Much Ado About Nothing

By William Shakespeare, c.1600

Expurgated by Alistair Ramsden and Braddon Giles 2004

(Estimated at 75 minutes duration)

 

Dramatis Personae

 

DON PEDRO, Prince of Aragon (Alistair)

DONNA JOANNA, bastard sister to Don Pedro (Robyn)

LEONATO, Lord of Messina (Giles)

CLAUDIO, a Lord of Florence, in service to Don Pedro (Steve)

BENEDICK, a Lord of Padua, in service to Don Pedro (Paul)

BORACHIO, in service to to DONNA JOANNA (Torum)

ABBESS FRANCIS, in service to Leonato (Morde)

HERO, daughter to Leonato (Wendy)

BEATRICE, niece to Leonato (Toni)

MARGARET, in service to Hero (Leisel)

URSULA, in service to Beatrice (Dawn)

 

ACT I. SCENE I. LEONATO’S house.

Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE

 

LEONATO

(Reading from a letter)

I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon

comes this night to Messina.

I find here that Don Pedro hath

bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.

He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much

glad of it.

 

BEATRICE

I pray you is Signior Mountanto returned from the

wars or no?

 

LEONATO

What is he that you ask for, niece?

 

HERO

My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua, father.

 

LEONATO

O, he’s returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

LEONATO

Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much;

but he’ll be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Apparently he hath done good service in these wars.

 

BEATRICE

You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it:

he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an

excellent stomach.

 

LEONATO

There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and you:

You never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit.

 

BEATRICE

Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last

conflict four of his five wits went halting off.

And who is his companion now?

He hath every month a new sworn brother.

 

LEONATO

Is’t possible?

 

BEATRICE

Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as

the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the

next block.

 

LEONATO

Niece, the gentleman is not in your books.

 

BEATRICE

No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray

you, who is his companion? Is there no young

squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?

 

LEONATO

(reading from the letter)

He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

Enter MARGARET and URSULA

 

LEONATO

You will never run mad, niece.

 

BEATRICE

No, not till a hot January.

 

Enter DON PEDRO, DONNA JOANNA, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK and BORACHIO

 

DON PEDRO

Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your

trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid

cost, and you encounter it.

 

LEONATO

Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of

your grace: when you depart from me, sorrow abides

and happiness takes his leave.

 

DON PEDRO

You embrace your charge too willingly.

I think this is your daughter.

 

LEONATO

Her mother hath many times told me so.

 

 

BENEDICK

Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?

 

LEONATO

Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.

 

BENEDICK

If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not

have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as

like him as she is.

 

BEATRICE

I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior

Benedick: nobody marks you.

 

BENEDICK

What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

BENEDICK

Then is courtesy a turncoat. 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.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

BENEDICK

God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some

gentleman or other shall ‘scape a predestinate

scratched face.

 

BEATRICE

Scratching could not make it worse, an ‘twere such

a face as yours were.

 

BENEDICK

Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

 

BEATRICE

A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

 

BENEDICK

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.

 

BEATRICE

You always end with a jade’s trick: I know you of old.

 

DON PEDRO

That 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.

 

LEONATO

(To DONNA JOANNA)

Let me bid you welcome, my lady: being reconciled to

the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.

 

DONNA JOANNA

I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank

you.

 

LEONATO

Please it your grace lead on?

 

DON PEDRO

Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.

 

Exeunt except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO

 

CLAUDIO

Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?

Is she not a modest young lady?

 

BENEDICK

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?

 

CLAUDIO

No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.

In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I

looked on.

 

BENEDICK

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

hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?

 

CLAUDIO

I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the

contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

 

BENEDICK

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.

 

Enter DON PEDRO

 

DON PEDRO

What secret hath held you here, that you followed

not to Leonato’s?

 

BENEDICK

I would your grace would constrain me to tell.

 

DON PEDRO

I charge thee on thy allegiance.

 

BENEDICK

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 mark how short his answer is;

With Hero, Leonato’s daughter.

 

CLAUDIO

If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it

should be otherwise.

 

DON PEDRO

Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.

 

CLAUDIO

You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.

 

DON PEDRO

By my troth, I speak my thought.

 

CLAUDIO

And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.

 

BENEDICK

And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.

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 bachelor.

 

DON PEDRO

I shall see thee too, ere I die, look pale with love.

 

BENEDICK

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! (All laugh)

And so, I leave you.

 

Exit BENEDICK

 

CLAUDIO

O, my lord,

When you went onward on this ended action,

I look’d upon Hero 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,

All prompting me how fair young Hero is,

Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars.

 

DON PEDRO

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 speak for you with her and her father,

And thou shalt have her.

In her bosom I’ll unclasp your heart

And take her hearing prisoner with the force

And strong encounter of your amorous tale:

Then after to her father will I speak;

And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.

In practise let us put it presently.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT I. SCENE II. (Omitted.)

 

ACT I. SCENE III. Leonato’s House.

Enter DONNA JOANNA

 

DONNA JOANNA

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.

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 woman, it must not be denied

but 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 meantime let me be that I am.

 

Enter BORACHIO

 

What news, Borachio?

 

BORACHIO

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.

 

DONNA JOANNA

Will it serve for any model to build mischief on?

What is he for a fool that betroths himself to

unquietness?

 

BORACHIO

Marry, it is your brother’s right hand.

 

DONNA JOANNA

Who? The most exquisite Claudio?

 

BORACHIO

Even he.

 

DONNA JOANNA

A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks

he?

 

BORACHIO

Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.

I overheard it privately agreed

upon that the prince should woo Hero for

Count Claudio.

 

DONNA JOANNA

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 will assist me?

 

BORACHIO

I’ll wait upon your ladyship.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT II. SCENE I. LEONATO’S house.

Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE with masks in hand

 

LEONATO

Was not Countess Joanna here at supper?

 

HERO

I saw her not.

 

BEATRICE

How tartly that lady looks! I never can see

her but I am heart-burned an hour after.

 

LEONATO

By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a

husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.

 

HERO

She is of a very melancholy disposition.

 

LEONATO

Daughter, remember what I told you: if the Prince

do solicit you to marriage, you know your answer.

The revellers are entering, make you all good room.

(All put on their masks)

 

Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, DONNA JOANNA, BORACHIO, MARGARET and URSULA, all masked

 

DON PEDRO

(To Hero) 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 especially when I walk away.

 

DON PEDRO

With me in your company?

 

HERO

I may say so, when I please.

 

DON PEDRO

And when please you to say so?

 

HERO

When I like your favour; for God defend the lute

should be like the case!

 

DON PEDRO

My visor is Philemon’s roof; within the house is Jove.

 

HERO

Why, then, your visor should be thatched.

 

DON PEDRO

Speak low, if you speak love.

(Drawing her aside to talk)

 

BORACHIO

Well, I would you did like me.

 

MARGARET

So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many

ill-qualities.

 

BORACHIO

Which is one?

 

MARGARET

I say my prayers aloud.

 

BORACHIO

I love you the better: the hearers may cry, Amen.

 

MARGARET

God match me with a good dancer!

 

BORACHIO

Amen.

 

MARGARET

And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is

done! Answer, clerk.

 

BORACHIO

No more words: the clerk is answered.

 

Exit MARGARET and BORACHIO

 

URSULA

I know you well enough; you are Signior Leonato.

 

LEONATO

At a word, I am not.

 

URSULA

I know you by the waggling of your head.

 

LEONATO

To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

 

URSULA

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.

 

LEONATO

At a word, I am not.

 

 

URSULA

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.

 

(Don Pedro and Hero now approach and talk with Leonato)

 

BEATRICE

Will you not tell me who told you so?

 

BENEDICK

No, you shall pardon me.

 

BEATRICE

Nor will you not tell me who you are?

 

BENEDICK

Not now.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

(*the Decameron)

 

BENEDICK

What’s he?

 

BEATRICE

I am sure you know him well enough.

 

BENEDICK

Not I, believe me.

 

BEATRICE

Did he never make you laugh?

 

BENEDICK

I pray you, what is he?

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

BENEDICK

When I know the gentleman, I’ll tell him what you say.

 

BEATRICE

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)

We must follow the leaders.

 

BENEDICK

In every good thing.

 

BEATRICE

Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at

the next turning.

 

(Dance, in which Benedick is shown up by Beatrice.)

(Afterwards, Leonato talks to Beatrice; Beatrice goes to fetch Claudio)

 

BENEDICK

(To Don Pedro) 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

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?

 

DON PEDRO

None, but to desire your good company.

 

BENEDICK

O God, sir, here’s a dish I love not: I cannot

endure my Lady Tongue.

 

Exit BENEDICK

 

DON PEDRO

Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of

Signior Benedick.

 

BEATRICE

(Fetching Claudio)

Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; 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.

 

DON PEDRO

You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.

 

BEATRICE

So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I

should prove the mother of fools. Uncle, I have brought

Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.

 

LEONATO

Count, the Prince has wooed in thy name;

take of me my daughter, and with her my

fortunes: His grace hath made the match, and my

grace say Amen to it.

 

BEATRICE

Speak, count, ‘tis your cue.

 

CLAUDIO

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.

 

BEATRICE

Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth

with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

 

DON PEDRO

In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

CLAUDIO

And so she doth, cousin.

 

BEATRICE

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!

 

DON PEDRO

Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

DON PEDRO

Will you have me, lady?

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

DON PEDRO

Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best

becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in

a merry hour.

 

BEATRICE

No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there

was a star danced, and under that was I born.

(yawns) Cousins, God give you joy!

By your grace’s pardon.

 

Exit BEATRICE

 

DON PEDRO

By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.

 

LEONATO

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.

 

DON PEDRO

She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

 

LEONATO

O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit.

 

DON PEDRO

She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

 

LEONATO

O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married,

they would talk themselves mad.

 

DON PEDRO

Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church?

 

CLAUDIO

To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love

have all his rites.

 

LEONATO

Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just

seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all

things answer my mind.

 

DON PEDRO

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

shall give you direction.

 

LEONATO

My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten

nights’ watchings.

 

CLAUDIO

And I, my lord.

 

DON PEDRO

And you too, gentle Hero?

 

HERO

I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my

cousin to a good husband.

 

DON PEDRO

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

will 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: his glory shall be

ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me,

and I will tell you my drift.

 

Exeunt all except DONNA JOANNA
 

ACT II. SCENE II. LEONATO’S house.

Enter BORACHIO

 

DONNA JOANNA

It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the

daughter of Leonato.

 

BORACHIO

Yea, my lady; but I can cross it,

so covertly that no

dishonesty shall appear in me.

 

DONNA JOANNA

Show me briefly how.

 

BORACHIO

I think I told your ladyship a year since, how much

I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting

gentlewoman to Hero.

 

DONNA JOANNA

I remember.

 

BORACHIO

I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night,

appoint her to look out at her lady’s chamber window.

 

DONNA JOANNA

What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?

 

BORACHIO

The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to

the prince your brother; spare not to tell him that

he 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.

 

DONNA JOANNA

What proof shall I make of that?

 

BORACHIO

Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio,

to undo Hero and kill Leonato. Look you for any

other issue?

 

DONNA JOANNA

Only to despite them, I will endeavour any thing.

 

BORACHIO

Go, then; find a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and Claudio.

They will scarcely believe without trial; which shall

be no less than to see me at her chamber-window,

hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me

Borachio; and bring them to see this the very night

before 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.

 

DONNA JOANNA

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.

 

BORACHIO

Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning

shall not shame me.

 

DONNA JOANNA

I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT II. SCENE III. LEONATO’S House.

Enter BENEDICK

 

BENEDICK

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

such 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

words 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,

or 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.

(Hides)

 

Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO

(With concealed goblets and a bottle of wine)

 

DON PEDRO

Come, shall we hear this music?

 

LEONATO

Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,

As hush’d on purpose to grace harmony!

 

(They drink)

 

DON PEDRO

See you where Benedick hath hid himself?

 

CLAUDIO

O, very well, my lord: the music ended,

We’ll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.

 

DON PEDRO

(Song)

    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

Into 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, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into Hey nonny, nonny.

 

LEONATO

By my troth, a good song.

 

CLAUDIO

From an ill singer, my lord.

 

DON PEDRO

Ha, no, no, faith; I singest well enough.

 

BENEDICK

An he had been a dog that should have howled thus,

they would have hanged him!

 

DON PEDRO

Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of

to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with

Signior Benedick?

 

CLAUDIO

O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did

never think that lady would have loved any man.

 

LEONATO

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.

 

BENEDICK

Is’t possible? Sits the wind in that corner?

 

LEONATO

By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think

of it but that she loves him with an enraged

affection: it is past the infinite of thought.

 

DON PEDRO

May be she doth but counterfeit.

 

CLAUDIO

Faith, like enough.

 

LEONATO

O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of

passion came so near the life of passion as she

discovers it.

 

DON PEDRO

Why, what effects of passion shows she?

 

 

CLAUDIO

Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.

 

LEONATO

What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard

my daughter tell you how.

 

CLAUDIO

She did, indeed.

 

DON PEDRO

How, how, pray you?…You amaze me: I would have I

thought her spirit had been invincible against all

assaults of affection.

 

LEONATO

I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially

against Benedick.

 

DON PEDRO

Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?

 

LEONATO

No; and swears she never will: that’s her torment.

 

CLAUDIO

Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs,

beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; ‘O

sweet Benedick! God give me patience!’

 

LEONATO

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.

 

DON PEDRO

It were good that Benedick knew of it by some

other, if she will not discover it.

 

CLAUDIO

To what end? He would make but a sport of it and

torment the poor lady worse.

 

DON PEDRO

An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She’s an

excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion,

she is virtuous.

 

CLAUDIO

And she is exceeding wise.

 

DON PEDRO

In every thing but in loving Benedick.

 

LEONATO

I am sorry for her, as I have just

cause, being her uncle and her guardian.

 

DON PEDRO

I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear

what a’ will say.

 

 

LEONATO

Were it good, think you?

 

CLAUDIO

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.

 

DON PEDRO

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.

 

CLAUDIO

He is a very proper man.

 

DON PEDRO

He hath indeed a good outward happiness.

 

CLAUDIO

Before God! and, in my mind, very wise.

 

DON PEDRO

He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.

 

CLAUDIO

And valiant.

 

DON PEDRO

As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of

quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he

avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes

them with a most Christian-like fear.

 

CLAUDIO

Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with

good counsel.

 

LEONATO

Nay, that’s impossible: she may wear her heart out first.

 

DON PEDRO

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.

 

LEONATO

My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.

 

CLAUDIO

If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never

trust my expectation.

 

DON PEDRO

Let there be the same net spread for her; and that

must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry.

Let us send her to call him in to dinner.

 

Exeunt DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO

 

 

BENEDICK

(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:

they 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

horribly 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.

 

Enter BEATRICE

 

Here comes Beatrice. By this day!

she’s a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her.

 

BEATRICE

Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.

 

BENEDICK

Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

 

BEATRICE

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.

 

BENEDICK

You take pleasure then in the message?

 

BEATRICE

Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife’s

point. You have no stomach, signior: fare you well.

 

Exit BEATRICE

 

BENEDICK

Ha! ‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in

to dinner;’ there’s a double meaning in that. If I do

not take pity of her, I am a villain.

 

Exit

 

ACT III. SCENE I. LEONATO’S House.

Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA

 

HERO

Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor;

There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice

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,

To listen our purpose. This is thy office;

Bear thee well in it and leave us alone.

 

MARGARET

I’ll make her come, I warrant you, presently.

 

Exit

 

HERO

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:

My talk to thee must be how Benedick

Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter

Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made.

 

Enter BEATRICE, behind

 

Now begin;

For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs

Close by the ground, to hear our conference.

(Approaching the bower)

No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;

I know her spirits are as coy and wild

As haggerds of the rock.

 

URSULA

But are you sure

That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?

 

HERO

So says the prince and my new-trothed lord.

 

URSULA

And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?

 

HERO

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.

 

URSULA

Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman

Deserve as full as fortunate a bed

As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?

 

HERO

O god of love! I know he doth deserve

As 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.

 

URSULA

Sure, I think so;

And therefore certainly it were not good

She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.

 

HERO

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;

If 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.

 

URSULA

Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.

 

HERO

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.

Therefore 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.

 

URSULA

Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say.

 

HERO

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.

 

URSULA

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.

 

HERO

He is the only man of Italy.

Always excepted my dear Claudio.

 

URSULA

I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,

Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick,

For shape, for bearing, argument and valour,

Goes foremost in report through Italy.

 

HERO

Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.

 

 

URSULA

His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.

When are you married, madam?

 

HERO

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.

 

URSULA

She’s limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam.

 

HERO

If it proves so, then loving goes by haps:

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

 

Exeunt HERO and URSULA

 

BEATRICE

(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

Believe it better than reportingly.

 

Exit BEATRICE

 

ACT III. SCENE II. LEONATO’S House.

Enter DONNA JOANNA, DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO

 

DONNA JOANNA

My lord and brother, God save you!

 

DON PEDRO

Good den, sister.

 

DONNA JOANNA

If your leisure served, I would speak with you.

 

DON PEDRO

In private?

 

DONNA JOANNA

If it please you: yet Count Claudio may hear; for

what I would speak of concerns him.

 

DON PEDRO

What’s the matter?

 

DONNA JOANNA

(to CLAUDIO) Means your lordship to be married to-morrow?

 

DON PEDRO

You know he does.

 

DONNA JOANNA

I know not that, when he knows what I know.

 

 

CLAUDIO

If there be any impediment, I pray you discover it.

 

DONNA JOANNA

You may think I love you not: let that appear

hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will

manifest.

 

DON PEDRO

Why, what’s the matter?

 

DONNA JOANNA

I came hither to tell you;

the lady is disloyal.

 

CLAUDIO

Who, Hero?

Disloyal?

 

DONNA JOANNA

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.

Go but with me to-night, you shall

see her chamber-window entered, even the night

before her wedding-day: if you love her then,

to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour

to change your mind.

 

CLAUDIO

May this be so?

 

DON PEDRO

I will not think it.

 

DONNA JOANNA

If you dare not trust that you see, confess not

that you know: if you will follow me, I will show

you enough.

 

CLAUDIO

If I see any thing to-night why I should not marry

her to-morrow in the congregation,

then will I shame her.

 

DON PEDRO

And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join

with thee to disgrace her.

 

DONNA JOANNA

Let the issue show itself.

(They hide)

 

Enter BORACHIO and MARGARET

(Embracing passionately)

 

BORACHIO

Hero! Hero!

 

MARGARET

Borachio! Borachio!

 

Exit BORACHIO and MARGARET

 

DON PEDRO

O day untowardly turned!

 

CLAUDIO

O mischief strangely thwarting!

 

DONNA JOANNA

O plague right well prevented!

So will you say when you have seen the sequel.

 

Exit DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO
Exit DONNA JOANNA
 
ACT III. SCENE III. (Omitted.)

 

ACT III. SCENE IV. LEONATO’S House.

Enter HERO, MARGARET and URSULA

 

HERO

Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire

her to rise.

 

URSULA

I will, lady.

 

HERO

And bid her come hither.

 

URSULA

Well.

 

Exit URSULA

 

MARGARET

Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

 

HERO

No, pray thee, good Meg, I’ll wear this.

 

MARGARET

By my troth, ‘s not so good; and I warrant your

cousin will say so.

 

HERO

My cousin’s a fool, and thou art another: I’ll wear

none but this.

 

MARGARET

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.

 

HERO

O, that exceeds, they say.

 

MARGARET

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,

and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel:

but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent

fashion, yours is worth ten on ‘t.

 

HERO

God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is

exceeding heavy.

 

MARGARET

‘Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

 

HERO

Fie upon thee! Art not ashamed?

 

MARGARET

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

me 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.

 

Enter BEATRICE

 

HERO

Good morrow, cuz.

 

BEATRICE

Good morrow, sweet Hero.

 

HERO

Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

 

BEATRICE

I am out of all other tune, methinks.

‘Tis almost five o’clock, cousin; tis time you were

ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!

O, God help me!

 

MARGARET

Perchance you are in love?

Methinks you look with

your eyes as other women do.

 

BEATRICE

What pace is this thy tongue keeps?

 

MARGARET

Not a false gallop.

 

Re-enter URSULA

 

URSULA

Madam, withdraw: The prince, the count, Signior

Benedick, and all the gallants of the

town, are come to fetch you to church.

 

HERO

Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT III. SCENE V. (Omitted.)

 

 

ACT IV. SCENE I. A Church.

Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK and ABBESS FRANCIS

Enter LEONATO, HERO and BEATRICE

 

LEONATO

Come, Abbess Francis, be brief; only to the plain

form of marriage, and you shall recount their

particular duties afterwards.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.

 

CLAUDIO

No.

 

LEONATO

To be married to her: Abbess, you come to marry her.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.

 

HERO

I do.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

If either of you know any inward impediment why you

should not be conjoined, charge you, on your souls,

to utter it.

 

CLAUDIO

Know you any, Hero?

 

HERO

None, my lord.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Know you any, count?

 

LEONATO

I dare make his answer, none.

 

CLAUDIO

Stand thee by, Abbess. Father, by your leave:

Will you with free and unconstrained soul

Give me this maid, your daughter?

 

LEONATO

As freely, son, as God did give her me.

 

CLAUDIO

And what have I to give you back, whose worth

May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?

 

DON PEDRO

Nothing, unless you render her again.

 

CLAUDIO

Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.

There, Leonato, take her back again:

Give not this rotten orange to your friend;

She’s but the sign and semblance of her honour.

Behold how like a maid she blushes here!

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.

 

LEONATO

What do you mean, my lord?

 

CLAUDIO

Not to be married,

Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.

 

LEONATO

Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,

Have vanquish’d the resistance of her youth,

And made defeat of her virginity,--

 

CLAUDIO

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,

I never tempted her with word too large;

But, as a brother to his sister, show’d

Bashful sincerity and comely love.

 

HERO

And seem’d I ever otherwise to you?

 

CLAUDIO

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.

 

HERO

Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?

 

LEONATO

Sweet prince, why speak not you?

 

DON PEDRO

What should I speak?

I stand dishonour’d, that have gone about

To link my dear friend to a common stale.

 

LEONATO

Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?

 

DON PEDRO

Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.

 

BENEDICK

This looks not like a nuptial.

 

HERO

True! O God!

 

CLAUDIO

Leonato, stand I here?

Is this the prince?

Is this face Hero’s? Are our eyes our own?

 

LEONATO

All this is so: but what of this, my lord?

 

CLAUDIO

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.

 

LEONATO

I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.

 

HERO

O, God defend me! how am I beset!

What kind of catechising call you this?

 

CLAUDIO

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

I talk’d with no man at that hour, my lord.

 

DON PEDRO

Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,

I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour,

Myself, my sister 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.

 

CLAUDIO

O Hero!

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.

 

LEONATO

Hath no man’s dagger here a point for me?

 

(HERO swoons)

BEATRICE

Why, how now, cousin! wherefore sink you down?

 

DON PEDRO

Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light,

Smother her spirits up.

 

Exeunt DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO

 

BENEDICK

How doth the lady?

 

BEATRICE

Dead, I think. Help, uncle!

Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Abbess!

 

 

LEONATO

O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand.

Death is the fairest cover for her shame

That may be wish’d for.

 

BEATRICE

How now, cousin Hero!

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Have comfort, lady.

 

LEONATO

Dost thou look up?

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Yea, wherefore should she not?

 

LEONATO

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,

Myself 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?

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!

 

BENEDICK

Sir, sir, be patient.

For my part, I am so attired in wonder,

I know not what to say.

 

BEATRICE

O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!

 

BENEDICK

Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?

 

BEATRICE

No, truly not; although, until last night,

I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.

 

LEONATO

Confirm’d, confirm’d!

Would the good prince lie, and Claudio lie,

Who loved her so, that, speaking of her foulness,

Wash’d it with tears? Hence from her! let her die.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Hear me a little;

For I have only been silent so long

And given way unto this course of fortune.

By noting of the lady I have mark’d

A thousand blushing apparitions

To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames

In angel whiteness beat away those blushes;

And in her eye there hath appear’d a fire,

To burn the errors that these princes hold

Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;

Trust not my reading nor my observations,

Which with experimental seal doth warrant

The tenor of my book; trust not my age,

My reverence, calling, nor divinity,

If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here

Under some biting error.

 

LEONATO

Abbess, it cannot be.

Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left

Is that she will not add to her damnation

A sin of perjury; she not denies it:

Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse

That which appears in proper nakedness?

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Lady, what man is he you are accused of?

 

HERO

They know that do accuse me; I know none:

If I know more of any man alive

Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,

Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,

Prove you that any man with me conversed

Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

There is some strange misprision in the princes.

 

BENEDICK

Two of them have the very bent of honour;

And if their wisdoms be misled in this,

The practise of it lives in Donna Joanna,

Whose spirits toil in frame of villanies.

 

LEONATO

I know not. If they speak but truth of her,

These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honour,

The proudest of them shall well hear of it.

Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,

Nor age so eat up my invention,

Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,

Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,

But they shall find, awaked in such a kind,

Both strength of limb and policy of mind,

Ability in means and choice of friends,

To quit me of them throughly.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Pause awhile,

And let my counsel sway you in this case.

Your daughter here the princes left for dead:

Let her awhile be secretly kept in,

And publish it that she is dead indeed;

Maintain a mourning ostentation

And on your family’s old monument

Hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites

That appertain unto a burial.

 

LEONATO

What shall become of this? What will this do?

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf

Change slander to remorse; that is some good:

But not for that dream I on this strange course,

But on this travail look for greater birth.

She dying, as it must so be maintain’d,

Upon the instant that she was accused,

Shall be lamented, pitied and excused

Of every hearer: for it so falls out

That what we have we prize not to the worth

Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack’d and lost,

Why, then we rack the value, then we find

The virtue that possession would not show us

Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio:

When he shall hear she died upon his words,

The idea of her life shall sweetly creep

Into his study of imagination,

And every lovely organ of her life

Shall come apparell’d in more precious habit,

More moving-delicate and full of life,

Into the eye and prospect of his soul,

Than when she lived indeed; then shall he mourn,

If ever love had interest in his liver,

And wish he had not so accused her,

No, though he thought his accusation true.

Let this be so, and doubt not but success

Will fashion the event in better shape

Than I can lay it down in likelihood.

But if all aim but this be levell’d false,

The supposition of the lady’s death

Will quench the wonder of her infamy:

And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,

As best befits her wounded reputation,

In some reclusive and religious life,

Out of all eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.

 

BENEDICK

Signior Leonato, let the Abbess advise you:

And though you know my inwardness and love

Is very much unto the prince and Claudio,

Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this

As secretly and justly as your soul

Should with your body.

 

LEONATO

Being that I flow in grief,

The smallest twine may lead me.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

‘Tis well consented: presently away;

For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.

Come, lady, die to live: this wedding-day

Perhaps is but prolong’d: have patience and endure.

 

Exeunt except BENEDICK and BEATRICE

 

BENEDICK

Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

 

BEATRICE

Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

 

 

BENEDICK

I will not desire that.

 

BEATRICE

You have no reason; I do it freely.

 

BENEDICK

Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

 

BEATRICE

Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!

 

BENEDICK

Is there any way to show such friendship?

 

BEATRICE

A very even way, but no such friend.

 

BENEDICK

May a man do it?

 

BEATRICE

It is a man’s office, but not yours.

 

BENEDICK

I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is

not that strange?

 

BEATRICE

As strange as the thing I know not. It were as

possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as

you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I

confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.

 

BENEDICK

By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

 

BEATRICE

Do not swear, and eat it.

 

BENEDICK

I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make

him eat it that says I love not you.

 

BEATRICE

Will you not eat your word?

 

BENEDICK

With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest

I love thee.

 

BEATRICE

Why, then, God forgive me!

 

BENEDICK

What offence, sweet Beatrice?

 

BEATRICE

You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to

protest I loved you.

 

BENEDICK

And do it with all thy heart.

 

BEATRICE

I love you with so much of my heart that none is

left to protest.

 

BENEDICK

Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

 

BEATRICE

Kill Claudio.

 

BENEDICK

Ha! not for the wide world.

 

BEATRICE

You kill me to deny it. Farewell.

 

BENEDICK

Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

 

BEATRICE

I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in

you: nay, I pray you, let me go.

 

BENEDICK

Beatrice, -

 

BEATRICE

In faith, I will go.

 

BENEDICK

We’ll be friends first.

 

BEATRICE

You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.

 

BENEDICK

Is Claudio thine enemy?

 

BEATRICE

Is he not approved in the height a villain, that

hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?

O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they

come to take hands; and then, with public

accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour?

O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart

in the market-place.

 

BENEDICK

Hear me, Beatrice, -

 

BEATRICE

Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!

 

BENEDICK

Nay, but, Beatrice, -

 

BEATRICE

Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.

 

BENEDICK

Beat-

 

 

BEATRICE

O that I were a man for his sake! or that I

had any friend would be a man for my sake! But

manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into

compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and

trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules

that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a

man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

 

BENEDICK

Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.

 

BEATRICE

Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

 

BENEDICK

Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?

 

BEATRICE

Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.

 

BENEDICK

Enough. I am engaged. I will challenge him. I will

kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand,

Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you

hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your

cousin: I must say she is dead: and so, farewell.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT IV. SCENE II. (Omitted.)

 

ACT V. SCENE I. LEONATO’S house.

Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO, LEONATO

 

DON PEDRO

Good den, good den.

 

CLAUDIO

Good day to you.

 

LEONATO

Hear you. my lords, -

 

DON PEDRO

We have some haste, Leonato.

 

LEONATO

Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord:

Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.

 

DON PEDRO

Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.

 

LEONATO

Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou: -

Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword;

I fear thee not.

 

CLAUDIO

Marry, beshrew my hand,

If it should give your age such cause of fear:

In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.

 

LEONATO

Tush, tush, man; never fleer and jest at me:

I speak not like a dotard nor a fool,

As under privilege of age to brag

What I have done being young, or what would do

Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head,

Thou hast so wrong’d mine innocent child and me

That I am forced to lay my reverence by

And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days,

Do challenge thee to trial of a man.

I say thou hast belied mine innocent child;

Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,

And she lies buried with her ancestors;

O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,

Save this of hers, framed by thy villany!

 

CLAUDIO

My villany?

 

LEONATO

Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.

 

DON PEDRO

You say not right, old man.

 

LEONATO

My lord, my lord,

I’ll prove it on his body, if he dare,

Despite his nice fence and his active practise,

His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.

 

CLAUDIO

Away! I will not have to do with you.

 

LEONATO

Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill’d my child:

If thou kill’st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.

 

DON PEDRO

Gentle Leonato, My heart is sorry for your daughter’s death:

But, on my honour, she was charged with nothing

But what was true and very full of proof.

 

LEONATO

My lord, my lord, -

 

DON PEDRO

I will not hear you.

 

LEONATO

No? Come, then, away! I will be heard.

 

Exit LEONATO

Enter BENEDICK

 

DON PEDRO

See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

 

CLAUDIO

Now, signior, what news?

 

BENEDICK

Good day, my lord.

 

DON PEDRO

Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part

almost a fray.

 

CLAUDIO

We had like to have had our noses snapped off

with an old man without teeth.

 

DON PEDRO

Leonato. What thinkest thou? Had

we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for him.

 

BENEDICK

In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came

to seek you both.

 

DON PEDRO

As I am an honest man, he looks pale.

Art thou sick, or angry?

By this light I think he be angry indeed.

 

BENEDICK

(to CLAUDIO)

Shall I speak a word in your ear?

You are a villain; I jest not:

I will make it good how you dare, with what you

dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will

protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet

lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you.

Fare you well, boy: you know my mind. I will leave

you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests

as braggarts do their blades, which God be thanked,

hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank

you: I must discontinue your company: your sister

is fled from Messina: you have among

you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord

Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet: and, till

then, peace be with him.

 

Exit BENEDICK

 

DON PEDRO

He is in earnest.

 

CLAUDIO

In most profound earnest; and, I’ll warrant you, for

the love of Beatrice.

 

DON PEDRO

And hath challenged thee.

 

CLAUDIO

Most sincerely.

 

DON PEDRO

But, soft you, let me be: pluck up, my heart, and

be sad. Did he not say, my sister was fled?

 

Enter MARGARET and BORACHIO

 

(Margaret leads Borachio by the ear, a rolling pin in the other hand)

BORACHIO

Sweet prince, I have deceived even your very eyes:

What your wisdoms could not discover,

This shallow fool have brought to light…

(Margaret hits Borachio with the rolling pin)

…Who in the night overheard me confessing

how Donna Joanna your sister incensed me

to slander the Lady Hero, how you were brought into

the orchard and saw me court her in Hero’s

garments, how you disgraced Hero, when you should

marry her:

My villany you may have upon record; which

I had rather seal with my death than repeat over

to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my

mistress’ false accusation; and, briefly, I desire

nothing but the reward of a villain.

 

DON PEDRO

Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?

 

CLAUDIO

I have drunk poison whiles he utter’d it.

 

DON PEDRO

But did my sister set thee on to this?

 

BORACHIO

Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it.

 

DON PEDRO

She is composed and framed of treachery:

And fled she is upon this villany.

 

CLAUDIO

Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear

In the rare semblance that I loved it first.

 

Enter LEONATO

 

LEONATO

Which is the villain? let me see his eyes,

That, when I note another man like him,

I may avoid him: which is he?

 

BORACHIO

If you would know your wronger, look on me.

 

LEONATO

Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill’d

Mine innocent child?

 

BORACHIO

Yea, even I alone.

 

LEONATO

No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself:

Here stand a pair;

A third is fled, that had a hand in it.

I thank you, princes, for my daughter’s death:

Record it with your high and worthy deeds:

‘Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.

 

CLAUDIO

I know not how to pray your patience;

Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself;

Impose me to what penance your invention

Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn’d I not

But in mistaking.

 

DON PEDRO

By my soul, nor I:

And yet, to satisfy this good old man,

I would bend under any heavy weight

That he’ll enjoin me to.

 

LEONATO

I cannot bid you bid my daughter live;

That were impossible: but, I pray you both,

Possess the people in Messina here

How innocent she died; and if your love

Can labour ought in sad invention,

Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb

And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night:

To-morrow morning come you to my house,

And since you could not be my son-in-law,

Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,

And she alone is heir to both of us:

Give her the right you should have given her cousin,

And so dies my revenge.

 

CLAUDIO

O noble sir,

Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!

I do embrace your offer; and dispose

For henceforth of poor Claudio.

 

LEONATO

To-morrow then I will expect your coming;

To-night I take my leave.

This naughty man shall be brought.

And Margaret! Pack’d in all this wrong?

 

BORACHIO

No, by my soul, she was not,

Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,

But always hath been just and virtuous

In any thing that I do know by her.

 

LEONATO

Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.

 

DON PEDRO

We will not fail.

 

CLAUDIO

To-night I’ll mourn with Hero.

 

LEONATO

And we’ll talk, Margaret,

How your acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.

 

Exeunt, severally

 

ACT V. SCENE II. LEONATO’S House.

Enter BENEDICK and URSULA, meeting

 

BENEDICK

Pray thee, sweet Ursula, deserve well at

my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

 

URSULA

Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

 

BENEDICK

In so high a style that no man living

shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou

deservest it.

 

URSULA

To have no man come over me! why, shall I always

keep below stairs?

 

BENEDICK

Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound’s mouth; it catches.

 

URSULA

And yours as blunt as the fencer’s foils, which hit,

but hurt not.

 

BENEDICK

A most manly wit, Ursula; it will not hurt a

woman: and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give

thee the bucklers.

 

URSULA

Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.

Yet I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.

 

BENEDICK

And therefore will come.

 

Exit URSULA

 

(Singing badly)

    The god of love,

That sits above,

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve…

I mean in singing; but in loving, Leander the good

swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and

a whole bookful of these quondam carpet-mangers,

whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a

blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned

over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I

cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried: I can find

out no rhyme to ‘lady’ but ‘baby,’ an innocent

rhyme; for ‘scorn,’ ‘horn,’ a hard rhyme; for,

‘school,’ ‘fool,’ a babbling rhyme; very ominous

endings: no, I was not born under a rhyming planet,

nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

 

Enter BEATRICE

 

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?

 

BEATRICE

Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.

 

BENEDICK

O, stay but till then!

 

BEATRICE

‘Then’ is spoken; fare you well now: and yet, ere

I go, let me go with that I came; which is, with

knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.

 

BENEDICK

Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.

 

BEATRICE

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but

foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I

will depart unkissed.

 

BENEDICK

Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense,

so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee

plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either

I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe

him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me for

which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

 

BEATRICE

For them all together; which maintained so politic

a state of evil that they will not admit any good

part to intermingle with them. But for which of my

good parts did you first suffer love for me?

 

BENEDICK

Suffer love! a good epithet! I do suffer love

indeed, for I love thee against my will.

 

BEATRICE

In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart!

If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for

yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

 

BENEDICK

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

But tell me, how doth your cousin?

 

BEATRICE

Very ill.

 

BENEDICK

And how do you?

 

BEATRICE

Very ill too.

 

BENEDICK

Serve God, love me and mend. There will I leave

you too, for here comes one in haste.

 

Enter URSULA

 

URSULA

Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder’s old

coil at home: it is proved my Lady Hero hath been

falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily

abused; and Donna Joanna is the author of all, who is

fled and gone. Will you come presently?

 

BEATRICE

Will you go hear this news, signior?

 

 

 

BENEDICK

I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be

buried in thy eyes; and moreover I will go with

thee to thy uncle’s.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT V. SCENE III. A church.

Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO and ABBESS FRANCIS, with candles

 

CLAUDIO

Is this the monument?

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

It is, my lord.

 

CLAUDIO

(Reading from a scroll)

Done to death by slanderous tongues

Was the Hero that here lies:

Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,

Gives her fame which never dies.

So the life that died with shame

Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,

Praising her when I am dumb.

Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

 

DON PEDRO

(Song)

    Pardon, goddess of the night,

Those that slew thy virgin knight;

For the which, with songs of woe,

Round about her tomb they go.

    Midnight, assist our moan;

Help us to sigh and groan,

Heavily, heavily:

    Graves, yawn and yield your dead,

Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily.

 

CLAUDIO

Now, unto thy bones good night!

Yearly will I do this rite.

 

DON PEDRO

Good morrow, masters; put your torches out:

The wolves have prey’d; and look, the gentle day,

Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.

Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds;

And then to Leonato’s we will go.

 

Exeunt

 

ACT V. SCENE IV. LEONATO’S House.

Enter LEONATO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, HERO, MARGARET, URSULA and ABBESS FRANCIS

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

Did I not tell you she was innocent?

 

 

LEONATO

So are the prince and Claudio, who accused her

Upon the error that you heard debated:

But Margaret was in some fault for this,

Although against her will, as it appears

In the true course of all the question.

 

BENEDICK

Well, I am glad that all things sort so well,

being else by faith enforced

To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

 

LEONATO

Well, daughter, and you gentle-women all,

Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,

And when I send for you, come hither mask’d.

 

Exeunt Ladies

 

The prince and Claudio promised by this hour

To visit me. I must be father to my brother’s daughter

And give her to young Claudio.

 

BENEDICK

Abbess, I must entreat your pains, I think.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

To do what, signior?

 

BENEDICK

To bind me, or undo me; one of them.

Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,

Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.

 

LEONATO

That eye my daughter lent her: ‘tis most true.

 

BENEDICK

And I do with an eye of love requite her.

 

LEONATO

The sight whereof I think you had from me,

From Claudio and the prince: but what’s your will?

 

BENEDICK

Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:

But, for my will, my will is your good will

May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin’d

In the state of honourable marriage:

In which, good Abbess, I shall desire your help.

 

LEONATO

My heart is with your liking.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

And my help.

Here comes the prince and Claudio.

 

Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO

 

DON PEDRO

Good morrow to this fair assembly.

 

 

LEONATO

Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio:

We here attend you. Are you yet determined

To-day to marry with my brother’s daughter?

 

CLAUDIO

I’ll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.

 

LEONATO

I’ll call her forth; here’s the Abbess ready.

 

Exit LEONATO

 

DON PEDRO

Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what’s the matter,

That you have such a February face,

So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

 

Re-enter LEONATO, with the Ladies masked

 

CLAUDIO

Which is the lady I must seize upon?

 

LEONATO

This same is she, and I may give you her.

 

CLAUDIO

Why, then she’s mine. Sweet, let me see your face.

 

LEONATO

No, that you shall not, till you take her hand

Before this Abbess and swear to marry her.

 

CLAUDIO

Give me your hand: before this holy Abbess,

I am your husband, if you like of me.

 

HERO

And when I lived, I was your other wife

(Unmasking)

And when you loved, you were my other husband.

 

CLAUDIO

Another Hero!

 

HERO

Nothing certainer:

One Hero died defiled, but I do live,

And surely as I live, I am a maid.

 

DON PEDRO

The former Hero! Hero that is dead!

 

LEONATO

She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.

 

ABBESS FRANCIS

All this amazement can I qualify:

When after that the holy rites are ended,

I’ll tell you largely of fair Hero’s death:

Meantime let wonder seem familiar,

And to the chapel let us presently.

 

 

BENEDICK

Soft and fair, Abbess. Which is Beatrice?

 

BEATRICE

(Unmasking) I answer to that name. What is your will?

 

BENEDICK

Do not you love me?

 

BEATRICE

Why, no; no more than reason.

 

BENEDICK

Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio

Have been deceived; they swore you did.

 

BEATRICE

Do not you love me?

 

BENEDICK

Troth, no; no more than reason.

 

BEATRICE

Why, then my cousin, Margaret and Ursula

Are much deceived; for they did swear you did.

 

BENEDICK

They swore that you were almost sick for me.

 

BEATRICE

They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

 

BENEDICK

‘Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?

 

BEATRICE

No, truly, but in friendly recompense.

 

LEONATO

Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

 

CLAUDIO

And I’ll be sworn upon’t that he loves her;

For here’s a paper written in his hand,

A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,

Fashion’d to Beatrice.

 

HERO

And here’s another

Writ in my cousin’s hand, stolen from her pocket,

Containing her affection unto Benedick.

 

BENEDICK

A miracle! here’s our own hands against our hearts.

Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take

thee for pity.

 

BEATRICE

I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield

upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life,

for I was told you were in a consumption.

 

BENEDICK

Peace! I will stop your mouth.

(Kissing her)

 

DON PEDRO

How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

 

BENEDICK

I’ll tell thee what, prince; a college of

wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost

thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No:

if a man will be beaten with brains, a’ shall wear

nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do

purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any

purpose that the world can say against it; and

therefore never flout at me for what I have said

against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my

conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to

have beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my

kinsman, live unbruised and love my cousin.

Come, come, we are friends: let’s have a dance ere

we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts

and our wives’ heels.

 

LEONATO

We’ll have dancing afterward.

 

BENEDICK

First, of my word; therefore play, music. Prince,

thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife:

there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

 

DON PEDRO

Benedict, my sister Joanna is ta’en in flight,

She must be brought with armed men back to Messina.

 

BENEDICK

Think not on her till to-morrow:

I’ll devise brave punishments for her.

Strike up, players.

 

(Music, Dance)

 

Exeunt

 

(Curtain Call)