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And now for KickAss Shakespeare's presentation of
Much adoe about Nothing
Act I
Act I. Scene I. Before Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, Hero, and Beatrice, with a Messenger
I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon
comes this night to Messina.
Much adoe about Nothing
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.
comes this night to Messina
He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off
when I left him.
three Leagues off when I left him
How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
action?
But few of any sort, and none of name.
A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings
home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath
bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.
brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter
hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called
Claudio
Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by
Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the
promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb,
the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better
bettered expectation than you must expect of me to
tell you how.
by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the
promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the
feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation,
then you must expect of me to tell you how
He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much
glad of it.
much glad of it
I have already delivered him letters, and there
appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could
20not show itself modest enough without a badge of
bitterness.
appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could
not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse
Did he break out into tears?
In great measure.
A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces
truer than those that are so washed. How much
better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!
truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better
is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping?
I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the
wars or no?
the warres, or no?
I know none of that name, lady: there was none such
30in the army of any sort.
none such in the armie of any sort
What is he that you ask for, niece?
My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.
He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged
Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading
the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged
him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he
killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath
he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing.
Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the
Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at
the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and
eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for
indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing
Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much;
but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not
He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it:
he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an
excellent stomach.
excellent stomacke
And a good soldier too, lady.
And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord?
to a Lord?
A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all
honourable virtues.
all honourable vertues
It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man:
but for the stuffing,--well, we are all mortal.
but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall
You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a
kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her:
they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit
between them.
a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her:
they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between
them
Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last
conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and
now is the whole man governed with one: so that if
he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him
60bear it for a difference between himself and his
horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left,
to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his
companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is
the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue
wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it
for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it
is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable
creature. Who is his companion now? He hath
euery month a new sworne brother
Is't possible?
Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as
the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the
next block.
the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block
I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
bookes
No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray
70you, who is his companion? Is there no young
squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?
I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young
squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the
diuell?
He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
Claudio
O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he
is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker
runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if
he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a
thousand pound ere a' be cured.
he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker
runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee
haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand
pound ere he be cur'd
I will hold friends with you, lady.
Do, good friend.
You will never run mad, niece.
No, not till a hot January.
Don Pedro is approached.
Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Claudio, Benedick, and Balthasar
Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your
trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid
cost, and you encounter it.
Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, and Iohn the bastard.
your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost,
and you encounter it
Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of
your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides
and happiness takes his leave.
of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides,
and happinesse takes his leaue
You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this
is your daughter.
thinke this is your daughter
Her mother hath many times told me so.
Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?
Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
childe
You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this
what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers
herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an
honourable father.
this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers
her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable
father
If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not
100have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as
like him as she is.
haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him
as she is
I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior
Benedick: nobody marks you.
Benedicke, no body markes you
What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
liuing?
Is it possible disdain should die while she hath
such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?
Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
in her presence.
hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke?
Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in
her presence
Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I
110am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I
would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard
heart; for, truly, I love none.
I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and
I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard
heart, for truely I loue none
A dear happiness to women: they would else have
been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God
and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I
had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man
swear he loves me.
haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke
God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I
had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man
sweare he loues me
God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some
gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate
120scratched face.
so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate
scratcht face
Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such
a face as yours were.
such a face as yours were
Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
your
I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and
so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's
name; I have done.
and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods
name, I haue done
You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.
you of old
That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio
130and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath
invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at
the least a month; and he heartily prays some
occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no
hypocrite, but prays from his heart.
and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath
inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least
a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine
vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but
praies from his heart
If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.
To Don John
Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to
the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.
let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled
to the Prince your brother: I owe you all
duetie
I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank
you.
thanke you
Please it your grace lead on?
Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.
Exeunt all except Benedick and Claudio
Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.
Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?
Leonato?
I noted her not; but I looked on her.
Is she not a modest young lady?
Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for
my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak
after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue
me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant
to their sexe?
No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.
Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high
150praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little
for a great praise: only this commendation I can
afford her, that were she other than she is, she
were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I
do not like her.
praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a
great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her,
that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome,
and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her
Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me
truly how thou likest her.
truely how thou lik'st her
Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?
her?
Can the world buy such a jewel?
Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this
160with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack,
to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a
rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take
you, to go in the song?
with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to
tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare
Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man take you to
goe in the song?
In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I
looked on.
I lookt on
I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such
matter: there's her cousin, an she were not
possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty
as the first of May doth the last of December. But I
170hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?
such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest
with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first
of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue
no intent to turne husband, haue you?
I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the
contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife
Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world
one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?
Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?
Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck
into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away
Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you.
man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I neuer
see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith,
and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare
the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro
is returned to seeke you.
Enter Don Pedro
What secret hath held you here, that you followed
180not to Leonato's?
Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.
not to Leonatoes?
I would your grace would constrain me to tell.
tell
I charge thee on thy allegiance.
You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb
man; I would have you think so; but, on my
allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is
in love. With who? now that is your grace's part.
Mark how short his answer is;--With Hero, Leonato's
short daughter.
dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance,
marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in
loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke
how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short
daughter
If this were so, so were it uttered.
Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor
'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be
so.'
not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so
If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it
should be otherwise.
should be otherwise
Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.
well worthie
You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.
By my troth, I speak my thought.
And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
speake mine
That I love her, I feel.
That she is worthy, I know.
That I neither feel how she should be loved nor
know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that
fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake.
nor know how shee should be worthie, is the
opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at
the stake
Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite
of beauty.
of Beautie
And never could maintain his part but in the force
of his will.
force of his will
That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she
210brought me up, I likewise give her most humble
thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,
all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do
them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the
right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which
I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.
she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble
thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all
women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the
wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to
trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the
finer) I will liue a Batchellor
I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord,
not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood
220with love than I will get again with drinking, pick
out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me
up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of
blind Cupid.
my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more
blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking,
picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penne, and
hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe
of blinde Cupid
Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou
wilt prove a notable argument.
thou wilt proue a notable argument
If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot
at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on
the shoulder, and called Adam.
at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder,
and cal'd Adam
Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull
230doth bear the yoke.'
Bull doth beare the yoake
The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible
Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set
them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted,
and in such great letters as they write 'Here is
good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign
'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'
Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set
them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and
in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse
to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may
see Benedicke the married man
If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
horne mad
Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly
I look for an earthquake too, then.
Well, you temporize with the hours. In the
meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to
Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will
not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made
great preparation.
the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes,
commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile
him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation
I have almost matter enough in me for such an
embassage; and so I commit you--
Embassage, and so I commit you
To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,--
had it
The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick.
Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and
the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
you flout old ends any further, examine your
conscience: and so I leave you.
Exit
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the
guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout
old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I
leaue you.
Exit.
My liege, your highness now may do me good.
good
My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne
Any hard Lesson that may do thee good
Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
No child but Hero; she's his only heir.
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
Dost thou affect her Claudio?
O, my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
That liked, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love:
But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
270All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars.
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand,
Than to driue liking to the name of loue:
But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts
Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes,
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres
Thou wilt be like a lover presently
And tire the hearer with a book of words.
If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it,
And I will break with her and with her father,
And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
And tire the hearer with a booke of words:
If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I will breake with her: wast not to this end,
That thou beganst to twist so fine a story?
How sweetly you do minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complexion!
280But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salved it with a longer treatise.
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
The fairest grant is the necessity.
Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest,
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know we shall have revelling toight:
I will assume thy part in some disguise
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart
290And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then after to her father will I break;
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
In practise let us put it presently.
Exeunt
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:
Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest,
And I will fit thee with the remedie,
I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine,
In practise let vs put it presently.
Exeunt.
Act I. Scene II. A room in Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato and Antonio, meeting
How now, brother! Where is my cousin, your son?
hath he provided this music?
Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.
hath he prouided this musicke?
He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell
you strange news that you yet dreamt not of.
you newes that you yet dreamt not of
Are they good?
As the event stamps them: but they have a good
cover; they show well outward. The prince and Count
Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in mine
orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine:
10the prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my
niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it
this night in a dance: and if he found her
accordant, he meant to take the present time by the
top and instantly break with you of it.
couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count
Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard,
were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered
to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter,
and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance,
and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the
present time by the top, and instantly breake with you
of it
Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and
question him yourself.
question him your selfe
No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear
itself: but I will acquaint my daughter withal,
20that she may be the better prepared for an answer,
if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell her of it.
Enter Attendants
Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you
mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will use your
skill. Good cousin, have a care this busy time.
Exeunt
it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall,
that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture
this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins,
you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie
friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill,
good cosin haue a care this busie time.
Exeunt.
Act I. Scene III. The same.
Enter Don John and Conrade
What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out
of measure sad?
Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.
thus out of measure sad?
There is no measure in the occasion that breeds;
therefore the sadness is without limit.
therefore the sadnesse is without limit
You should hear reason.
And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it?
it?
If not a present remedy, at least a patient
sufferance.
I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayest thou art,
10born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral
medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide
what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile
at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait
for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and
tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and
claw no man in his humour.
borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine,
to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I
am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no
mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no
mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no
mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man
in his humor
Yea, but you must not make the full show of this
till you may do it without controlment. You have of
late stood out against your brother, and he hath
20ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is
impossible you should take true root but by the
fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful
that you frame the season for your own harvest.
till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of
late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane
you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you
should take root, but by the faire weather that you make
your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your
owne haruest
I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in
his grace, and it better fits my blood to be
disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob
love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to
be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied
but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with
30a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I
have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my
mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do
my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and
seek not to alter me.
in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of
all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this
(though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man)
it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I
am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog,
therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had
my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do
my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and
seeke not to alter me
Can you make no use of your discontent?
I make all use of it, for I use it only.
Who comes here?
Enter Borachio
What news, Borachio?
Who comes here? what newes Borachio?
I came yonder from a great supper: the prince your
40brother is royally entertained by Leonato: and I
can give you intelligence of an intended marriage.
Enter Borachio.
your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can
giue you intelligence of an intended marriage
Will it serve for any model to build mischief on?
What is he for a fool that betroths himself to
unquietness?
on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to
vnquietnesse?
Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
Even he.
A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks
he?
lookes he?
Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
to this:
Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a
musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand
in hand in sad conference: I whipt me behind the
arras; and there heard it agreed upon that the
prince should woo Hero for himself, and having
obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio,
hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras,
and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should
wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue
her to Count Claudio
Come, come, let us thither: this may prove food to
my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the
60glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I
bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie
of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse
my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist
mee?
To the death, my lord.
Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the
greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of
my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done?
greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my
minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done?
We'll wait upon your lordship.
Exeunt
Exeunt.
Act II
Act II. Scene I. A hall in Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, and others
Was not Count John here at supper?
Actus Secundus.
Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his neece, and a kinsman.
I saw him not.
How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see
him but I am heart-burned an hour after.
can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an howre after
He is of a very melancholy disposition.
He were an excellent man that were made just in the
midway between him and Benedick: the one is too
like an image and says nothing, and the other too
like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling.
iust in the mid-way betweene him and Benedicke, the one
is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too
like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling
Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's
mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior
Benedick's face,--
Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Signior
Benedicks face
With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money
enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman
in the world, if a' could get her good-will.
money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any
woman in the world, if he could get her good will
By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a
husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue
In faith, she's too curst.
Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's
20sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst
cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none.
sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow
short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none
So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.
hornes
Just, if he send me no husband; for the which
blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and
evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a
beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.
blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and
euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a
beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen
You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
beard
What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel
and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a
30beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no
beard is less than a man: and he that is more than
a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a
man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take
sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward, and lead his
apes into hell.
my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he
that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath
no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a
youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am
not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in earnest
of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell
Well, then, go you into hell?
No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet
me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and
say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to
40heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver
I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the
heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and
there live we as merry as the day is long.
meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head,
and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen,
heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes,
and away to S[aint]. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee
where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as
the day is long
[To Hero] Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled
by your father.
father
Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy
and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all
that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else
make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please
50me.'
and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let
him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie,
and say, father, as it please me
Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
with a husband
Not till God make men of some other metal than
earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be
overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make
an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl?
No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren;
and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.
then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouermastred
with a peece of valiant dust: to make account of
her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none:
Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne
to match in my kinred
Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince
do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.
Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere
The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be
not wooed in good time: if the prince be too
important, tell him there is measure in every thing
and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero:
wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig,
a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot
and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as
fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a
measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes
repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the
70cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important,
tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance
out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, &
repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace:
the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge
(and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest,
(as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes
repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace
faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue
Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.
by daylight
The revellers are entering, brother: make good room.
All put on their masks
roome.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, Don John, Borachio, Margaret, Ursula And Others, wearing masks
Lady, will you walk about with your friend?
Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or dumbe Iohn, Maskers with a drum.
So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing,
I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away.
nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I
walke away
With me in your company?
I may say so, when I please.
And when please you to say so?
When I like your favour; for God defend the lute
should be like the case!
Lute should be like the case
My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.
is Loue
Why, then, your visor should be thatched.
Speak low, if you speak love.
Drawing her aside
Well, I would you did like me.
So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many
ill-qualities.
manie ill qualities
Which is one?
I say my prayers aloud.
I love you the better: the hearers may cry, Amen.
God match me with a good dancer!
Amen.
And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is
done! Answer, clerk.
daunce is done: answer Clarke
No more words: the clerk is answered.
I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio.
At a word, I am not.
I know you by the waggling of your head.
To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were
the very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: you
are he, you are he.
you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down,
you are he, you are he
At a word, I am not.
Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your
excellent wit? can virtue hide itself? Go to,
mum, you are he: graces will appear, and there's an
end.
you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe
to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's
an end
Will you not tell me who told you so?
No, you shall pardon me.
Nor will you not tell me who you are?
Not now.
That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit
out of the 'Hundred Merry Tales:'--well this was
Signior Benedick that said so.
wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior
Benedicke that said so
What's he?
I am sure you know him well enough.
Not I, believe me.
Did he never make you laugh?
I pray you, what is he?
Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool;
only his gift is in devising impossible slanders:
none but libertines delight in him; and the
commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany;
for he both pleases men and angers them, and then
they laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in
the fleet: I would he had boarded me.
onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none
but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is
not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth
men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and
beat him: I am sure he is in the Fleet, I would he had
boorded me
When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say.
you say
Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me;
which, peradventure not marked or not laughed at,
130strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a
partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no
supper that night.
Music
We must follow the leaders.
on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd
at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Partridge
wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that
night. We must follow the Leaders
In every good thing.
Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at
the next turning.
Dance. Then exeunt all except Don John, Borachio, and Claudio
at the next turning.
Exeunt.
Musicke for the dance.
Sure my brother is amorous on Hero and hath
withdrawn her father to break with him about it.
The ladies follow her and but one visor remains.
withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the
Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines
And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing.
Are not you Signior Benedick?
You know me well; I am he.
Signior, you are very near my brother in his love:
he is enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him
from her: she is no equal for his birth: you may
do the part of an honest man in it.
loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him
from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the
part of an honest man in it
How know you he loves her?
I heard him swear his affection.
So did I too; and he swore he would marry her toight.
to night
Come, let us to the banquet.
Exeunt Don John and Borachio
Ex. manet Clau.
Thus answer I in the name of Benedick,
But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself.
Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
160This is an accident of hourly proof,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!
But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio:
'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe:
Friendship is constant in all other things,
Saue in the Office and affaires of loue:
Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues.
Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe,
And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch,
Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood:
This is an accident of hourely proofe,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero.
Enter Benedick
Count Claudio?
Enter Benedicke.
Yea, the same.
Come, will you go with me?
Whither?
Even to the next willow, about your own business,
county. What fashion will you wear the garland of?
about your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under
your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear
170it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero.
Count. What fashion will you weare the Garland
off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or
vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must
weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero
I wish him joy of her.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they
sell bullocks. But did you think the prince would
have served you thus?
they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold
haue serued you thus?
I pray you, leave me.
Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the
boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post.
boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post
If it will not be, I'll leave you.
Exit
Exit.
Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges.
180But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not
know me! The prince's fool! Ha? It may be I go
under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so I
am apt to do myself wrong; I am not so reputed: it
is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice
that puts the world into her person and so gives me
out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.
sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, &
not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe
vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am
apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the
base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's
the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile
be reuenged as I may.
Enter Don Pedro
Now, signior, where's the count? did you see him?
Enter the Prince.
see him?
Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame.
I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a
190warren: I told him, and I think I told him true,
that your grace had got the good will of this young
lady; and I offered him my company to a willow-tree,
either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or
to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped.
Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a
Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your
grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered
him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a
garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as being
worthy to be whipt
To be whipped! What's his fault?
The flat transgression of a schoolboy, who, being
overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his
companion, and he steals it.
being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his
companion, and he steales it
Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The
200transgression is in the stealer.
transgression is in the stealer
Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made,
and the garland too; for the garland he might have
worn himself, and the rod he might have bestowed on
you, who, as I take it, have stolen his birds' nest.
made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue
worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on
you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest
I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to
the owner.
to the owner
If their singing answer your saying, by my faith,
you say honestly.
you say honestly
The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the
210gentleman that danced with her told her she is much
wronged by you.
Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much
wrong'd by you
O, she misused me past the endurance of a block!
an oak but with one green leaf on it would have
answered her; my very visor began to assume life and
scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been
myself, that I was the prince's jester, that I was
duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest
with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood
like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at
220me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs:
if her breath were as terrible as her terminations,
there were no living near her; she would infect to
the north star. I would not marry her, though she
were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before
he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have
turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make
the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find
her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God
some scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while
230she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a
sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they
would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror
and perturbation follows her.
an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue answered
her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold
with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my
selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller
then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such impossible
conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a
marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes
poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were
as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere
her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not
marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam
had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made
Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to
make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde
her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God
some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she
is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary,
and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe
thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation
followes her.
Look, here she comes.
Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.
Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Hero, and Leonato
Will your grace command me any service to the
world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now
to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on;
I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the
furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of
240Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great
Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies,
rather than hold three words' conference with this
harpy. You have no employment for me?
the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now
to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I
will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch
of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch
you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any embassage
to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words
conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment
for me?
None, but to desire your good company.
O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot
endure my Lady Tongue.
Exit
this Lady tongue.
Exit.
Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of
Signior Benedick.
Signior Benedicke
Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave
250him use for it, a double heart for his single one:
marry, once before he won it of me with false dice,
therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.
gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry
once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore
your Grace may well say I haue lost it
You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.
him downe
So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I
should prove the mother of fools. I have brought
Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.
I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought
Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke
Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad?
Not sad, my lord.
How then? sick?
Neither, my lord.
The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor
well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and
something of that jealous complexion.
nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and something
of a iealous complexion
I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true;
though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is
false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and
fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father,
and his good will obtained: name the day of
marriage, and God give thee joy!
though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false:
heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero
is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will
obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue
thee ioy
Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my
fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and an
grace say Amen to it.
my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace
say, Amen to it
Speak, count, 'tis your cue.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were
but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as
you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for
you and dote upon the exchange.
but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you
are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and
doat vpon the exchange
Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth
with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.
with a kisse, and let not him speake neither
In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on
the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his
ear that he is in her heart.
on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare
that he is in my heart
And so she doth, cousin.
Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the
world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a
corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!
to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a corner
and cry, heigh ho for a husband
Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.
I would rather have one of your father's getting.
290Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your
father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.
hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father
got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them
Will you have me, lady?
No, my lord, unless I might have another for
working-days: your grace is too costly to wear
every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I
was born to speak all mirth and no matter.
working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie
day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne
to speake all mirth, and no matter
Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in
a merry hour.
best becomes you, for out of question, you were born
in a merry howre
No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there
was a star danced, and under that was I born.
Cousins, God give you joy!
there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: cosins
God giue you ioy
Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
you of?
I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon.
Exit
Exit Beatrice.
By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.
There's little of the melancholy element in her, my
lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and
not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say,
she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked
310herself with laughing.
my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not
euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath
often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with
laughing
She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.
O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit.
out of suite
She were an excellent wife for Benedict.
O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married,
they would talk themselves mad.
married, they would talke themselues madde
County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?
Church?
To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love
have all his rites.
till Loue haue all his rites
Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just
320seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all
things answer my mind.
hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue
all things answer minde
Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing:
but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go
dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of
Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signior
Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of
affection the one with the other. I would fain have
it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if
you three will but minister such assistance as I
330shall give you direction.
but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe
dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules
labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the
Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th' one with
th' other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not
but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance
as I shall giue you direction
My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten
nights' watchings.
ten nights watchings
And I, my lord.
And you too, gentle Hero?
I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my
cousin to a good husband.
my cosin to a good husband
And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that
I know. Thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble
strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I
340will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she
shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your
two helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in
despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he
shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this,
Cupid is no longer an archer: hi s glory shall be
ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me,
and I will tell you my drift.
Exeunt
that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble
straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will
teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall
in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will
so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke
wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with
Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Archer,
his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely louegods,
goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift.
Exit.
Act II. Scene II. The same.
Enter Don John and Borachio
It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the
daughter of Leonato.
Enter Iohn and Borachio.
of Leonato
Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.
Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be
medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure to him,
and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges
evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?
medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and
whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly
with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage?
Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no
dishonesty shall appear in me.
dishonesty shall appeare in me
Show me briefly how.
I think I told your lordship a year since, how much
I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting
gentlewoman to Hero.
much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman
to Hero
I remember.
I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night,
appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber window.
appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window
What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?
The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to
the prince your brother; spare not to tell him that
20he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned
Claudio--whose estimation do you mightily hold
up--to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.
you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that
hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned
Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a
contaminated stale, such a one as Hero
What proof shall I make of that?
Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio,
to undo Hero and kill Leonato. Look you for any
other issue?
Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any
other issue?
Only to despite them, I will endeavour any thing.
thing
Go, then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and
the Count Claudio alone: tell them that you know
30that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the
prince and Claudio, as,--in love of your brother's
honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's
reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the
semblance of a maid,--that you have discovered
thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial:
offer them instances; which shall bear no less
likelihood than to see me at her chamber-window,
hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me
Claudio; and bring them to see this the very night
40before the intended wedding,--for in the meantime I
will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be
absent,--and there shall appear such seeming truth
of Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called
assurance and all the preparation overthrown.
Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you
know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both
to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers
honor who hath made this match) and his friends reputation,
who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance
of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarcely
beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which
shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her
chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare
Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this
the very night before the intended wedding, for in the
meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall
be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of
Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance,
and all the preparation ouerthrowne
Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put
it in practise. Be cunning in the working this, and
thy fee is a thousand ducats.
put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and
thy fee is a thousand ducates
Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning
shall not shame me.
shall not shame me
I will presently go learn their day of marriage.
Exeunt
Exit.
Act II. Scene III. Leonato's orchard.
Enter Benedick
Boy!
Enter Benedicke alone.
Enter Boy
Signior?
In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither
to me in the orchard.
hither to me in the orchard
I am here already, sir.
Exit.
I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again.
Exit Boy
I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much
another man is a fool when he dedicates his
behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at
10such shallow follies in others, become the argument
of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man
is Claudio. I have known when there was no music
with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he
rather hear the tabour and the pipe: I have known
when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see a
good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake,
carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to
speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man
and a soldier; and now is he turned orthography; his
20words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many
strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with
these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not
be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but
I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster
of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman
is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am
well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all
graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in
my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise,
30or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her;
fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not
near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good
discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall
be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and
Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.
Withdraws
heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing
how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his
behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such
shallow follies in others, become the argument of his
owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio.
I haue known when there was no musicke with him but
the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the
taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue
walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will
he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dublet:
he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like
an honest man & a souldier) and now is he turn'd orthography,
his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so
many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with
these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee
sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile
take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he
shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet
I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertuous,
yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman,
one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall
be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile neuer
cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde,
or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of
good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal
be of what colour it please God, hah! the Prince and
Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato
Come, shall we hear this music?
Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Iacke Wilson.
Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,
As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
As husht on purpose to grace harmonie
See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
O, very well, my lord: the music ended,
We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.
Wee'll fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth
Enter Balthasar with Music
Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.
O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander music any more than once.
To slander musicke any more then once
It is the witness still of excellency
To put a strange face on his own perfection.
I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.
To slander Musicke any more then once
Because you talk of wooing, I will sing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
50To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he swear he loves.
To put a strange face on his owne perfection,
I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more
Now, pray thee, come;
Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Do it in notes.
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit,
To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he sweare he loues
Note this before my notes;
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Doe it in notes
Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks;
Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing.
Air
Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting
Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it
60not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out
of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when
all's done.
The Song
Note notes forsooth, and nothing
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
70Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy:
Then sigh not so, & c.
not strange that sheepes guts should hale soules out of
mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's
done.
The Song.
Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceiuers euer,
One foote in Sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant neuer,
Then sigh not so, but let them goe,
And be you blithe and bonnie,
Conuerting all your sounds of woe,
Into hey nony nony.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heauy,
The fraud of men were euer so,
Since summer first was leauy,
Then sigh not so, &c
By my troth, a good song.
And an ill singer, my lord.
Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift.
shift
An he had been a dog that should have howled thus,
80they would have hanged him: and I pray God his bad
voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the
night-raven, come what plague could have come after
it.
thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his
bad voyce bode no mischiefe, I had as liefe haue heard
the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come after
it
Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee,
get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we
would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window.
thee get vs some excellent musick: for to morrow night
we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window
The best I can, my lord.
Exit Balthasar.
Do so: farewell.
Exit Balthasar
Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of
90today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with
Signior Benedick?
was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice
was in loue with signior Benedicke?
O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did
never think that lady would have loved any man.
thinke that Lady would haue loued any man
No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she
should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in
all outward behaviors seemed ever to abhor.
should so dote on Signior Benedicke, whom shee hath in
all outward behauiours seemed euer to abhorre
Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think
of it but that she loves him with an enraged
100affection: it is past the infinite of thought.
thinke of it, but that she loues him with an inraged affection,
it is past the infinite of thought
May be she doth but counterfeit.
Faith, like enough.
O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of
passion came so near the life of passion as she
discovers it.
of passion, came so neere the life of passion as she discouers
it
Why, what effects of passion shows she?
Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.
What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard
my daughter tell you how.
heard my daughter tell you how
She did, indeed.
How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I
thought her spirit had been invincible against all
assaults of affection.
haue thought her spirit had beene inuincible against all
assaults of affection
I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially
against Benedick.
against Benedicke
I should think this a gull, but that the
white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot,
sure, hide himself in such reverence.
fellow speakes it: knauery cannot sure hide
himselfe in such reuerence
He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up.
Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?
No; and swears she never will: that's her torment.
torment
'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall
I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him
with scorn, write to him that I love him?'
I, saies she, that haue so oft encountred him with scorne,
write to him that I loue him?
This says she now when she is beginning to write to
him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and
there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a
sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all.
write to him, for shee'll be vp twenty times a night, and
there will she sit in her smocke, till she haue writ a sheet
of paper: my daughter tells vs all
Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a
130pretty jest your daughter told us of.
a pretty iest your daughter told vs of
O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she
found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?
she found Benedicke and Beatrice betweene the sheete
That.
O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence;
railed at herself, that she should be so immodest
to write to one that she knew would flout her; 'I
measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I
should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I
love him, I should.'
raild at her self, that she should be so immodest to write,
to one that shee knew would flout her: I measure him,
saies she, by my owne spirit, for I should flout him if hee
writ to mee, yea though I loue him, I should
Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs,
beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O
sweet Benedick! God give me patience!'
sobs, beates her heart, teares her hayre, praies, curses, O
sweet Benedicke, God giue me patience
She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the
ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter
is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage
to herself: it is very true.
extasie hath so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is
somtime afeard she will doe a desperate out-rage to her
selfe, it is very true
It were good that Benedick knew of it by some
other, if she will not discover it.
other, if she will not discouer it
To what end? He would make but a sport of it and
150torment the poor lady worse.
and torment the poore Lady worse
An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an
excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion,
she is virtuous.
shee's an excellent sweet Lady, and (out of all suspition,)
she is vertuous
And she is exceeding wise.
In every thing but in loving Benedick.
O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender
a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath
the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just
cause, being her uncle and her guardian.
so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that bloud
hath the victory, I am sorry for her, as I haue iust cause,
being her Vncle, and her Guardian
I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would
have daffed all other respects and made her half
myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear
what a' will say.
mee, I would haue daft all other respects, and made her
halfe my selfe: I pray you tell Benedicke of it, and heare
what he will say
Were it good, think you?
Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she
will die, if he love her not, and she will die, ere
she make her love known, and she will die, if he woo
her, rather than she will bate one breath of her
accustomed crossness.
will die, if hee loue her not, and shee will die ere shee
make her loue knowne, and she will die if hee wooe her,
rather than shee will bate one breath of her accustomed
crossenesse
She doth well: if she should make tender of her
love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the
man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.
loue, 'tis very possible hee'l scorne it, for the man (as you
know all) hath a contemptible spirit
He is a very proper man.
He hath indeed a good outward happiness.
Before God! and, in my mind, very wise.
He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.
wit
And I take him to be valiant.
As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of
quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he
180avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes
them with a most Christian-like fear.
quarrels you may see hee is wise, for either hee auoydes
them with great discretion, or vndertakes them with a
Christian-like feare
If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace:
if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a
quarrel with fear and trembling.
peace, if hee breake the peace, hee ought to enter into a
quarrell with feare and trembling
And so will he do; for the man doth fear God,
howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests
he will make. Well I am sorry for your niece. Shall
we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love?
howsoeuer it seemes not in him, by some large ieasts hee
will make: well, I am sorry for your niece, shall we goe
see Benedicke, and tell him of her loue
Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with
190good counsel.
with good counsell
Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first.
out first
Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter:
let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I
could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see
how much he is unworthy so good a lady.
let it coole the while, I loue Benedicke well, and I
could wish he would modestly examine himselfe, to see
how much he is vnworthy to haue so good a Lady
My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.
If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never
trust my expectation.
trust my expectation
Let there be the same net spread for her; and that
200must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The
sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of
another's dotage, and no such matter: that's the
scene that I would see, which will be merely a
dumb-show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner.
Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato
that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry:
the sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of anothers
dotage, and no such matter, that's the Scene that I
would see, which will be meerely a dumbe shew: let vs
send her to call him into dinner.
Exeunt.
[Coming forward] This can be no trick: the
conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of
this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady: it
seems her affections have their full bent. Love me!
why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured:
210they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive
the love come from her; they say too that she will
rather die than give any sign of affection. I did
never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy
are they that hear their detractions and can put
them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a
truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis
so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving
me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor
no great argument of her folly, for I will be
220horribly in love with her. I may chance have some
odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me,
because I have railed so long against marriage: but
doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat
in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of
the brain awe a man from the career of his humour?
No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would
die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I
were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day!
230she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in
her.
borne, they haue the truth of this from Hero, they seeme
to pittie the Lady: it seemes her affections haue the full
bent: loue me? why it must be requited: I heare how I
am censur'd, they say I will beare my selfe proudly, if I
perceiue the loue come from her: they say too, that she
will rather die than giue any signe of affection: I did neuer
thinke to marry, I must not seeme proud, happy are
they that heare their detractions, and can put them to
mending: they say the Lady is faire, 'tis a truth, I can
beare them witnesse: and vertuous, tis so, I cannot reprooue
it, and wise, but for louing me, by my troth it is
no addition to her witte, nor no great argument of her
folly; for I wil be horribly in loue with her, I may chance
haue some odde quirkes and remnants of witte broken
on mee, because I haue rail'd so long against marriage:
but doth not the appetite alter? a man loues the meat in
his youth, that he cannot indure in his age. Shall quips
and sentences, and these paper bullets of the braine awe
a man from the careere of his humour? No, the world
must be peopled. When I said I would die a batcheler, I
did not think I should liue till I were maried, here comes
Beatrice: by this day, shee's a faire Lady, I doe spie some
markes of loue in her.
Enter Beatrice
Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
Enter Beatrice.
dinner
Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.
I took no more pains for those thanks than you take
pains to thank me: if it had been painful, I would
not have come.
you take paines to thanke me, if it had been painefull, I
would not haue come
You take pleasure then in the message?
Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's
point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach,
240signior: fare you well.
Exit
point, and choake a daw withall: you haue no stomacke
signior, fare you well.
Exit.
Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in
to dinner;' there's a double meaning in that 'I took
no more pains for those thanks than you took pains
to thank me.' that's as much as to say, Any pains
that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do
not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not
love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture.
Exit
into dinner: there's a double meaning in that: I tooke
no more paines for those thankes then you took paines
to thanke me, that's as much as to say, any paines that I
take for you is as easie as thankes: if I do not take pitty
of her I am a villaine, if I doe not loue her I am a Iew, I
will goe get her picture.
Exit.
Act III
Act III. Scene I. Leonato's garden.
Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula
Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor;
There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
Proposing with the prince and Claudio:
Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse
Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter, like favourites,
10Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her,
To listen our purpose. This is thy office;
Bear thee well in it and leave us alone.
Actus Tertius.
Enter Hero and two Gentlemen, Margaret, and Vrsula.
There shalt thou finde my Cosin Beatrice,
Proposing with the Prince and Claudio,
Whisper her eare, and tell her I and Vrsula,
Walke in the Orchard, and our whole discourse
Is all of her, say that thou ouer-heardst vs,
And bid her steale into the pleached bower,
Where hony-suckles ripened by the sunne,
Forbid the sunne to enter: like fauourites,
Made proud by Princes, that aduance their pride,
Against that power that bred it, there will she hide her,
To listen our purpose, this is thy office,
Beare thee well in it, and leaue vs alone
I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently.
Exit
Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick.
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit:
20My talk to thee must be how Benedick
Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearsay.
Enter Beatrice, behind
Now begin;
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
As we do trace this alley vp and downe,
Our talke must onely be of Benedicke,
When I doe name him, let it be thy part,
To praise him more then euer man did merit,
My talke to thee must be how Benedicke
Is sicke in loue with Beatrice; of this matter,
Is little Cupids crafty arrow made,
That onely wounds by heare-say: now begin,
Enter Beatrice.
For looke where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to heare our conference
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait:
30So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture.
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
Cut with her golden ores the siluer streame,
And greedily deuoure the treacherous baite:
So angle we for Beatrice, who euen now,
Is couched in the wood-bine couerture,
Feare you not my part of the Dialogue
Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
Approaching the bower
No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
I know her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggerds of the rock.
Of the false sweete baite that we lay for it:
No truely Vrsula, she is too disdainfull,
I know her spirits are as coy and wilde,
As Haggerds of the rocke
But are you sure
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
That Benedicke loues Beatrice so intirely?
So says the prince and my new-trothed lord.
And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
They did entreat me to acquaint her of it;
But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick,
To wish him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.
But I perswaded them, if they lou'd Benedicke,
To wish him wrastle with affection,
And neuer to let Beatrice know of it
Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman
Deserve as full as fortunate a bed
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
Deserue as full as fortunate a bed,
As euer Beatrice shall couch vpon?
O god of love! I know he doth deserve
50As much as may be yielded to a man:
But Nature never framed a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice;
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on, and her wit
Values itself so highly that to her
All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.
As much as may be yeelded to a man:
But Nature neuer fram'd a womans heart,
Of prowder stuffe then that of Beatrice:
Disdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eyes,
Mis-prizing what they looke on, and her wit
Values it selfe so highly, that to her
All matter else seemes weake: she cannot loue,
Nor take no shape nor proiect of affection,
Shee is so selfe indeared
Sure, I think so;
60And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.
And therefore certainely it were not good
She knew his loue, lest she make sport at it
Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
She would swear the gentleman should be her sister;
If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique,
Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agate very vilely cut;
If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
70If silent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out
And never gives to truth and virtue that
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
How wise, how noble, yong, how rarely featur'd.
But she would spell him backward: if faire fac'd,
She would sweare the gentleman should be her sister:
If blacke, why Nature drawing of an anticke,
Made a foule blot: if tall, a launce ill headed:
If low, an agot very vildlie cut:
If speaking, why a vane blowne with all windes:
If silent, why a blocke moued with none.
So turnes she euery man the wrong side out,
And neuer giues to Truth and Vertue, that
Which simplenesse and merit purchaseth
Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
No, not to be so odd and from all fashions
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable:
But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
80Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
It were a better death than die with mocks,
Which is as bad as die with tickling.
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable,
But who dare tell her so? if I should speake,
She would mocke me into ayre, O she would laugh me
Out of my selfe, presse me to death with wit,
Therefore let Benedicke like couered fire,
Consume away in sighes, waste inwardly:
It were a better death, to die with mockes,
Which is as bad as die with tickling
Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say.
No; rather I will go to Benedick
And counsel him to fight against his passion.
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with: one doth not know
How much an ill word may empoison liking.
And counsaile him to fight against his passion,
And truly Ile deuise some honest slanders,
To staine my cosin with, one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoison liking
O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
She cannot be so much without true judgment--
Having so swift and excellent a wit
As she is prized to have--as to refuse
So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick.
She cannot be so much without true iudgement,
Hauing so swift and excellent a wit
As she is prisde to haue, as to refuse
So rare a Gentleman as signior Benedicke
He is the only man of Italy.
Always excepted my dear Claudio.
Alwaies excepted, my deare Claudio
I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,
Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick,
For shape, for bearing, argument and valour,
100Goes foremost in report through Italy.
Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedicke,
For shape, for bearing argument and valour,
Goes formost in report through Italy
Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.
When are you married, madam?
When are you married Madame?
Why, every day, to-morrow. Come, go in:
I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel
Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
Ile shew thee some attires, and haue thy counsell,
Which is the best to furnish me to morrow
She's limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam.
We haue caught her Madame?
If it proves so, then loving goes by haps:
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
Exeunt Hero and Ursula
Some Cupid kills with arrowes, some with traps.
Exit.
[Coming forward]
What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of such.
And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:
If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band;
For others say thou dost deserve, and I
120Believe it better than reportingly.
Exit
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorne so much?
Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adew,
No glory liues behinde the backe of such.
And Benedicke, loue on, I will requite thee,
Taming my wilde heart to thy louing hand:
If thou dost loue, my kindnesse shall incite thee
To binde our loues vp in a holy band.
For others say thou dost deserue, and I
Beleeue it better then reportingly.
Exit.
Act III. Scene II. A room in Leonato's house
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato
I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and
then go I toward Arragon.
Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedicke, and Leonato.
and then go I toward Arragon
I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll
vouchsafe me.
me
Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss
of your marriage as to show a child his new coat
and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold
with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown
of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all
10mirth: he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's
bow-string and the little hangman dare not shoot at
him; he hath a heart as sound as a bell and his
tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinks his
tongue speaks.
glosse of your marriage, as to shew a childe his new coat
and forbid him to weare it, I will onely bee bold with
Benedicke for his companie, for from the crowne of his
head, to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth, he hath twice
or thrice cut Cupids bow-string, and the little hang-man
dare not shoot at him, he hath a heart as sound as a bell,
and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinkes,
his tongue speakes
Gallants, I am not as I have been.
So say I methinks you are sadder.
I hope he be in love.
Hang him, truant! there's no true drop of blood in
him, to be truly touched with love: if he be sad,
20he wants money.
in him to be truly toucht with loue, if he be sad, he wants
money
I have the toothache.
Draw it.
Hang it!
You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
What! sigh for the toothache?
Where is but a humour or a worm.
Well, every one can master a grief but he that has
it.
that has it
Yet say I, he is in love.
There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be
a fancy that he hath to strange disguises; as, to be
a Dutchman today, a Frenchman to-morrow, or in the
shape of two countries at once, as, a German from
the waist downward, all slops, and a Spaniard from
the hip upward, no doublet. Unless he have a fancy
to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no
fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is.
it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises, as to bee a
Dutchman to day, a Frenchman to morrow: vnlesse hee
haue a fancy to this foolery, as it appeares hee hath, hee
is no foole for fancy, as you would haue it to appeare
he is
If he be not in love with some woman, there is no
believing old signs: a' brushes his hat o'
40mornings; what should that bode?
is no beleeuing old signes, a brushes his hat a mornings,
What should that bode?
Hath any man seen him at the barber's?
No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him,
and the old ornament of his cheek hath already
stuffed tennis-balls.
him, and the olde ornament of his cheeke hath alreadie
stuft tennis balls
Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.
losse of a beard
Nay, a' rubs himself with civet: can you smell him
out by that?
him out by that?
That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in love.
loue
The greatest note of it is his melancholy.
And when was he wont to wash his face?
Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear
what they say of him.
what they say of him
Nay, but his jesting spirit; which is now crept into
a lute-string and now governed by stops.
into a lute-string, and now gouern'd by stops
Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: conclude,
conclude he is in love.
he is in loue
Nay, but I know who loves him.
That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.
knowes him not
Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of
60all, dies for him.
dies for him
She shall be buried with her face upwards.
Yet is this no charm for the toothache. Old
signior, walk aside with me: I have studied eight
or nine wise words to speak to you, which these
hobby-horses must not hear.
Exeunt Benedick and Leonato
walke aside with mee, I haue studied eight or nine
wise words to speake to you, which these hobby-horses
must not heare
For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.
'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this
played their parts with Beatrice; and then the two
bears will not bite one another when they meet.
played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Beares
will not bite one another when they meete.
Enter Don John
My lord and brother, God save you!
Enter Iohn the Bastard.
Good den, brother.
If your leisure served, I would speak with you.
In private?
If it please you: yet Count Claudio may hear; for
what I would speak of concerns him.
for what I would speake of, concernes him
What's the matter?
[To Claudio] Means your lordship to be married
to-morrow?
You know he does.
I know not that, when he knows what I know.
If there be any impediment, I pray you discover it.
it
You may think I love you not: let that appear
hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will
manifest. For my brother, I think he holds you
well, and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect
your ensuing marriage;--surely suit ill spent and
labour ill bestowed.
hereafter, and ayme better at me by that I now will manifest,
for my brother (I thinke, he holds you well, and in
dearenesse of heart) hath holpe to effect your ensuing
marriage: surely sute ill spent, and labour ill bestowed
Why, what's the matter?
I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances
90shortened, for she has been too long a talking of,
the lady is disloyal.
shortned, (for she hath beene too long a talking of) the
Lady is disloyall
Who, Hero?
Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero:
mans Hero
Disloyal?
The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I
could say she were worse: think you of a worse
title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till
further warrant: go but with me toight, you shall
see her chamber-window entered, even the night
100before her wedding-day: if you love her then,
to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour
to change your mind.
I could say she were worse, thinke you of a worse
title, and I will fit her to it: wonder not till further warrant:
goe but with mee to night, you shal see her chamber
window entred, euen the night before her wedding
day, if you loue her, then to morrow wed her: But it
would better fit your honour to change your minde
May this be so?
I will not think it.
If you dare not trust that you see, confess not
that you know: if you will follow me, I will show
you enough; and when you have seen more and heard
more, proceed accordingly.
that you know: if you will follow mee, I will shew you
enough, and when you haue seene more, & heard more,
proceed accordingly
If I see any thing toight why I should not marry
110her to-morrow in the congregation, where I should
wed, there will I shame her.
marry her to morrow in the congregation, where I shold
wedde, there will I shame her
And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join
with thee to disgrace her.
ioyne with thee to disgrace her
I will disparage her no farther till you are my
witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and
let the issue show itself.
witnesses, beare it coldly but till night, and let the issue
shew it selfe
O day untowardly turned!
O mischief strangely thwarting!
O plague right well prevented! so will you say when
120you have seen the sequel.
Exeunt
say, when you haue seene the sequele.
Exit.
Act III. Scene II. A room in Leonato's house
Enter Dogberry and Verges with the Watch
Are you good men and true?
Enter Dogbery and his compartner with the watch.
Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer
salvation, body and soul.
saluation body and soule
Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if
they should have any allegiance in them, being
chosen for the prince's watch.
them, if they should haue any allegiance in them, being
chosen for the Princes watch
Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
Dogbery
First, who think you the most desertless man to be
constable?
to be Constable
Hugh Otecake, sir, or George Seacole; for they can
write and read.
they can write and reade
Come hither, neighbour Seacole. God hath blessed
you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man is
the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.
blest you with a good name: to be a wel-fauoured man,
is the gift of Fortune, but to write and reade, comes by
Nature
Both which, master constable,--
You have: I knew it would be your answer. Well,
for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and make
no boast of it; and for your writing and reading,
let that appear when there is no need of such
20vanity. You are thought here to be the most
senseless and fit man for the constable of the
watch; therefore bear you the lantern. This is your
charge: you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are
to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.
well, for your fauour sir, why giue God thankes, & make
no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, let that
appeare when there is no need of such vanity, you are
thought heere to be the most senslesse and fit man for the
Constable of the watch: therefore beare you the lanthorne:
this is your charge: You shall comprehend all
vagrom men, you are to bid any man stand in the Princes
name
How if a' will not stand?
Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go; and
presently call the rest of the watch together and
thank God you are rid of a knave.
and presently call the rest of the Watch together, and
thanke God you are ridde of a knaue
If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none
30of the prince's subjects.
none of the Princes subiects
True, and they are to meddle with none but the
prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in
the streets; for, for the watch to babble and to
talk is most tolerable and not to be endured.
the Princes subiects: you shall also make no noise in the
streetes: for, for the Watch to babble and talke, is most
tollerable, and not to be indured
We will rather sleep than talk: we know what
belongs to a watch.
what belongs to a Watch
Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet
watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should
offend: only, have a care that your bills be not
40stolen. Well, you are to call at all the
ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.
watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend:
only haue a care that your bills be not stolne: well, you
are to call at all the Alehouses, and bid them that are
drunke get them to bed
How if they will not?
Why, then, let them alone till they are sober: if
they make you not then the better answer, you may
say they are not the men you took them for.
they make you not then the better answere, you may say,
they are not the men you tooke them for
Well, sir.
If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue
of your office, to be no true man; and, for such
kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them,
50why the more is for your honesty.
vertue of your office, to be no true man: and for such
kinde of men, the lesse you meddle or make with them,
why the more is for your honesty
If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay
hands on him?
lay hands on him
Truly, by your office, you may; but I think they
that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable
way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him
show himself what he is and steal out of your company.
that touch pitch will be defil'd: the most peaceable way
for you, if you doe take a theefe, is, to let him shew himselfe
what he is, and steale out of your company
You have been always called a merciful man, partner.
Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more
a man who hath any honesty in him.
more a man who hath anie honestie in him
If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call
to the nurse and bid her still it.
call to the nurse, and bid her still it
How if the nurse be asleep and will not hear us?
heare vs?
Why, then, depart in peace, and let the child wake
her with crying; for the ewe that will not hear her
lamb when it baes will never answer a calf when he bleats.
wake her with crying, for the ewe that will not heare
her Lambe when it baes, will neuer answere a calfe when
he bleates
'Tis very true.
This is the end of the charge:--you, constable, are
to present the prince's own person: if you meet the
prince in the night, you may stay him.
are to present the Princes owne person, if you meete the
Prince in the night, you may staie him
Nay, by'r our lady, that I think a' cannot.
Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows
the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not without
the prince be willing; for, indeed, the watch ought
to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay a
man against his will.
knowes the Statutes, he may staie him, marrie not without
the prince be willing, for indeed the watch ought to
offend no man, and it is an offence to stay a man against
his will
By'r lady, I think it be so.
Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be
any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your
fellows' counsels and your own; and good night.
80Come, neighbour.
anie matter of weight chances, call vp me, keepe your
fellowes counsailes, and your owne, and good night,
come neighbour
Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here
upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.
sit here vpon the Church bench till two, and then all to
bed
One word more, honest neighbours. I pray you watch
about Signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being
there to-morrow, there is a great coil toight.
Adieu: be vigitant, I beseech you.
Exeunt Dogberry and Verges
watch about signior Leonatoes doore, for the wedding being
there to morrow, there is a great coyle to night,
adiew, be vigitant I beseech you.
Exeunt.
Enter Borachio and Conrade
What Conrade!
Enter Borachio and Conrade.
[Aside] Peace! stir not.
Conrade, I say!
Here, man; I am at thy elbow.
Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought there would a
scab follow.
a scabbe follow
I will owe thee an answer for that: and now forward
with thy tale.
forward with thy tale
Stand thee close, then, under this pent-house, for
it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard,
utter all to thee.
drissels raine, and I will, like a true drunkard, vtter all to
thee
[Aside] Some treason, masters: yet stand close.
Therefore know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
thousand Ducates
Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?
Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any
villany should be so rich; for when rich villains
have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what
price they will.
villanie should be so rich? for when rich villains haue
neede of poore ones, poore ones may make what price
they will
I wonder at it.
That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou knowest that
the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is
nothing to a man.
that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloake, is nothing
to a man
Yes, it is apparel.
I mean, the fashion.
Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
Tush! I may as well say the fool's the fool. But
seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion
is?
seest thou not what a deformed theefe this fashion is?
[Aside] I know that Deformed; a' has been a vile
thief this seven year; a' goes up and down like a
gentleman: I remember his name.
this vii. yeares, a goes vp and downe like a gentle man:
I remember his name
Didst thou not hear somebody?
No; 'twas the vane on the house.
Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this
fashion is? how giddily a' turns about all the hot
bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty?
sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers
in the reeky painting, sometime like god Bel's
priests in the old church-window, sometime like the
shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry,
where his codpiece seems as massy as his club?
this fashion is, how giddily a turnes about all the Hotblouds,
betweene, foureteene & fiue & thirtie, sometimes
fashioning them like Pharaoes souldiours in the rechie
painting, sometime like god Bels priests in the old
Church window, sometime like the shauen Hercules in
the smircht worm-eaten tapestrie, where his cod-peece
seemes as massie as his club
All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears
out more apparel than the man. But art not thou
130thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast
shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
more apparrell then the man; but art not thou thy selfe
giddie with the fashion too that thou hast shifted out of
thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
Not so, neither: but know that I have toight
wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the
name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress'
chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good
night,--I tell this tale vilely:--I should first
tell thee how the prince, Claudio and my master,
planted and placed and possessed by my master Don
John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter.
wooed Margaret the Lady Heroes gentle-woman, by the
name of Hero, she leanes me out at her mistris chamberwindow,
bids me a thousand times good night: I tell
this tale vildly. I should first tell thee how the Prince
Claudio and my Master planted, and placed, and possessed
by my Master Don Iohn, saw a far off in the Orchard this
amiable incounter
And thought they Margaret was Hero?
Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the
devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly
by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by
the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly
by my villany, which did confirm any slander that
Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore
he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning
at the temple, and there, before the whole
congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night
150and send her home again without a husband.
diuell my Master knew she was Margaret and partly by
his oathes, which first possest them, partly by the darke
night which did deceiue them, but chiefely, by my villanie,
which did confirme any slander that Don Iohn had
made, away went Claudio enraged, swore hee would
meete her as he was apointed next morning at the Temple,
and there, before the whole congregation shame her
with what he saw o're night, and send her home againe
without a husband
We charge you, in the prince's name, stand!
Call up the right master constable. We have here
recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that
ever was known in the commonwealth.
here recouered the most dangerous peece of lechery, that
euer was knowne in the Common-wealth
And one Deformed is one of them: I know him; a'
wears a lock.
him, a weares a locke
Masters, masters,--
You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.
Masters, never speak: we charge you let us obey you to go with us.
We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken
up of these men's bills.
taken vp of these mens bils
A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you.
Exeunt
weele obey you.
Exeunt.
Act III. Scene IV. Hero's apartment.
Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula
Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire
her to rise.
Enter Hero, and Margaret, and Vrsula.
her to rise
I will, lady.
And bid her come hither.
Well.
Exit
Troth, I think your other rabato were better.
No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.
By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your
cousin will say so.
cosin will say so
My cousin's a fool, and thou art another: I'll wear
none but this.
weare none but this
I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair
were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare
fashion, i' faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan's
gown that they praise so.
haire were a thought browner: and your gown's a most
rare fashion yfaith, I saw the Dutchesse of Millaines
gowne that they praise so
O, that exceeds, they say.
By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of
yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with
silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves,
20and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel:
but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent
fashion, yours is worth ten on 't.
yours, cloth a gold and cuts, and lac'd with siluer, set with
pearles, downe sleeues, side sleeues, and skirts, round vnderborn
with a blewish tinsel, but for a fine queint gracefull
and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on't
God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is
exceeding heavy.
exceeding heauy
'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.
man
Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?
Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not
marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord
honourable without marriage? I think you would have
30me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' and bad
thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend
nobody: is there any harm in 'the heavier for a
husband'? None, I think, and it be the right husband
and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not
heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.
not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your Lord
honourable without marriage? I thinke you would haue
me say, sauing your reuerence a husband: and bad thinking
doe not wrest true speaking, Ile offend no body, is
there any harme in the heauier for a husband? none I
thinke, and it be the right husband, and the right wife,
otherwise 'tis light and not heauy, aske my Lady Beatrice
else, here she comes.
Enter Beatrice
Good morrow, coz.
Enter Beatrice.
Good morrow, sweet Hero.
Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune?
I am out of all other tune, methinks.
Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a
burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.
burden,) do you sing it and Ile dance it
Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your
husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall
lack no barns.
husband haue stables enough, you'll looke he shall lacke
no barnes
O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
my heeles
'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; tis time you were
ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!
were ready, by my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho
For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
For the letter that begins them all, H.
Well, and you be not turned Turk, there's no more
sailing by the star.
more sayling by the starre
What means the fool, trow?
Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!
desire
These gloves the count sent me; they are an
excellent perfume.
excellent perfume
I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell.
A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.
colde
O, God help me! God help me! how long have you
professed apprehension?
you profest apprehension?
Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?
me rarely?
It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your
cap. By my troth, I am sick.
your cap, by my troth I am sicke
Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus,
and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.
and lay it to your heart, it is the onely thing for a qualm
There thou prickest her with a thistle.
Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in
this Benedictus.
in this benedictus
Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I
meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance
70that I think you are in love: nay, by'r lady, I am
not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list
not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think,
if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you
are in love or that you will be in love or that you
can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and
now is he become a man: he swore he would never
marry, and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats
his meat without grudging: and how you may be
converted I know not, but methinks you look with
80your eyes as other women do.
I meant plaine holy thissell, you may thinke perchance
that I thinke you are in loue, nay birlady I am not
such a foole to thinke what I list, nor I list not to thinke
what I can, nor indeed, I cannot thinke, if I would thinke
my hart out of thinking, that you are in loue, or that you
will be in loue, or that you can be in loue: yet Benedicke
was such another, and now is he become a man, he swore
hee would neuer marry, and yet now in despight of his
heart he eates his meat without grudging, and how you
may be conuerted I know not, but me thinkes you looke
with your eies as other women doe
What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Not a false gallop.
Enter Ursula
Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior
Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the
town, are come to fetch you to church.
Enter Vrsula.
Benedicke, Don Iohn, and all the gallants of the
towne are come to fetch you to Church
Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.
Exeunt
good Vrsula.
Act III. Scene V. Another room in Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges
What would you with me, honest neighbour?
Enter Leonato, and the Constable, and the Headborough.
Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you
that decerns you nearly.
with you, that decernes you nearely
Brief, I pray you; for you see it is a busy time with me.
with me
Marry, this it is, sir.
Yes, in truth it is, sir.
What is it, my good friends?
Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the
matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so
10blunt as, God help, I would desire they were; but,
in faith, honest as the skin between his brows.
matter, an old man sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as
God helpe I would desire they were, but infaith honest
as the skin betweene his browes
Yes, I thank God I am as honest as any man living
that is an old man and no honester than I.
that is an old man, and no honester then I
Comparisons are odorous: palabras, neighbour Verges.
Verges
Neighbours, you are tedious.
It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the
poor duke's officers; but truly, for mine own part,
if I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in
my heart to bestow it all of your worship.
the poore Dukes officers, but truely for mine owne part,
if I were as tedious as a King I could finde in my heart to
bestow it all of your worship
All thy tediousness on me, ah?
Yea, an 'twere a thousand pound more than 'tis; for
I hear as good exclamation on your worship as of any
man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I
am glad to hear it.
than 'tis, for I heare as good exclamation on your Worship
as of any man in the Citie, and though I bee but a
poore man, I am glad to heare it
And so am I.
I would fain know what you have to say.
Marry, sir, our watch toight, excepting your
worship's presence, ha' ta'en a couple of as arrant
knaves as any in Messina.
worships presence, haue tane a couple of as arrant
knaues as any in Messina
A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they
say, when the age is in, the wit is out: God help
us! it is a world to see. Well said, i' faith,
neighbour Verges: well, God's a good man; an two men
ride of a horse, one must ride behind. An honest
soul, i' faith, sir; by my troth he is, as ever
broke bread; but God is to be worshipped; all men
are not alike; alas, good neighbour!
they say, when the age is in, the wit is out, God helpe vs,
it is a world to see: well said yfaith neighbour Verges,
well, God's a good man, and two men ride of a horse,
one must ride behinde, an honest soule yfaith sir, by my
troth he is, as euer broke bread, but God is to bee worshipt,
all men are not alike, alas good neighbour
Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you.
Gifts that God gives.
I must leave you.
One word, sir: our watch, sir, have indeed
comprehended two aspicious persons, and we would
have them this morning examined before your worship.
comprehended two aspitious persons, & we would haue
them this morning examined before your worship
Take their examination yourself and bring it me: I
am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you.
me, I am now in great haste, as may appeare vnto you
It shall be suffigance.
Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well.
Exit.
Enter a Messenger
My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to
her husband.
daughter to her husband
I'll wait upon them: I am ready.
Exeunt Leonato and Messenger
Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis Seacole;
bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the gaol: we
are now to examination these men.
bid him bring his pen and inkehorne to the Gaole:
we are now to examine those men
And we must do it wisely.
We will spare for no wit, I warrant you; here's
that shall drive some of them to a non-come: only
get the learned writer to set down our
excommunication and meet me at the gaol.
Exeunt
heere's that shall driue some to a non-come, only
get the learned writer to set downe our excommunication,
and meet me at the Iaile.
Exeunt.
Act IV
Act IV. Scene I. A church.
Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Leonato, Friar Francis, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, Beatrice, and attendants
Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the plain
form of marriage, and you shall recount their
particular duties afterwards.
Actus Quartus.
Enter Enter Prince, Bastard, Leonato, Frier, Claudio, Benedicke, Hero, and Beatrice.
plaine forme of marriage, and you shal recount their particular
duties afterwards
You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.
No.
To be married to her: friar, you come to marry her.
her
Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.
Count
I do.
If either of you know any inward impediment why you
10should not be conjoined, charge you, on your souls,
to utter it.
why you should not be conioyned, I charge you on your
soules to vtter it
Know you any, Hero?
None, my lord.
Know you any, count?
I dare make his answer, none.
O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily
do, not knowing what they do!
men daily do!
How now! interjections? Why, then, some be of
laughing, as, ah, ha, he!
of laughing, as ha, ha, he
Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave:
Will you with free and unconstrained soul
Give me this maid, your daughter?
Will you with free and vnconstrained soule
Giue me this maid your daughter?
As freely, son, as God did give her me.
And what have I to give you back, whose worth
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
Nothing, unless you render her again.
Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
There, Leonato, take her back again:
Give not this rotten orange to your friend;
30She's but the sign and semblance of her honour.
Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Comes not that blood as modest evidence
To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear,
All you that see her, that she were a maid,
By these exterior shows? But she is none:
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
There Leonato, take her backe againe,
Giue not this rotten Orenge to your friend,
Shee's but the signe and semblance of her honour:
Behold how like a maid she blushes heere!
O what authoritie and shew of truth
Can cunning sinne couer it selfe withall!
Comes not that bloud, as modest euidence,
To witnesse simple Vertue? would you not sweare
All you that see her, that she were a maide,
By these exterior shewes? But she is none:
She knowes the heat of a luxurious bed:
Her blush is guiltinesse, not modestie
What do you mean, my lord?
Not to be married,
Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.
Not to knit my soule to an approued wanton
Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginity,--
Haue vanquisht the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginitie
I know what you would say: if I have known her,
You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the 'forehand sin:
No, Leonato,
50I never tempted her with word too large;
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Bashful sincerity and comely love.
(her,
You will say, she did imbrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the forehand sinne: No Leonato,
I neuer tempted her with word too large,
But as a brother to his sister, shewed
Bashfull sinceritie and comely loue
And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
Out on thee! Seeming! I will write against it:
You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in savage sensuality.
You seeme to me as Diane in her Orbe,
As chaste as is the budde ere it be blowne:
But you are more intemperate in your blood,
Than Venus, or those pampred animalls,
That rage in sauage sensualitie
Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?
Sweet prince, why speak not you?
What should I speak?
I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common stale.
I stand dishonour'd that haue gone about,
To linke my deare friend to a common stale
Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
This looks not like a nuptial.
True! O God!
Leonato, stand I here?
70Is this the prince? is this the prince's brother?
Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own?
Is this the Prince? is this the Princes brother?
Is this face Heroes? are our eies our owne?
All this is so: but what of this, my lord?
Let me but move one question to your daughter;
And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
And by that fatherly and kindly power,
That you haue in her, bid her answer truly
I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
O, God defend me! how am I beset!
What kind of catechising call you this?
What kinde of catechizing call you this?
To make you answer truly to your name.
Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
With any just reproach?
With any iust reproach?
Marry, that can Hero;
Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
What man was he talk'd with you yesternight
Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.
Hero it selfe can blot out Heroes vertue.
What man was he, talkt with you yesternight,
Out at your window betwixt twelue and one?
Now if you are a maid, answer to this
I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.
Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour,
90Myself, my brother and this grieved count
Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night
Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window
Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
A thousand times in secret.
I am sorry you must heare: vpon mine honor,
My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Count
Did see her, heare her, at that howre last night,
Talke with a ruffian at her chamber window,
Who hath indeed most like a liberall villaine,
Confest the vile encounters they haue had
A thousand times in secret
Fie, fie! they are not to be named, my lord,
Not to be spoke of;
There is not chastity enough in language
Without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady,
100I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
Not to be spoken of,
There is not chastitie enough in language,
Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty Lady
I am sorry for thy much misgouernment
O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been placed
About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell,
Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love,
And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang,
To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
And never shall it more be gracious.
If halfe thy outward graces had beene placed
About thy thoughts and counsailes of thy heart?
But fare thee well, most foule, most faire, farewell
Thou pure impiety, and impious puritie,
For thee Ile locke vp all the gates of Loue,
And on my eie-lids shall Coniecture hang,
To turne all beauty into thoughts of harme,
And neuer shall it more be gracious
Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?
Hero swoons
Why, how now, cousin! wherefore sink you down?
Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light,
Smother her spirits up.
Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio
Smother her spirits vp
How doth the lady?
Dead, I think. Help, uncle!
Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar!
Hero, why Hero, Vncle, Signor Benedicke, Frier
O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand.
Death is the fairest cover for her shame
That may be wish'd for.
Death is the fairest couer for her shame
That may be wisht for
How now, cousin Hero!
Have comfort, lady.
Dost thou look up?
Yea, wherefore should she not?
Wherefore! Why, doth not every earthly thing
Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
The story that is printed in her blood?
Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes:
For, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
130Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches,
Strike at thy life. Grieved I, I had but one?
Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame?
O, one too much by thee! Why had I one?
Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes?
Why had I not with charitable hand
Took up a beggar's issue at my gates,
Who smirch'd thus and mired with infamy,
I might have said 'No part of it is mine;
This shame derives itself from unknown loins'?
140But mine and mine I loved and mine I praised
And mine that I was proud on, mine so much
That I myself was to myself not mine,
Valuing of her,--why, she, O, she is fallen
Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again
And salt too little which may season give
To her foul-tainted flesh!
Cry shame vpon her? Could she heere denie
The storie that is printed in her blood?
Do not liue Hero, do not ope thine eyes:
For did I thinke thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger then thy shames,
My selfe would on the reward of reproaches
Strike at thy life. Grieu'd I, I had but one?
Chid I, for that at frugal Natures frame?
O one too much by thee: why had I one?
Why euer was't thou louelie in my eies?
Why had I not with charitable hand
Tooke vp a beggars issue at my gates,
Who smeered thus, and mir'd with infamie,
I might haue said, no part of it is mine:
This shame deriues it selfe from vnknowne loines,
But mine, and mine I lou'd, and mine I prais'd,
And mine that I was proud on mine so much,
That I my selfe, was to my selfe not mine:
Valewing of her, why she, O she is falne
Into a pit of Inke, that the wide sea
Hath drops too few to wash her cleane againe,
And salt too little, which may season giue
To her foule tainted flesh
Sir, sir, be patient.
For my part, I am so attired in wonder,
150I know not what to say.
in wonder, I know not what to say