Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady. Beat. Do, good friend. Leon. You will never run mad, niece. Mess. Don Pedro is approached. Enter Don Pedro, attended by Balthazar and others, Don John, Claudio, and Benedick. D. Pedro. Good signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. Leon. 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. D. Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. -I think, this is your daughter. Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so. Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child. D. Pedro. 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. Bene. If siguior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders, for all Messina, as Like him as she is. Beat. I wonder, that you will still be talking, sig. nior Benedick; nobody marks you. Bene. What, my dear lady Disdain! are you yet living? Beat. 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. Bene. Then is courtesy a turn-coat :-But it is certain, I am 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. Beat. 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. Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face. Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. Leon. Please it your grace lead on? D. Pedro. Your hand, Leonato; we will go together. [Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio. Claud. Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato? Bene. I noted her not; but I looked on her. Bene. Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgement? or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex? Claud. No, I pray thee, speak in sober judgement. Bene. Why, i'faith, methinks she is too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can af ford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. Claud. Thou thinkest, I am in sport; I pray thee, tell me truly how thou likest her? Bene. Would you buy her, that you inquire after her? Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel? Bene. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with 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? Claud. In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that I ever looked on. Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not pos sessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty, as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope, you have no intent to turn husband; have you? Claud. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. Bene. Is it come to this, i' 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. Re-enter Don Pedro. D. Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's? Bene. I would, your grace would constrain me to tell. D. Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance. Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of dumb man, I would have you think so; but on my al yours. Bene. I would, my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer: But keep your way, o'God's name; I have done. Beat. You always end with a jade's trick; I know you of old. D. Pedro. This is the sum of all: Leonato,-signior Claudio, and 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. Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.-Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. D. John. I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you. legiance,-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. Claud. If this were so, so were it uttered. Bene. Like the old tale, my lord: it is not so, nor 'twas not so; but, indeed, God forbid it should be so. Claud. If my passion change not shortly, God for bid it should be otherwise. D. Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy. Claud. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. D. Pedro. By my troth, I speak my thought. Claud. And, in faith, my lord, 1 spoke mine. Bene. And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine. Claud. That I love her, I feel. D. Pedro. That she is worthy, I know. Bene. 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. D. Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty. Claud. And never could maintain his part, but in the force of his will. Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought 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 bacilor. D. Pedro. I shall see there, ere I die, look pale with love. Bene. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love: prove, that ever I lose more blood with 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. D. Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. Bene. 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. D. Pedro. Well, as time shall try: In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke. Bene. 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 harse to hire, let them signify under my sign,-Here you may see Benedick the married man. Claud. If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be hom-mad. But now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts D. Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently, That know love's grief by his complexion! 89 D. Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than Look, what will serve, is fit: 'tis once, thou lov'st; I know, we shall have revelling to-night; [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Room in Leonato's House. Enter son? Hath he provided this music? Ant. He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamed not of. Leon. Are they good? Ant. As the event stamps them; but they have a D. Pedro. Nay, if Cupid hath not spent all his quiv- good cover, they show well outward. The prince and er in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. Bene. I look for an earthquake too then. D. Pedro, Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the mean time, 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. Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such membassage; and so I commit you count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this? Claud. To the tuition of God: From my house, (if I question him yourself. had it. D. Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not: The body of your And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn Claud. Hath Leonato any son, my lord? D. Pedro. No child but Hero, she's his only heir: Dost thou affect her, Claudio? O my lord, Claud. Leon. No, no; we will hold it as a dream, till it ap- SCENE III-Another Room in Leonato's House. En- D. John. There is no measure in the occasion that D. John. And when I have heard it, what blessing Conr. If not a present remedy, yet a patient suffer ance. D. John. I wonder, that thou being (as thou say'st thou art) born 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 to no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour. Conr. 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 ta'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. D. John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdain'd of all, than to fashion a carriage to rob love from an in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied that I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a 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 mean time, let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me. Conr. Can you make no use of your discontent? D. John. I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? What news, Borachio? Enter Borachio. Bora. I came yonder from a great supper; the prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leonato; and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. D. John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool, that betroths himself to unquietness? Bora. Marry, it is to your brother's right hand. D. John. A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. D. John. A very forward March-chick! How came you to this? Bora. 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. D. John. Come, come, let us thither; this may prove food to my displeasure; that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way: You are both sure, and will assist me? Conr. To the death, my lord. D. John. Let us to the great supper; their cheer is the greater, that I am subdued: "Would the cook were of my mind!--Shall we prove what's to be done? Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. w ACT II. [Exeunt. Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him, but I am heart-burned an hour after. Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition. Beat. He were an excellent man, that were made just in the mid-way 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. Leon. Then half signior Benedick's tongue in count John's mouth, and half count John's melancholy in signior Benedick's face, Beat. 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 he could get her good will. Leon. By my trotb, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. Ant. In faitly, she is too curst. Beat. Too curst is more than eurst: I shall lesser God's sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst cow short horns, but to a cow too curst he sends none. Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns. Beat. 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. Leon. You may light upon a husband, that hath no beard. Beat. What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting gentlewoman! He that hath a beard, is more than a youth; and he that hath no beard, is less than a man: and be 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 six-pence in earnest of the bear-herd, and lead his apes into hell. Leon. Well then, go you into hell? Beat. 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 hea ven; 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. Ant. Well, niece, I trust, you will be ruled by your father. [To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make courtesy, and say, Father, as it please you :-but yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, Father, as it please me. Leon. Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. Beat. Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be over mastered with a piece of valiant dust? to make an aecount 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. Leon. Daughter, remember, what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. Beat. The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not woo'd 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 Scoteh jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wed ding, mannerly-modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and, with his had legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave. Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by day-light. Leon. The revellers are entering; brother, make good room. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar; Don John, Borachio, Margaret, Ursula, and others, mask D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? Here. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing. I am yours for the walk; and, especially when I walk away. D. Pedre. With me in your company? Here. I may say so, when I please. D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hers. When I like your favour; for God defend the late should be like the case! D. Petre. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. Here. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd. [Takes her aside. Bene. Well. I would you did like me. Marg. So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill qualities. at him, and beat him: I am sure, he is in the fleet; I would he had boarded me. Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. Beat. Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not marked, or not laugh ed at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge's wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. [Music within.] We must follow the leaders. Bene. In every good thing. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Dance. Then exeunt all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio. D. John. 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. Bora. And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing. D. John. Are not you signior Benedick? D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dis suade him from her, she is no equal for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it, Claud. How know you he loves her? D. John. I heard him swear his affection. Bora. So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night. D. John. Come, let us to the banquet. [Exeunt Don John and Bora. And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Which I mistrusted not: Farewell therefore, Hero! Re-enter Benedick. Bene. Count Claudio? Bene. Come, will you go with me? Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under your arın, like a lieutenant's scari? You must wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I wish him joy of her. Bene. Why, that's spoken like an honest drover; so they sell bullocks. But did you think, the prince would have served you thus? Claud. I pray you, leave me. Bene. Ho! now you strike the blind man; 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. [Exit. Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowl! Now will he creep into sedges, But, 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, the bitter disposition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her person, and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. Re-enter Don Pedro, Hero, and Leonato. D. Pedro. Now, signior, where's the count? Did you see him? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren; I told him, and, I think, I 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 bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped. D. Pedro. To be whipped! What's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a school-boy; who, being overjoy'd with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. Beat. 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. D. Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are you sad? Claud. Not sad, my lord. D. Pedro. How then? Sick? Beat. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well: but civil, count; civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion. D. Pedro. I'faith, lady, I think your blazon to be D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is The transgression is in the stealer. Bene. 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 be stow'd on you, who, as I take it, have stolen his bird's nest. D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner. Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. D. Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman, that danced with her, told her she is much wronged by you. Bene. 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 me: 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 had 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 she 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 follow her. Re-enter Claudio, and Beatrice. D. Pedro. Look, here she comes. Bene. 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 toothpicker now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester 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? D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not; I cannot endure my lady Tongue. [Exit. D. Pedro. Come lady, come; you have lost the heart of signior Benedick. Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while; and I gave him 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. 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! Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it! Beat. Speak, count, 'tis your cue. Claud. 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. Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak, neither. D. Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. 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. Claud. And so she doth, cousin. Beat. Good lord, for alliance !-Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sun-burned; I may sit in a corner, and cry, heigh ho! for a husband. D. Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting: hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady? Beat. 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. D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cry'd ; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.Cousins, God give you joy! Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle.-By your grace's pardon. [Exit Beatrice. D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. Leon. 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 herself with laughing. D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a hus band. Leon. O, by no means; she mocks all her wooers out of suit. D. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. Leon. O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week mar. ried, they would talk themselves mad. |