Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 As you like it
 Much ado about nothing
 A midsummer night's dream
 Measure for measure
 The taming of the shrew
 Twelfth night; or, what you...
 Pericles, prince of Tyre
 The winter's tale
 All's well that ends well
 The two gentlemen of Verona
 Back Cover

Group Title: Tales from Shakspeare : designed for the use of young people
Title: Tales from Shakspeare
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055052/00002
 Material Information
Title: Tales from Shakspeare designed for the use of young people
Alternate Title: Tales from Shakespeare
Physical Description: 2 v. : ill. (some col.) ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Lamb, Charles, 1775-1834
Lamb, Mary, 1764-1847 ( Author )
Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616
Gilbert, John, 1817-1897 ( Illustrator )
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Richard Clay and Sons ( Printer )
Publisher: George Routledge and Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
New York
Manufacturer: Richard Clay & Sons
Publication Date: [1887?]
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1887   ( lcsh )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1887   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1887
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
England -- Suffolk -- Bungay
Statement of Responsibility: by Charles Lamb ; with illustrations by Sir John Gilbert.
General Note: Date of publication from prize inscription.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00055052
Volume ID: VID00002
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232685
notis - ALH3081
oclc - 68181721

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Table of Contents
        Page 3
        Page 4
    As you like it
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
    Much ado about nothing
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    A midsummer night's dream
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
    Measure for measure
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    The taming of the shrew
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
    Twelfth night; or, what you will
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
    Pericles, prince of Tyre
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
    The winter's tale
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    All's well that ends well
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
    The two gentlemen of Verona
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text

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M A C B E T H.



Afxr the vse of vaung $stapte







AS YOU LIKE IT ... .. ... ... ... 5

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING .. ... ... ... 22

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM ... ... ... ... 35

MEASURE FOR MEASURE ... ... ... ... 49

THE TAMIING OF THE SHREW ... ... ... ... 65


PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE .. ... .. ... 90

THE WINTER'S TALE ... ... ... ... ... 107

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL ... ... ... ... 119


CYIBELINE ... ... ... ... ... ... 146



DURING the time that France was divided into provinces
(or dukedoms as they were called) there reigned in one of
these provinces an 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 splendour 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
counsellors : 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.

6 Tales from Shaksfeare.
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
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 melan-
choly, 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, nt sweet cousin,
be merry," a messenger entered from theh'ike, to tell them
that if they wished to see a wrestling rptch, 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 favourite 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 long been 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

As You Like It. 7
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 gra-
cious ; 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 per-
formed 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

8 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 to 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
humour. Hating to hear the very name of any of his
brother's friends, and yet stih admiring the valour 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 favourite
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 P"
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 I do not hate
Frederick being enraged at the sight of sir Rowland de
Boys' 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

As You Like It. 9
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 favour, 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. Rosa-
1 d 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 Ganimede, 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 nowbe called)
with her manly garb seemed to have put on a manly courage.

io Tales from Shaksfeare.
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 com-
fort 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 them-
selves, and have perished for want of food; but, providen-
tially, 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 travelling, and faints for want
of food."
The man replied, that he was only 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

As You Like It. IT
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 he had once been the
same lady Rosalind who had so dearly loved .the brave
Orlando, because he 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 travelled, 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 com-
mands 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 he
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 this 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

12 Tales from Shaksfeare.
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: "0 my gentle master, my sweet
master, 0 you memory of old sir Rowland I why are you
virtuous 1 why are you gentle, strong, and valiant 1 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." "0 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
Together then this faithful servant and his loved master
set out; and Orlando and Adam travelled 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, 0 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,

As You Like It. 13
and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant trees;
and he said to him; heerly, old Adam, rest your weary
limbs here a while, 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 cover 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 q 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 habit-
ation 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 ddwn,
and take of our refreshment as much as will minister to
'our 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

14 Tales from Shakspeare.
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,
he 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 favour, 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 he thought he saw alikeness 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 humour talked
to Orlando of a certain lover, "who," said he, 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



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,n v:,, ,

16 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 pro-
pose 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 th at the lady Rosalind had not yet made herself
known to the duke her father, whose place of resort in the
forest they had learnt 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 a 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 explana-
tion 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, see-

As You Like It. 17
ing Orlando approach, glided away among the bushes.
Orlando went nearer, and then he discovered a lioness
lie couching, with her head on the ground, with a cat-like
watch, waiting till 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 tempt-
ed 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
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 there-
fore 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 Oliverwent, 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,

18 Tales from Shakspeare.
who had so cruelly used him; and then he told them of
their reconciliation.
The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offences
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
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 favourable 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 shep-
herd, and settle his estate and house at home upon Orlando.
"You have my consent," said Orlando. "Let your wed-
ding 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 per-
ceived approaching, came to inquire after the health of his
wounded friend.
When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sud-
den love which had taken place between Oliver and Aliena

As You Like It. 19
Orlando said he 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, he pretended
he would bring to pass by the aid of magic, which he said he
had learnt 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 mar-
riage, 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 I" "That I would," said Orlando, "if I were king of
many kingdoms."
Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and Gany-
mede throwing off his male attire, and being once more

20 Tales from Shakspeare.
dressed in woman's apparel, quicklybecame Rosalind without
the power of magic; and Aliena, changing her country garb
for her own rich clothes, was with as little trouble trans-
formed 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
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 or splendour 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 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
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 to 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

As You Like It. 2t
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 re-
solved, 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 he 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 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.

22 Tales from Shakspeare.


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 had 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, signior
Benedick; nobody marks you." Benedick was just such
another rattle-brain 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 remem-
bered, 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 Bene-
dick and Beatrice; these two sharp wits never met in former

Much Ado About Nothing. 23
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 1" And now war broke out afresh between them, and
a long jangling argument ensued, during which Beatrice,
although she knew he had so well approved his valour in the
last war, said that she would eat all he had killed there :
and observing the prince take delight in Benedick's convers-
ation, she called him the prince's jester." This sarcasm sunk
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 had killed, he did not regard, know-
ing 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 admir-
able 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 Bene-
dick." Leonato replied to this suggestion, O my lord, my
lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk them-
selves 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 I"

24 Tales from Shakspeare.
To this question Claudio replied, "0 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 deli-
cate 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 he lost no time in soliciting the consent of
Leonato to accept Claudio for a son-in-law. Leonato
agreed to this proposal, and the prince found no great diffi-
culty 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 an opportunity when Benedick was
quietly seated reading in an arbour, the prince and his assist-
ants took their station among the trees behind the arbour, 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

Much Ado About Nothing. 25
niece Beatrice was in love with signior 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 behaviour seemed ever to dislike." Claudio
confirmed all this, with saying that Hero had 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 hearken to all this with great com-
passion 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
Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this
conversation; and he said to himself when he 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 beno 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 saythe lady
is virtuous and fair. She is so. And wise in everything but
in 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,

26 Tales from Shakspeare.
Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kind-
ness 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 parlour; 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 arbour, where honeysuckles, ripened
by the sun, like ungrateful minions, forbid the sun to enter."
This arbour, into which Hero desired Margaret to entice
Beatrice, was the very same pleasant arbour 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." Cer-
tainly," replied Ursula, "it were not good she knew his love,
lest she made sport of it." "Why, to say truth," said Hero,
" I never yet saw a man, how wise soever, or noble, young, or
rarely featured, buf 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,

Much Ado About. Nothing. 27
she would mock me into air." 0 you wrong your cousin,"
said Ursula: "she cannot be so much without true judgment
as to refuse so rare a gentleman as signior 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 dar, 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 my 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 sightto 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-humoured 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 labour in the contriving of villanies.. 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 plea-
sure 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 pur-
pose, he employed one. Borachio, a man as bad as himself,
whom he encouraged with the offer of a great reward. Thus
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

28 Tales from Shaksfede.
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 con-
sented 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 he 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 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 pro-
nounce the marriage ceremony, when Claudio, in the most
passionate language, proclaimed the guilt of the blameless
Hero, who, amazed at the strange words he uttered, said
"Is my lord well, that he does speak so wide 1"
Leonato, in the utmost horror, said to the prince, My
lord, why speak not you?"
What should I speak ?" said the prince; I stand dis-
honoured, that have gone about to link my dear friend to

Much Ado About Nothing. 29
an unworthy woman. Leonato, upon my honour, myself, my
brother, and this grieved Claudio, did see and hear 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 sunk down in a fainting fit, to all appear-
ance 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 observ-
ation 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 he 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 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 con-
versed 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 misunderstand-

30 Tales from Shaksfeare.
ing in the prince and Claudio;" and then he counselled
Leonato, that he should report that Hero was dead; and he
said, that the death-like 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 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 I hope for. When Olaudio 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 he had
not so accused her: yea, though he thought his accusation
Benedick now said, "Leonato, let the friar advise you;
and though you know how well I love the prince and
Claudio, yet on my honour I will not reveal this secret to
Leonato, thus persuaded, yielded; and he said sorrow-
fully, "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 re-
mained 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 merri-
ment seemed for ever banished.
Benedick was the first who spoke, and he said, "Lady
Beatrice, have you wept all this while?" "Yea, and I will
weep a while 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,

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32 Tales from Shakspeare.
and I protest I love you. Come, bid me do anything for
you." "Kill Claudio," said Beatrice. "Ha! not for the
wide 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 dis-
honoured my cousin?" said Beatrice: "O that I were a
man!" "Hear me, Beatrice !" said Benedick. But Beatrice
would hear nothing in Claudio's defence; and she con-
tinued 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 slan-
dered; she is undone. O that I were a man for Claudio's
sake or that I had any friend, who would be a man for my
sake but valour 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 Bene-
dick: "by this hand, I love you." "Use it for my love
some other way than by swearing by it," said Beatrice.
" Think you, on your soul, that Claudio has wronged Hero '
asked Benedick. "Yea," answered Beatrice; "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, he 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 he also challenged Claudio to
answer with his sword the injury he 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
I-eaven at the moment brought to pass a better proof of

Much Ado About Nothing. 33
the innocence of Hero than the uncertain fortune of a
While the prince and Claudio were yet talking of the
challenge of Benedick, a magistrate brought Boraohio 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
hearing, 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 re-
moved by the flight of Don John, who, finding his villanies
were detected, fled from Messina to avoid the just anger of
his brother.
The heart of Claudio was sorely grieved when he found
he had falsely accused Hero, who, he thought, died upon
hearing 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 un-
known 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
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;
TT c

34 Tales from Shakspeare,
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 daugh-
ter, the lady Hero herself. We may be sure that this proved
a most agreeable surprise to Claudio, who thought her dead,
so that he 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 persua-
sion, 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
villany, was taken in his flight and brought back to Messina;
and abrave punishment it was to this gloomy and discon-
tented man, to see the joy and feastings which, by the dis-
appointment of his plots, took place at the palace in

A Midsummer Nigh's Dream. 35


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 un-
frequently 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 Hermia, whom he had commanded to marry
Demetrius, a young man of a noble Athenian family, refused
to obey him, because she loved another youhg Athenian,
named Lysander. Egeus demanded justice of Theseus, and
desired that this cruel law might be put in force against his
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 honourable 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

36 Tales from Shakspeare.
peril she was in, and that she must either give up him and
marry Demetrius, or lose her life in four days.
Lysander was in -great affliction at hearing these evil
tidings; but recollecting that he 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 favourite 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 hap-
pened, at this time, a sad disagreement : they never met by
moonlight in the shady walks of this pleasant wood but
they were quarrelling, 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 to 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 honour,
she met Oberon attended by his train of fairy courtiers.

A Midsummer Nirht's Dream. 37
"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 not I thy lord 1 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 favourite and privy
Puck (or, as he was sometimes called, Robin Goodfellow)
was a shrewd and knavish sprite, and 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 dairy-
maid would labour 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 neighbours 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 neighbours 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

38 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 over-
heard Demetrius reproaching Helena for following him, and
after many unkind words on his part, and gentle expostula-
tions 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 favourite, Take a part of this flower: there has
been a sweet Athenian lady here, who is in love with a dis-
dainful 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 he 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 enamelled 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,

A Midsummer Night's Dream. 39
and some wage war with the bats for their leather wings,
to make my small elves coats; and some of you keep watch
that the clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, 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 your 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 ser-
vices she had enjoined them. Oberon then softly drew near
his Titania, and dropped some of the love-juice on her eye-
lids, saying,
What thou seest, when thou dost wake,
Do it for thy true-love sake."
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

40 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 Hermia, and to run after another lady, and leave
Hermia asleep quite alone in a wood at midnight, was a sad
chance indeed.
Thus this fortune happened. Helena, as has been before
related, endeavoured 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 1" 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 he 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 I thought, Lysander,
you were a lord of more true gentleness." Saying these

A Midsummer Aight's Dream. 41
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 learnt by some questions he had asked of Puck, that he
had applied the love-charm 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 speak-
ing 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 had 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, pre-
cious, 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 school-day friendship ? How
often, Hermia, have we two, sitting on one cushion, both
singing one song, with our needles working the same flower,

42 Tales from Shakspeare.
both on the same sampler wrought; growing up together in
fashion of a double cherry, scarcely seeming parted 1 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." "Ay, 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 h"
"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 me 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 that 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."


44 Tales from Shakespeare.
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 towards the bower where the fairy
queen slept.
Ah! what angel is that I see I" 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
Pease-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 Pease-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 Pease-blossom
Scratch my head," said the clown. "Where is Cobweb' "
"Here sir," said Cobweb.
S"Good Mr. Cobweb," said the foolish clown, "kill me the
red humble-bee 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 hot; I should be sorry to have you over-
flown with a honey-bag. Where is Mustard-seed I"
"Here, sir," said Mustard-seed; "what is your will ?"

A Midsummer Night's Dream. 45
Nothing," said the clown, "good Mr. Mustard-seed, but
to help Mr. Pease-blossom to scratch: I must go to a barber's,
Mr. Mustard-seed, for methinks I am marvellous 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 pease," 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. 0 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 favours 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
When Oberon had teased her for some time, he again de-
manded the changeling-boy; which she, ashamed of being
discovered by her lord with her new favourite, 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 situa-
tion 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 each other, sleeping on a

46 Tales from Shakspeare
grass-plot; for Puck, to make amends for his former mis-
take, had contrived with the utmost diligence to bring them
all to the same spot, unknown to each other; and he had
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 had
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 had given up his pretensions
to Hermia, he should endeavour 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

A Midsummer Night'fs Dream. 47
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 un-
reasonable as to be offended with a pretty harmless Mid-
summer Night's Dream

rl I:
'I i

i i I "'
t 1.

~e ii

I I(1 .i

----I~-=-~=L-------_ --~-----~-~y

Measure for Measure. 49


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 neg-
lected, and complaints were every day made to the duke by
the parents of the young ladies in Vienna, of the continual
non-enforcement of this important law.
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 a while
from his dukedom and depute another to the full exercise
of his power, that the law against these dishonourable per-
sons might be put in effect, without giving offence 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
councillor, Escalus said, "If any man in Vienna be of
worth to undergo such ample grace and honour, it is lord
Angelo." And now the duke departed from Vienna under

50 Tales from Shakspeare.
pretence 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 persuaded a young lady to leave her parents;
and for this offence, by command of the new lord deputy,
Claudio was taken up and committed to prison, and by virtue
of the old law which had so long been 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 honourable 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 Isabella, who this day proposes to
enter the convent of Saint Glare; 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."
Isabella, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day
entered upon her noviciate 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 Isabella. "It is a
man's voice," replied the nun: Gentle Isabella, go to him,
and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you

Measure for Measure. 51
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 farther privileges ?" said Isabella.
"Are not these large enough ?" replied the nun. "Yes truly,"
said Isabella: "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." Isabella 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, lady, if such you be, as the roses in your cheeks proclaim
you are no less can you bring me to the sight of Isabella, a
novice of this place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother
Claudio?" "Why her unhappy brother?" said Isabella,
"let me ask : for I am that Isabella, 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
Isabella. Lucio then told her, Claudio was imprisoned for
enticing a young lady from her home. "Ah," said she, I
fear it is my cousin Juliet." Juliet and Isabella were not
related, but they called each other cousin in remembrance of
their school-days' friendship; and as Isabella knew that
Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been led by her
affection for him into this transgression. "She it is," replied
Lucio. Whythen, let mybrother marry Juliet," said Isabella.
Lucio replied, that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but
that the lord deputy had sentenced him to die for his offence;
"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 Isabella, "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 Isabella: "I will but stay to give the
prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo.

52 Tales from Shakspeare.
Commend me to my brother: soon at night I will send him
word of my success."
Isabella hastened to the palace, and threw herself on her
knees before Angelo, saying, I am a woful suitor to your
honour, if it will please your honour to hear me." "'Well,
what is your suit I" said Angelo. She then made her peti-
tion 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." "O just, but severe law !"
said Isabella: "I had a brother then-Heaven keep your
honour !" 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
Isabella on her knees implored for mercy. "He is sen-
tenced," said Angelo: "it is too late." "Too late !" said
Isabella: "Why, no; I that do speak a word, may call it
back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to great
ones belong, 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 Isabella 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 Isabella. 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 I 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 Isabella : "Oh, that is sud-
den: 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 offence, 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;

Measure for Measure. 53
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 Isabella had raised a guilty
passion in his heart, and he began to form thoughts of dis-
honourable love, such as Claudio's crime had been; and the
conflict in his mind made him turn away from Isabella : but
she called him back, saying, "Gentle my lord, turn back;
hafk 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. "Ay," said Isabella, 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 honour safe Heaven
save your honour !" 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

54 Tales from S/haksfeare.
to entice Isabella from the paths of innocence and honour,
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 Isabella came in the morning, Angelo desired she
might be admitted alone to his presence: and being there,
he said to her, if she would listen to his dishonourable pro-
posals, he would give her her brother's life : For," said he,
" I love you, Isabella." My brother," said Isabella, 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." Isabella, in amazement
at his words, that he should tempt her to the same fault for
which he passed sentence of death 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 her in jest. But he said, Believe me
on my honour, my words express my purpose." Isabella,
angered to the heart to hear him use the word honour to
express such dishonourable purposes, said, Ha! little
honour, 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, Isabella ?" said
Angelo; "my unsoiled name, the austereness of my life,
my word vouched against yours, will outweigh your accusa-
tion. 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 I Did I tell this, who
would believe me ?" said Isabella, as she went towards the
dreary prison where her brother was confined. When she

Measure for Measure. 55

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 herself was more to blame than Claudio.
As Isabella entered the room where Claudio was confined,
she said, "Peace be here, grace and good company !" "Who
is there 1" said the disguised duke : "come in; the wish
deserves a welcome." My business is a word or two with
Claudio," said Isabella. 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 1" said Claudio. Isabella
told him he must prepare for death on the morrow. "Is
there no remedy ?" said Olaudio. Yes, brother," replied
Isabella, there is; but such a one as, if you consented to it,
would strip your honour from you, and leave you naked."
"Let me know the point," said Claudio. O, 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 honour !
Do you dare to die ? The sense of death is most in appre-
hension, 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 Isabella; "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 his base proposals, would grant your life. 0, were
it but my life, I would lay it down for your deliverance as
frankly as a pin !" Thanks, dear Isabella," said Claudio.
"Be ready to die to-morrow," said Isabella. "Death is a
fearful thing," said Claudio. "And shamed life a hateful,"
replied his sister. But the thoughts of death 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

56 Tales from Shakspeare.
brother's life, nature dispenses with the deed so ar, that it
becomes a virtue." 0 faithless coward O dishonest
wretch !" said Isabella: "would you preserve your life by
your sister's shame ? 0 fie, fie, fie I thought, my brother,
you had in you such a mind of honour, 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 dis-
honour." "Nay, hear me, Isabella !" said Claudio. But
what he would have said in defence of his weakness, in
desiring to live by the dishonour 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 honour in her, has given him that gra-
cious denial which he is most 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 Isabella, commended her
virtuous resolution, saying, "The hand that made you fair,
has made you good." "0," said Isabella, "how much is the
good duke deceived in Angelo! if ever he return, and I can
speak to him, I will discover his government." Isabella
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 advis-
ings. 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." Isabella 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

Measure for Measure. 57
Mariana, the sister of Frederick, tne great soldier who was
drowned at sea. "I have heard of the lady," said Isabella,
"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 towards her was the most kind and natural, in the
wreck of her fortunes he lost the affections of her husband,
the well-seeming Angelo; who, pretending to discover some
dishonour in this honourable 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 impedi-
ment in the current, made it more unruly, and Mariana
loves her cruel husband with the full of continuance of her
first affection." The duke then more plainly unfolded his
plan. It was, that Isabella 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 Isabella.
"Nor, gentle daughter," said the feigned friar, "fear you
to do this thing; Angelo is her husband ; and to bring them
thus together is no sin." Isabella being pleased with this
project, departed to do as he directed her; and he went to
apprize 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 con-
sented to be directed by him in his undertaking.
When Isabella 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?" Isabella 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

58 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 i" said the duke. "No, none," said Isabella, "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 come 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 Isabella, who rejoiced that she had, as she supposed, by
this device preserved both her brother's life and her own
honour. But that her brother's life was safe the duke was
not well satisfied, and therefore at midnight he again re-
paired 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 be-
headed, 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.

Measure for Measure. 59
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; ard the duke also com-
manded 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 Isabella 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; there-
fore when Isabella 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, 0 unhappy Claudio, wretched
Isabella, 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 to fear if the cause should seem to go against
her for a while. Leaving Isabella 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, amidst 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 Isabella, in the
manner of a petitioner for redress, and said, Justice, most
royal duke! I am the sister of one Claudio, who was cruelly
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 shame to utter. Angelo would
not but by my yielding to his dishonourable love release
my brother; and after much debate within myself, my
sisterly remorse overcame my virtue, and I did yield to him.

60 Tales from Shakspeare.
But the next morning betimes, Angelo, forfeiting his
promise, sent a warrant for my poor brother's head !" The
duke affected to disbelive 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 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 Isabella
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 for ever be fixed here a
marble monument." Then did Isabella appeal for the truth
of what she had said to friar Lodowick, that being the name
the duke had assumed in his disguise. Isabella and Mariana
had both obeyed his instructions in what they said, the duke
intending that the innocence of Isabella 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 Isabella; 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." "Ay, 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 deter-
mined 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

Measure for Measure. 6I
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 1 It is he 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
Isabella 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 hinz 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 Isabella. He said to her, Come
hither, Isabella. Your friar is now your prince, but with my
habit I have not changed my heart. I am still devoted to
your service." "0 give me pardon," said Isabella, "that I,
your vassal, have employed and troubled your unknown
sovereignty." He answered that he had most need of for-
giveness 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 farther trial of her goodness.
Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his
bad deeds, and he said, "0 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." my dear lord," said Mariana, "I crave no
other, nor no better man:" and then on her knees, even as
Isabella had begged the life of Claudio, did this kind wife of
an ungrateful husband beg the life of Angelo; and she said,

62 Tales from Shakspeare
" Gentle my liege, 0 good my lord Sweet Isabella, 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 Isabella kneel
down to beg for mercy, her brother's ghost would break his
paved bed, and take her hence in horror." Still Mariana
said, "Isabella, sweet Isabella, do but kneel by me, hold up
your hand, say nothing I will speak all. They say, best
men are moulded out of faults, and for the most part become
much the better for being a little bad. So may my husband.
Oh, Isabella, will you not lend a knee The duke then said,
" He dies for Claudio." But much pleased was the good
duke, when his own Isabella, from whom he expected all
gracious and honourable 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
prison-house, where he lay doubtful of his destiny, presented
to her this lamented brother living; and he said to Isabella,
" Give me your hand, Isabella; 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 I have confessed her, and know her virtue."
Angelo remembered, when dressed in a little brief author-
ity, how hard his heart had been, and felt how sweet is
The duke commanded Olaudio to marry Juliet, and offered
himself again to the acceptance of Isabella, whose virtuous
and noble conduct had won her prince's heart. Isabella, 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

Measure for Measure. 63

joy accept the honour he offered her; and when she became
duchess of Vienna, the excellent example of the virtuous
Isabella 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 Isabella the happiest of husbands and of

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____ I. i I


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The Taming of the Shrew. 65


KATHERINE, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Bap-
tista, 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
Katherine 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 hands, 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 Katherine'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 labour as Petruchio, whose spirit
was as high as Katherine's, and he was a witty and most
happy-tempered humourist, and withal so wise, and of such
a true judgmentthat 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 Katherine
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 Katherine.
A courting then Petruchio went to Katherine the Shrew,

66 Tales from Shakspeare.
and hrst of all he applied to Baptista, her father, for leave
to woo his gentle daughter Katherine, as Petruchio called
her, saying archly, that having heard of her bashful modesty
and mild behaviour, he had come from Verona to solicit her
love. Her father, though he wished her married, was forced
to confess Katherine would ill answer this character, it being
soon apparent of what manner of gentleness she was com-
posed, for her music-master rushed into the room to com-
plain that the gentle Katherine, 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, signior
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 Katherine 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 apprize 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 he 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 nightin-
gale; 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 Katherine entered, and
Petruchio first addressed her with "Good morrow, Kate,
for that is your name, I hear." Katherine, not liking this
plain salutation, said disdainfully, They call me Katherine
who do speak to me." "You lie," replied the lover; "for
you are called plain Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes

The Taming of the Shrew. 67
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 (in-
tending to make as quick a wooing as possible), "Sweet
Katherine, 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 pro-
mised to be married the next Sunday. This Katherine
denied, saying she would rather see him hanged on Sunday,
and reproached her father for wishing to wed her to such a
mad-cap 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 fine apparel against our wedding-day. Provide the
feast, father, and bid the wedding guests. I will be sure to
bring rings, fine array, and rich clothes, that my Katherine
may be fine; and kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on
On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled,
but they waited long before Petruchio came, and Katherine
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 he had promised Katherine,
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, Katherine was to be married to him, and not to his
clothes; and finding it was in vain to argue with him, to the

68 Tales from Shakspeare.
church they went, he still behaving in the same mad way,
for when the priest asked Petruchio if Katherine 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 Katherine 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
Katherine, declared his intention of carrying his wife home
instantly; and no remonstrance of his father-in-law, or angry
words of the enraged Katherine, could make him change his
purpose: he claimed a husband's right to dispose of his wife
as he pleased, and away he hurried Katherine; he seeming
so daring and resolute that no one dared attempt to stop
Petruchio mounted his wife upon a miserable horse, lean
and lank, which he had picked out for the purpose, and him-
self and his servant no better mounted; they journeyed on
through rough and miry ways, and ever when this horse of
Katherine'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 Aatherine
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

The Taming of the Shirew. 69
to find fault with every dish, threw the meat about the floor,
and ordered the servants to remove it, and all this he did,
as he said, in love for his Katherine, that she might not
eat meat that was not well dressed. And when Katherine,
weary and supperless, retired to rest, he found the same fault
with the bed, throwing the pillows and bed-clothes 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 Petrnchio pursued the same course, still
speaking kind words to Katherine, 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 Katherine, the haughty Katherine, 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 her
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 Katherine, 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
Katherine brought out a reluctant I thank you, sir." And

70 Tales from Shlaksfeare.
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 he really intended
to give her these gay things, he called in a tailor and a haber-
dasher, 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 1 The haberdasher presented a cap, saying,
" Here is the cap your worship bespoke ;" on which Petruchio
began to storm afresh, saying, the cap was moulded in a por-
ringer, and that it was no bigger than a cockle or walnut
shell, desiring the haberdasher to take it away and make a
bigger. Katherine 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 Katherine 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 Katherine, "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. O 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 Katherine said, she never saw a better fashioned
gown. This was enough for Petruehio, and privately desiring

The Taming of the Shrew. 71
these people might be paid for their goods, had 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 Katherine, 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
Katherine 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 supper-time before we
get there." But Petruchio meant that she should be so com-
pletely 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 he
set forward; For," said he, "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 Katherine 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 con-
tradiction, 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 he, "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 Katherine,
no longer Katherine 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 Katherine. "You lie, it is the blessed sun," said

72 Tales from Shaksfeare.
Petruchio. Then it is the blessed sun," replied Katherine;
"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
Katherine." Now then he suffered her to proceed on her
journey: but further to try if this yielding humour 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 Katherine 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 com-
pletely vanquished Katherine quickly adopted her husband's
opinion, and made her speech in like sort to the old gentle-
man, saying to him, Young budding virgin, you are fair, and
fresh, and sweet : whither are you going, and where is your
dwelling? Happy are 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 Katherine 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 travelling. 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 Katherine off his hands.

The Taming of the Shrew. 73
When they entered, Baptista welcomed them oo The
wedding feast, and there was present also another newly
married pair.
Lucentio, Bianca's husband, and Hortensio, tne 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 Katherine 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 obedi-
ent 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 quite confident that their
gentle wives would prove more obedient than the headstrong
Katherine; and they proposed a wager of twenty crowns,
but Petruchio merrily said, he would lay as much as that
upon his hawk or hounds, 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 can-
not 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
Katherine did not send him a worse answer. And now it
was Hortensio's turn to send for his wife; and he 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!

74 Tales from Shakspeare.
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, say-
ing, "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 halidom, here comes
Katherine!" and she entered, saying meekly to Petruchio,
"What is your will, sir, that you send for mel" Where is
your sister and Hortensio's wife?" said he. Katherine
replied, They sit conferring by the parlour fire." "Go fetch
them hither," said Petruchio. Away went Katherine 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." Katherine'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 obedi-
ence." Katherine now entering with the two ladies, he
continued, See where she comes, and brings your froward
wives as prisoners to her womanly persuasion. Katherine,
that cap of yours does not become you; off with that
bauble, and throw it under foot." Katherine 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." "Katherine," said Petruchio, "I charge
you- tell these headstrong women what duty they owe their

The Taming of the Shkew. 75
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 Katherine
once more became famous in Padua, not as heretofore, as
Katherine the Shrew, but as Katherine the most obedient
and duteous wife in Padua.

76 Tales from Shakspear,


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 how 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. "Ay, 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 lately,
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

Twelfth Night. 77
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 he could intro-
duce 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 behaviour in the captain, and
that he showed a friendly concern for her welfare, entrusted
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
colour 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 afterwards 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 favoured at-
tendant. To Cesario Orsino confided the whole history of
his love for the lady Olivia. To Cesario he told the long and

78 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 com-
panion, 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
confidants 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 should behold without the deepest admir-
ation, and she ventured gently to hint to Orsino, that it was
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 hot love, and must not she 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,"

Twelfth Night. 79
replied Viola : "she never told her love, but let concealment,
like a worm in the bud, prey 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 ques-
tion 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 hand-
maid 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, "0 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 the 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 q?' said Viola. "0 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 under-
take 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 there-
fore 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,



Twelfth Night. 8I
and will speak with you, whether you will or no." Olivia,
curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be,
desired he might be admitted; and throwing her veil over
her face, she said she would once more hear Orsino's em-
bassy, 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's 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.
SWhen 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 will lead these graces to the grave, and leave
the world no copy." 0, 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 grey 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

82 Tales from Shakspeare.
are: you are too proud, but you are fair. My lord and
master loves you. 0 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. 0 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, say-
ing, 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
pretence that he. had left it with her as a present from
Orsino. She hoped, by thus artfully making Cesario a

Twelfth Night. 83
present of the ring, she should give him some intimation of
her design; and truly it did make Viola suspect; for know-
ing 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
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 intervals,
he commanded a songwhich he loved to be sung; and he said,
"My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, me-
thought 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."

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, 0 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 strown:
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 unre-
quited love, and she bore testimony in her countenance of
feeling what the song expressed. Her sad looks were

84 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 2" "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 desire 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, 0 what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the con-
tempt and anger of his lip! Cesario, by the roses of the
spring, by maidhood honour, 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 solicitations 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 valour. A gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia,
who had learned how that lady had favoured the duke's
messenger, challenged him to fight a duel. What should
poor Viola do, who, though she carried a manlike outside,
had a true woman's heart, and feared to look on her own
When she saw her formidable rival advancing towards her

Twelfth Night. 85
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 offence, 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 offence 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 kind-
ness 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 hearkening 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 explan-
ation, 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

86 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 offence 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 Viola being dressed the same, and
in face so exactly resembling her brother, Antonio drew
his sword (as he thought) in defence of the youth he had
saved, and when Sebastian (as he supposed) disowned him,
and denied him his own purse, no wonder he accused him
of ingratitude.
Viola, when Antonio was gone, fearing a second invita-
tion to fight, slunk home as fast as she could. She had not
long gone, when her adversary thought he saw her return;
but it was her brother Sebastian who happened to arrive at
this place, and he said, "Now, sir, have I met with you
again? There's for you;" and struck him a blow. Sebastian
was no coward; he returned the blow with interest, and
drew his sword.
A lady now put a stop to this duel, for Olivia came out of
the house, and she too mistaking Sebastian for Cesario, invited
him to come into her house, expressing much sorrow at the
rude attack he had met with. Though Sebastian was as much
surprised at the courtesy of this lady as at the rudeness of
his unknown foe, yet he went very willingly into the house,
and Olivia was delighted to find Cesario (as she thought
him) become more sensible of her attentions; for though
their features were exactly the same, there was none of the

Twelfth Night. 87
contempt and anger to be seen in his face, which she had
complained of when she told her love to Cesario.
Sebastian did not at all object to the fondness the lady
lavished on him. He seemed to take it in very good part,
yet he wondered how it had come to pass, and he was rather
inclined to think Olivia was not in her right senses; but
perceiving that she was mistress of a fine house, and that
she ordered her affairs and seemed to govern her family
discreetly, and that in all but her sudden love for him she
appeared in the full possession of her reason, he well
approved of the courtship; and Olivia finding Cesario in
this good humour, and fearing he might change his mind,
proposed that, as she had a priest in the house, they should
be instantly married. Sebastian assented to this proposal;
and when the marriage ceremony was over, he left his lady
for a short time, intending to go and tell his friend Antonio
the good fortune that he had met with. In the mean time
Orsino came to visit Olivia, and at the moment he arrived
before Olivia's house, the officers of justice brought their
prisoner, Antonio, before the duke. Viola was with
Orsino, her master; and when Antonio saw Viola, whom
he still imagined to be Sebastian, he told the duke in what
manner he had rescued this youth from the perils of the
sea; and after fully relating all the kindness he had really
shown to Sebastian, he ended his complaint with saying,
that for three months, both day and night, this ungrateful
youth had been with him. But now the lady Olivia coming
forth from her house, the duke could no longer attend to
Antonio's story; and he said, "Here comes the countess:
now Heaven walks on earth! but for thee, fellow, thy words
are madness. Three months has this youth attended on
me:" and then he ordered Antonio to be taken aside.
But Orsino's heavenly countess soon gave the duke cause to
accuse Cesario as much of ingratitude as Antonio had
done, for all the words he could hear Olivia speak were
words of kindness to Cesario; and when he found his
page had obtained this high place in Olivia's favour he
threatened him with all the terrors of his just revenge;
and as he was going to depart, he called Viola to follow

88 Tales from Shaksfeare.
him, saying, "Come, boy, with me. My thoughts are
ripe for mischief." Though it seemed in his jealous rage
he was going to doom Viola to instant death, yet her love
made her no longer a coward, and she said she would most
joyfully suffer death to give her master ease. But Olivia
would not so lose her husband, and she cried, Where goes
my Cesario ?" Viola replied, "After him I love more than
my life." Olivia, however, prevented their departure by
loudly proclaiming that Cesario was her husband, and sent
for the priest, who declared that not two hours had passed
since he had married the lady Olivia to this young man.
Iri vain Viola protested she was not married to Olivia; the
evidence of that lady and the 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 sup-
posed 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 twin 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 for ever at an end by this
marriage of Olivia, and with his hopes, all his fruitless love
seems to vanish away, and all his thoughts were fixed on the
event of his favourite, young Cesario, being changed into a

Twelfth Night. 89
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 Gesario 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.

90 Tales from Shakspeare.


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 pryinto 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
Tharsus, and hearing that the city of Tharsus was at that time
suffering under a severe famine, he took with him 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 this unhoped-for succour, Cleon,
the governor of Tharsus, 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 Tharsus, 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, amidst 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

Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 91

him clothes and provisions. The fishermen told Pericles the
name of their country was Pentapolis, and that their king
was Symonides, commonly called the good Symonides, because
of his peaceable reign and good government. From them he
also learned that king Symonides 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 armour, which disabled him from making one among
these valiant knights, another fisherman brought in a complete
suit of armour that he had taken out of the sea with his
fishing net, which proved to be the very armour he had lost.
When Pericles beheld his own armour, he said, "Thanks,
Fortune; after all my crosses you give me somewhat to repair
myself. This armour was bequeathed to me by my dead
father, for whose dear sake I have so loved it, that whitherso-
ever 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 armour,
repaired to the royal court of Symonides, 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 honour of Thaisa's love. When brave war-
riors 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
valour 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 favour 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 Symonides so well approved of the valour and


Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 93
noble qualities of Pericles, who was indeed a most accom-
plished 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 pri-
vate gentleman of Tyre), yet did not Symonides disdain to
accept of the valiant unknown for a son-in-law, when he
perceived his daughter's affections were firmly fixed upon
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 seht to let
Pericles know their intentions, that he might return home
and resume his lawful right. It was a matter of great sur-
prise and joy to Symonides, 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 sup-
posed 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 towards 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, "0 you gods, why do you make us

94 Tales from Shakspeare.
love your goodly gifts, and then snatch those gifts away 1"
"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 new-born 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 sea-farer, 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 upon his Thaisa, he said, "A
terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear; no light, no fire,
the unfriendly elements forgot thee utterly, nor have I time
to bring thee hallowed to thy grave, but must cast thee
scarcely confined 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

Penicles, Prince of Tyre. 95
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 satilfshroud) 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
Tharsus. "For," said Pericles, "the babe cannot hold out
till we come to Tyre. At Tharsus I will leave it at careful
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 sea-side, 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 further, 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 pity-
ing 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, "I pray you, gentlemen,
give her air; this queen will live; she has not been entranced

96 Tales from Shakspeare.
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 re-
covered 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. More-
over, 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 Tharsus, 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, O
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 lies, yet the end must be as it is. My gentle babe,
Marina here, I must charge your charity with her. I leave

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