SCENE I-Before Leonato's House. Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others. with a Messenger. Leonato. I learn in this letter, that don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off, when I left him. Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young Florentine, called Claudio. Mess. 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. Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it. Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness. Leon. Did he break out into tears? Leon. 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! Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army of any sort. Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece? Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua. Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever be was. Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and Abundance. 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. Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valuable trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach. Mess. And a good soldier too, lady. Beat. And a good soldier to a lady-But what is he to a lord? Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honorable virtues. Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stufling,-Well, we are all mortal. Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them. Beat. 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 bear 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. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. Mess. He is ra st in the company of the right no- Beat. O lord! he will hang upon him like a dis- Leon. You will never run mad, niece. Enter Don PEDRO attended by BALTHAZAR and D. Pedro Good signior Leonato, you are come Leon. Never came trouble into my house in the Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so. D. Pedro. You have it full, Benedick: we may are like an honorable father. Bene. If signior 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, signior Benedick; no body 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 humor 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! 60 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. of yours. Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer: But keep your way o God's rane; I have done. Beat. You always end with a jade's trick; I know you of old. Acr J. little for a great praise: only this commendation I Bene. Why, i'faith, methinks she is too low for can afford her; that were she other than she is, a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too 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 af ter her? Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel? ever I look'd on. no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not 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 again? Go to, i'faith; an thou wilt needs thrust world one man, but he will wear his cap with sus thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh picion Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score 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 woul! constra n me to tell. D. Pedro. I charge thee, on thy allegiance. Bene. You hear, count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man, I would have you think so; but on With Hero, Leonato's short daughter. 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: Claud. If this were so, so were it uttered. nor 'twas not so; but, indeed, God forbid it should Bene. Like the old tale, my lord: it is not so, be so. forbid 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. lord, I spoke mine. Claud. That I love her, I feel. loved, nor know how she should be worthy, is the D. Pedro. That she is worthy, I know. in it at the stake. in the despite of beauty. in the force of his will. D. Pedro. This is the sum of all: Don John, 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. that she brought me up. I likewise give her most Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat forsworn: Let me bid you welcome, my lord: be-winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an ing 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. 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. Claud. Is she not a modest young lady? Bene. 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? Claud. No, I pray thee, speak in sober judgment. cause I will not do them the wrong to mistrust D. Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look palo 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. hang me up at the door of a brothel-house, for the pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and sign of blind Cupid. D. Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. The tune sounded to cals off the dogs. Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and shoot at me; and he that hit's 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 of 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. Claud. If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad. D. Pedri Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver 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 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. Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit you Claud. To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,) D. Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. Bene. 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 BENEDICK. Claud. My liege, your highness now may do me good. D. Pedro. My love is thine to teach; teach it And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn alley in my orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: The prince discovered to Claudió that he loved my niece your daughter, and mean, 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. Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this! Ant. A good sharp fellow; I will send for him, and question him yourself. Leon. No, no; we will hold it as a dream, till it SCENE III-Another Room in Leonato's House Con. What the goujere, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad? D. John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit. Con. You should hear reason. D. John. And when I have heard it, what blessing bringeth it? Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance. D. John. I wonder that thou being (as thou say'st thou art) born under saturn, goest about to I cannot hide what I an: I must be sad when I apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. 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 D. Pedro. No child but Hero, she's his only heir; humor. Claud. D. Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently, Claud. How sweetly do you minister to love, The fairest grant is the necessity: Look, what will serve, is fit: 'tis once, thou lov'st; i know, we shall have revelling to-night; I will assume thy part in some disguise, And tell fair Hero I am Claudio; [Exeunt. Con. 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 s 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 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 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. Con. 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 your brother's right hand. Bora. Even he. 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 all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross The veneral disease. • Flatter. him any way I bless myself every way: You are is the greater, that I am subdued: Would the cook both sure, and will assist me? were of my mind!-Shall we go prove what's to be done? Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt. Con. To the death, my lord. D. John. Let us to the great supper; their cheer ACT II. SCENE I-A Hall in Leonato's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others. Leon. Was not count John here at supper? 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 troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. Ant. In faith, she is too curst. Beat. Too curst is more than curst: I shall lesson 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; 1 had rather lie in the woollen. Leon. You may light upon a husband mat 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 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-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 heaven; 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, [To HERO.] I trust you will be ruled by your father. Beat. Yes, 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 overmaster'd with a piece 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. Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know Scotch jig, a measure, and 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 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, BAL. THAZAR, Don JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET URSULA, and others, masked. D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk: and, spe cially, when I walk away. D. Pedro. With me in your company? D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your favor; for God defend, the lute should be like the case! D. Pedro My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. I Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd. Bene. Which is one! Marg. I say my prayers aloud. Bene. I love you the better; the hearers may cry Amen. Marg. God match me with a good dancer! Marg. And God keep him out of my sight, when the dance is done!-Answer, clerk. Balth. No more words; the clerk is answered. Urs. I know you well enough; you are signior Antonio. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head, Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him. Urs. 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, Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. Come, come; do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, nium, you are he: graces will appear, and there's an end. Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so? Bene. No, you shall pardon me. Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are? Bene. Not now. Beat. 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. Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure, you know him well enough. Bene. Not I, believe me. Beat. Did he never make you laugh? Bene. I pray you, what is he? Beat. 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 pleaseth men, and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him: I am sure, he is it. the fleet; I would he had boarded me. Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell hire what you say. Accostad Beat. Do, do; he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. [Music within.] must fol ow the leaders. We Bene. In every good thing. Beut. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Dance. Then exeunt all but Don JOHN, D. John. Are not you signior Benedick? have worn himself: and the rod he might have be stowed on you, who, as I take it, have stol'n his bird's nest. D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and ro store 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 tc 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, with but 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 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: shé 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 infer[Exeunt Don JOHN, and BORACHIO.nal Até in good apparel. I would to God, some D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love; he is enamored 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. Claud. How know you he loves her? D. John. Come, let us to the banquet. Claud. Thus answer I in name of Benedick, Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Which I mistrusted not: Farewell therefore, Hero: Bene. Count Claudio? Claud. Yea, the same. 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 a usurer's chain! or under your arm, like a lieutenants scarf? 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. Clau t. I pray you, leave me. Ben. Ho! now you strike like 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. [Exi!. 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. 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 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. D. Pedro. Te be whipped! What's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a school-boy; who, being overjoyed with finding a birds nest, hows it to his companion, and he steals it. D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? 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 night a Carriage, demeanor. • Passion. scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while she Re-enter CLAUDIO, BEATRICE, LEONATO, and 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 than hold three words conference with this harpy: beard; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather You have no employment for me? D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company and I gave him uses for it, a double heart for his D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have Claud. Not sad, my lord. 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. Ifaith, 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! 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 |