Scene 2. Another room in LEONATO'S house.
[Enter DON JOHN and BORACHIO.]
DON JOHN.
It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato.
BORACHIO.
Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.
DON JOHN.
Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me: I am
sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection
ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?
BORACHIO.
Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear
in me.
DON JOHN.
Show me briefly how.
BORACHIO.
I think I told your lordship, a year since, how much I am in the
favour of Margaret, the waiting-gentlewoman to Hero.
DON JOHN.
I remember.
BORACHIO.
I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look
out at her lady's chamber window.
DON JOHN.
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.
DON JOHN.
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?
DON JOHN.
Only to despite them, I will endeavour anything.
BORACHIO.
Go then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio
alone: tell them that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of
zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as--in love of your brother's
honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, who is
thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid,--that you have
discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial: offer
them instances, which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at
her chamber-window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me
Claudio; and bring them to see this the very night 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.
DON JOHN.
Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice.
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.
DON JOHN.
I will presently go learn their day of marriage.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 3.--LEONATO'S Garden.
[Enter Benedick.]
BENEDICK.
Boy!
[Enter a Boy.]
BOY.
Signior?
BENEDICK.
In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the
orchard.
BOY.
I am here already, sir.
BENEDICK.
I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again.
[Exit Boy.]
I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool
when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed
at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own
scorn by falling 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 tabor and the pipe: I have known when he would have
walked ten mile afoot 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.
[Withdraws.]
[Enter DON PEDRO, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO, followed by BALTHAZAR and
Musicians.]
DON PEDRO.
Come, shall we hear this music?
CLAUDIO.
Yea, my good lord.
How still the evening is,
As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
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 penny-worth.
DON PEDRO.
Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again.
BALTHAZAR.
O! good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander music any more than once.
DON PEDRO.
It is the witness still of excellency,
To put a strange face on his own perfection.
I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Much Ado About Nothing (9)
Scene I. A hall in LEONATO'S house. (CONT'D)
LEONATO.
Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his
Grace hath made the match, and all 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. Cousins, God give you joy!
LEONATO.
Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE.
I cry you mercy, uncle. By your Grace's pardon.
[Exit.]
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.]
LEONATO.
Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his
Grace hath made the match, and all 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. Cousins, God give you joy!
LEONATO.
Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE.
I cry you mercy, uncle. By your Grace's pardon.
[Exit.]
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.]
Much Ado About Nothing (8)
Scene I. A hall in LEONATO'S house. (CONT'D)
LEONATO.
Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his
Grace hath made the match, and all 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. Cousins, God give you joy!
LEONATO.
Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE.
I cry you mercy, uncle. By your Grace's pardon.
[Exit.]
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.]
LEONATO.
Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his
Grace hath made the match, and all 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. Cousins, God give you joy!
LEONATO.
Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE.
I cry you mercy, uncle. By your Grace's pardon.
[Exit.]
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.]
Much Ado About Nothing (7)
Scene I. A hall in LEONATO'S house. (CONT'D)
MARGARET.
God match me with a good dancer!
BALTHAZAR.
Amen.
MARGARET.
And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done! Answer,
clerk.
BALTHAZAR.
No more words: the clerk is answered.
URSULA.
I know you well enough: you are Signior Antonio.
ANTONIO.
At a word, I am not.
URSULA.
I know you by the waggling of your head.
ANTONIO.
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.
ANTONIO.
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.
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.
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 within.] 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. Then exeunt all but DON JOHN, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO.]
DON JOHN.
Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father
to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but one visor
remains.
BORACHIO.
And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing.
DON JOHN.
Are you not Signior Benedick?
CLAUDIO.
You know me well; I am he.
DON JOHN.
Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamoured
on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her; she is no equal for his
birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it.
CLAUDIO.
How know you he loves her?
DON JOHN.
I heard him swear his affection.
BORACHIO.
So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night.
DON JOHN.
Come, let us to the banquet.
[Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO.]
CLAUDIO.
Thus answer I in name of Benedick,
But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself.
Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
herefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!
[Re-enter Benedick.]
BENEDICK.
Count Claudio?
CLAUDIO.
Yea, the same.
BENEDICK.
Come, will you go with me?
CLAUDIO.
Whither?
BENEDICK.
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 lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way,
for the prince hath got your Hero.
CLAUDIO.
I wish him joy of her.
BENEDICK.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they sell bullocks.
But did you think the prince would have served you thus?
CLAUDIO.
I pray you, leave me.
BENEDICK.
Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole
your meat, and you'll beat the post.
CLAUDIO.
If it will not be, I'll leave you.
[Exit.]
BENEDICK.
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 though
bitter disposition of Beatrice that puts the world into her person,
and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.
[Re-enter Don Pedro.]
DON PEDRO.
Now, signior, where's the count? Did you see him?
MARGARET.
God match me with a good dancer!
BALTHAZAR.
Amen.
MARGARET.
And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done! Answer,
clerk.
BALTHAZAR.
No more words: the clerk is answered.
URSULA.
I know you well enough: you are Signior Antonio.
ANTONIO.
At a word, I am not.
URSULA.
I know you by the waggling of your head.
ANTONIO.
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.
ANTONIO.
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.
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.
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 within.] 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. Then exeunt all but DON JOHN, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO.]
DON JOHN.
Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father
to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but one visor
remains.
BORACHIO.
And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing.
DON JOHN.
Are you not Signior Benedick?
CLAUDIO.
You know me well; I am he.
DON JOHN.
Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamoured
on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her; she is no equal for his
birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it.
CLAUDIO.
How know you he loves her?
DON JOHN.
I heard him swear his affection.
BORACHIO.
So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night.
DON JOHN.
Come, let us to the banquet.
[Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO.]
CLAUDIO.
Thus answer I in name of Benedick,
But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself.
Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
herefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!
[Re-enter Benedick.]
BENEDICK.
Count Claudio?
CLAUDIO.
Yea, the same.
BENEDICK.
Come, will you go with me?
CLAUDIO.
Whither?
BENEDICK.
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 lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way,
for the prince hath got your Hero.
CLAUDIO.
I wish him joy of her.
BENEDICK.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they sell bullocks.
But did you think the prince would have served you thus?
CLAUDIO.
I pray you, leave me.
BENEDICK.
Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole
your meat, and you'll beat the post.
CLAUDIO.
If it will not be, I'll leave you.
[Exit.]
BENEDICK.
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 though
bitter disposition of Beatrice that puts the world into her person,
and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.
[Re-enter Don Pedro.]
DON PEDRO.
Now, signior, where's the count? Did you see him?
Much Ado about Nothing (6)
ACT 2.
Scene I. A hall in LEONATO'S house.
[Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and Others.]
LEONATO.
Was not Count John here at supper?
ANTONIO.
I saw him not.
BEATRICE.
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.
BEATRICE.
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.
LEONATO.
Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half
Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,--
BEATRICE.
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 ifa' could get her good
will.
LEONATO.
By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be
so shrewd of thy tongue.
ANTONIO.
In faith, she's too curst.
BEATRICE.
Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen 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.
LEONATO.
So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns?
BEATRICE.
Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him
upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord! I could not endure a
husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.
LEONATO.
You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
BEATRICE.
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-ward, and
lead his apes into hell.
LEONATO.
Well then, go you into hell?
BEATRICE.
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.
ANTONIO.
[To Hero.] Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.
BEATRICE.
Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say,
'Father, as it please you:'-- but yet for all that, cousin, let him
be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy, and say,
'Father, as it please me.'
LEONATO.
Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE.
Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not
grieve a woman to be over-mastered with a piece of valiant dust? to
make an 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 kinred.
LEONATO.
Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you
in that kind, you know your answer.
BEATRICE.
The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good
time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in
everything, and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing,
wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-
pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as
fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state
and ancientry; and then comes Repentance, and with his bad legs, falls
into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
LEONATO.
Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
BEATRICE.
I have a good eye, uncle: I can see a church by daylight.
LEONATO.
The revellers are entering, brother: make good room.
[Enter, DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR, DON JOHN,
BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA, and Others, masked.]
DON 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 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 thatch'd.
DON PEDRO.
Speak low, if you speak love.
[Takes her aside.]
BALTHAZAR.
Well, I would you did like me.
MARGARET.
So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill qualities.
BALTHAZAR.
Which is one?
MARGARET.
I say my prayers aloud.
BALTHAZAR.
I love you the better; the hearers may cry Amen.
Scene I. A hall in LEONATO'S house.
[Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and Others.]
LEONATO.
Was not Count John here at supper?
ANTONIO.
I saw him not.
BEATRICE.
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.
BEATRICE.
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.
LEONATO.
Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half
Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,--
BEATRICE.
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 ifa' could get her good
will.
LEONATO.
By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be
so shrewd of thy tongue.
ANTONIO.
In faith, she's too curst.
BEATRICE.
Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen 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.
LEONATO.
So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns?
BEATRICE.
Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him
upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord! I could not endure a
husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.
LEONATO.
You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
BEATRICE.
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-ward, and
lead his apes into hell.
LEONATO.
Well then, go you into hell?
BEATRICE.
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.
ANTONIO.
[To Hero.] Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.
BEATRICE.
Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say,
'Father, as it please you:'-- but yet for all that, cousin, let him
be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy, and say,
'Father, as it please me.'
LEONATO.
Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE.
Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not
grieve a woman to be over-mastered with a piece of valiant dust? to
make an 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 kinred.
LEONATO.
Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you
in that kind, you know your answer.
BEATRICE.
The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good
time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in
everything, and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing,
wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-
pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as
fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state
and ancientry; and then comes Repentance, and with his bad legs, falls
into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
LEONATO.
Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
BEATRICE.
I have a good eye, uncle: I can see a church by daylight.
LEONATO.
The revellers are entering, brother: make good room.
[Enter, DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR, DON JOHN,
BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA, and Others, masked.]
DON 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 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 thatch'd.
DON PEDRO.
Speak low, if you speak love.
[Takes her aside.]
BALTHAZAR.
Well, I would you did like me.
MARGARET.
So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill qualities.
BALTHAZAR.
Which is one?
MARGARET.
I say my prayers aloud.
BALTHAZAR.
I love you the better; the hearers may cry Amen.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Much Ado About Nothing (5)
Scene III. --Another room in LEONATO'S house.]
[Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE.]
CONRADE.
What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad?
DON JOHN.
There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore the sadness
is without limit.
CONRADE.
You should hear reason.
DON JOHN.
And when I have heard it, what blessings brings it?
CONRADE.
If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
DON JOHN.
I wonder that thou, being, -as thou say'st thou art,--born under
Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief.
I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at
no man's jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure;
sleep when I am drowsy, and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am
merry, and claw no man in his humour.
CONRADE.
Yea; but you must not make the full show of this till you may do it
without controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother,
and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you
should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself:
it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest.
DON 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 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, and seek not to alter me.
CONRADE.
Can you make no use of your discontent?
DON JOHN.
I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here?
[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.
DON JOHN.
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.
DON JOHN.
Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
BORACHIO.
Even he.
DON JOHN.
A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he?
BORACHIO.
Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
DON JOHN.
A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
BORACHIO.
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.
DON JOHN.
Come, come; let us thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. That
young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him
any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
CONRADE.
To the death, my lord.
DON JOHN.
Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am
subdued. Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go to prove what's
to be done?
BORACHIO.
We'll wait upon your lordship.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE.]
CONRADE.
What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad?
DON JOHN.
There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore the sadness
is without limit.
CONRADE.
You should hear reason.
DON JOHN.
And when I have heard it, what blessings brings it?
CONRADE.
If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
DON JOHN.
I wonder that thou, being, -as thou say'st thou art,--born under
Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief.
I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at
no man's jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure;
sleep when I am drowsy, and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am
merry, and claw no man in his humour.
CONRADE.
Yea; but you must not make the full show of this till you may do it
without controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother,
and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you
should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself:
it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest.
DON 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 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, and seek not to alter me.
CONRADE.
Can you make no use of your discontent?
DON JOHN.
I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here?
[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.
DON JOHN.
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.
DON JOHN.
Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
BORACHIO.
Even he.
DON JOHN.
A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he?
BORACHIO.
Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
DON JOHN.
A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
BORACHIO.
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.
DON JOHN.
Come, come; let us thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. That
young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him
any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
CONRADE.
To the death, my lord.
DON JOHN.
Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am
subdued. Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go to prove what's
to be done?
BORACHIO.
We'll wait upon your lordship.
[Exeunt.]
Much Ado About Nothing (4)
Scene I. Before LEONATO'S House. (CONT'D)
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.
DON PEDRO.
Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable
argument.
BENEDICK.
If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and he that
hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and called Adam.
DON PEDRO.
Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.'
BENEDICK.
The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck
off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead; and let me be vilely
painted, and in such great letters as they write, 'Here is good horse
to hire,' let them signify under my sign 'Here you may see Benedick
the married man.'
CLAUDIO.
If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
DON PEDRO.
Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake
for this shortly.
BENEDICK.
I look for an earthquake too then.
DON 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.
BENEDICK.
I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I
commit you--
CLAUDIO.
To the tuition of God: from my house, if I had it,--
DON PEDRO.
The sixth of July: your loving friend, Benedick.
BENEDICK.
Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded
with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience: and so I leave
you.
[Exit.]
CLAUDIO.
My liege, your highness now may do me good.
DON PEDRO.
My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
hard lesson that may do thee good.
CLAUDIO.
Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
DON PEDRO.
No child but Hero;s he's his only heir.
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
CLAUDIO.
O! my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I looked upon her with a soldier's eye,
That lik'd, 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 lik'd 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 break with her, and with her father,
And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
CLAUDIO.
How sweetly you do minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salv'd it with a longer treatise.
DON PEDRO.
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
The fairest grant is the necessity.
Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lov'st,
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know we shall have revelling to-night:
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio;
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then, after to her father will I break;
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
In practice let us put it presently.
[Exeunt.]
Scene II. --A room in LEONATO'S house.
[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting.]
LEONATO.
How now, brother! Where is my cousin your son? Hath he provided
this music?
ANTONIO.
He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange
news that you yet dreamt not of.
LEONATO.
Are they good?
ANTONIO.
As the event stamps them: but they have a good cover; they show well
outward. The prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley
in my orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the prince
discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece your daughter and meant to
acknowledge it this night in a dance; and if he found her accordant, he
meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you
of it.
LEONATO.
Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
ANTONIO.
A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and question him
yourself.
LEONATO.
No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear itself: but I will
acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for
an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you, and tell her of it.
[Several persons cross the stage.]
Cousins, you know what you have to do. O!I cry you mercy, friend; go
you with me, and I will use your skill. Good cousin, have a care this
busy time.
[Exeunt.]
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.
DON PEDRO.
Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable
argument.
BENEDICK.
If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and he that
hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and called Adam.
DON PEDRO.
Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.'
BENEDICK.
The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck
off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead; and let me be vilely
painted, and in such great letters as they write, 'Here is good horse
to hire,' let them signify under my sign 'Here you may see Benedick
the married man.'
CLAUDIO.
If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
DON PEDRO.
Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake
for this shortly.
BENEDICK.
I look for an earthquake too then.
DON 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.
BENEDICK.
I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I
commit you--
CLAUDIO.
To the tuition of God: from my house, if I had it,--
DON PEDRO.
The sixth of July: your loving friend, Benedick.
BENEDICK.
Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded
with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience: and so I leave
you.
[Exit.]
CLAUDIO.
My liege, your highness now may do me good.
DON PEDRO.
My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
hard lesson that may do thee good.
CLAUDIO.
Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
DON PEDRO.
No child but Hero;s he's his only heir.
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
CLAUDIO.
O! my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I looked upon her with a soldier's eye,
That lik'd, 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 lik'd 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 break with her, and with her father,
And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
CLAUDIO.
How sweetly you do minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salv'd it with a longer treatise.
DON PEDRO.
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
The fairest grant is the necessity.
Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lov'st,
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know we shall have revelling to-night:
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio;
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then, after to her father will I break;
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
In practice let us put it presently.
[Exeunt.]
Scene II. --A room in LEONATO'S house.
[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting.]
LEONATO.
How now, brother! Where is my cousin your son? Hath he provided
this music?
ANTONIO.
He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange
news that you yet dreamt not of.
LEONATO.
Are they good?
ANTONIO.
As the event stamps them: but they have a good cover; they show well
outward. The prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley
in my orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the prince
discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece your daughter and meant to
acknowledge it this night in a dance; and if he found her accordant, he
meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you
of it.
LEONATO.
Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
ANTONIO.
A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and question him
yourself.
LEONATO.
No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear itself: but I will
acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for
an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you, and tell her of it.
[Several persons cross the stage.]
Cousins, you know what you have to do. O!I cry you mercy, friend; go
you with me, and I will use your skill. Good cousin, have a care this
busy time.
[Exeunt.]
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