
+
+"Tell me your story," answered Pericles. "If I find you have
+known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your
+sorrows like a man and I have suffered like a girl; yet you do
+look like Patience gazing on kings' graves and smiling extremely
+out of act. How lost you your name, my most kind virgin? Recount
+your story, I beseech you. Come, sit by me."
+
+How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for
+he knew it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself
+for his own child to signify SEA-BORN.
+
+"Oh, I am mocked," said he, "and you are sent hither by some
+incensed god to make the world laugh at me."
+
+"Patience, good sir," said Marina, "or I must cease here."
+
+"Na@," said Pericles, "I will be patient. You little know how you
+do startle me, to call yourself Marina."
+
+"The name," she replied, "was given me by one that had some
+power, my father and a king."
+
+"How, a king's daughter!" said Pericles, "and called Marina! But
+are you flesh and blood? Are you no fairy? Speak on. Where were
+you born, and wherefore called Marina?"
+
+She replied: "I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My
+mother was the daughter of a king; she died the minute I was
+born, as my good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping. The
+king, my father, left me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon
+sought to murder me. A crew of pirates came and rescued me and
+brought me here to Mitylene. But, good sir, why do you weep? It
+may be you think me an impostor. But indeed, sir, I am the
+daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living."
+
+Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and
+doubtful if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants,
+who rejoiced at the sound of their beloved king's voice; and he
+said to Helicanus:
+
+"O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain,
+lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores
+of my mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea,
+buried at Tarsus, and found at sea again. O Helicanus, down on
+your knees, thank the holy gods! This is Marina. Now blessings on
+thee, my child! Give me fresh garments, mine own Helicanus! She
+is not dead at Tarsus as she should have been by the savage
+Dionysia. She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel to her and
+call her your very Princess. Who is this?" (observing Lysimachus
+for the first time).
+
+"Sir," said Helicanus, "it is the governor of Mitylene, who,
+hearing of your melancholy, came to see you."
+
+"I embrace you, sir," said Pericles. "Give me my robes! I am well
+with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl! But hark, what music is
+that?"--for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own
+delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
+
+"My lord, I hear none," replied Helicanus.
+
+"None?" said Pericles. "Why, it is the music of the spheres."
+
+As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the
+sudden joy had unsettled the prince's understanding, and he said,
+"It is not good to cross him; let him have his way." And then
+they told him they heard the music; and he now complaining of a
+drowsy slumber coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest
+on a couch, and, placing a pillow under his head, he, quite
+overpowered with excess of joy, sank into a sound sleep, and
+Marina watched in silence by the couch of her sleeping parent.
+
+While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve
+to go to Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the
+Ephesians, appeared to him and commanded him to go to her temple
+at Ephesus, and there before her altar to declare the story of
+his life and misfortunes; and by her silver bow she swore that if
+he performed her injunction he should meet with some rare
+felicity. When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he told
+his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the
+goddess.
+
+Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh
+himself with such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene,
+which courteous offer Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with
+him for the space of a day or two. During which time we may well
+suppose what feastings, what rejoicings, what costly shows and
+entertainments the governor made in Mitylene to greet the royal
+father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure fortunes he had so
+respected. Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus's suit, when he
+understood how he had honored his child in the days of her low
+estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his
+proposals; only he made it a condition, before he gave his
+consent, that they should visit with him the shrine of the
+Ephesian Diana; to whose temple they shortly after all three
+undertook a voyage; and, the goddess herself filling their sails
+with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived in safety
+at Ephesus.
+
+There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles
+with his train entered the temple, the good Cerimon (now grown
+very aged), who had restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to
+life; and Thaisa, now a priestess of the temple, was standing
+before the altar; and though the many years he had passed in
+sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles, Thaisa thought she
+knew her husband's features, and when he approached the altar and
+began to speak, she remembered his voice, and listened to his
+words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were the
+words that Pericles spoke before the altar:
+
+"Hail, Diana! to perform thy just commands I here confess myself
+the Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis
+wedded the fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought
+forth a maid-child called Marina. She at Tarsus was nursed with
+Dionysia, who at fourteen years thought to kill her, but her
+better stars brought her to Mitylene, by whose shores as I sailed
+her good fortunes brought this maid on board, where by her most
+clear remembrance she made herself known to be my daughter."
+
+Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised
+in her, cried out, "You are, you are, O royal Pericles" and
+fainted.
+
+"What means this woman?" said Pericles. "She dies! Gentlemen,
+help."
+
+"Sir," said Cerimon, "if you have told Diana's altar true, this
+is your wife."
+
+"Reverend gentleman, no," said Pericles. "I threw her overboard
+with these very arms."
+
+Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this
+lady was thrown upon the Ephesian shore; how, opening the coffin,
+he found therein rich jewels and a paper; how, happily, he
+recovered her and placed her here in Diana's temple.
+
+And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said: "O my lord,
+are you not Pericles? Like him you speak, like him you are. Did
+you not name a tempest, a birth, and death?"
+
+He, astonished, said, "The voice of dead Thaisa!"
+
+"That Thaisa am I," she replied, "supposed dead and drowned."
+
+"O true Diana!" exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout
+astonishment.
+
+"And now," said Thaisa, "I know you better. Such a ring as I see
+on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears
+parted from him at Pentapolis."
+
+"Enough, you gods!" cried Pericles. "Your present kindness makes
+my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a second time
+within these arms."
+
+And Marina said, "My heart leaps to be gone into my mother's
+bosom."
+
+Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying, "Look
+who kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and
+called Marina because she was yielded there."
+
+"Blessed and my own!" said Thaisa. And while she hung in
+rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar,
+saying:
+
+"Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer
+oblations nightly to thee."
+
+And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa,
+solemnly affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the
+well-deserving Lysimachus in marriage.
+
+Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous
+example of virtue assailed by calamity (through the sufferance of
+Heaven, to teach patience and constancy to men), under the same
+guidance becoming finally successful and triumphing over chance
+and change. In Helicanus we have beheld a notable pattern of
+truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he might have succeeded
+to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful owner to his
+possession than to become great by another's wrong. In the worthy
+Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how
+goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon
+mankind approaches to the nature of the gods. It only remains to
+be told that Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end
+proportionable to her deserts. The inhabitants of Tarsus, when
+her cruel attempt upon Marina was known, rising in a body to
+revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and setting fire to the
+palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their whole
+household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder,
+though but intentional and never carried into act, should be
+punished in a way befitting its enormity.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Tales From Shakespeare, by the Lambs
+
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