Ant. A good sharp fellow: I will send for him, and question him yourself. Leon. No, no: we will hold it as a dream, till it 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. SCENE III.-Another Room in LEONATO's House. Enter JOHN and CONRADE. a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle, Con. Can you make no use of your discontent? Bora. I came yonder from a great supper: the prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can give you intelligence of an intended Con. What the good year, my lord! why are you marriage. thus out of measure sad? John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it,1 therefore the sadness is without limit. Con. You should hear reason. John. And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it? Con. If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance. 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. Con. Yea; but you must not make the full show of this, till you may do it without controlment. You have, till2 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. 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 John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. John. A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. John. A very forward March-chick ! How came you to this? Bora. Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty-room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference: I whipt me behind the arras, and there heard it agreed upon, that the prince should woo Hero for himself, and having obtained her, give her to count Claudio. 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? Con. To the death, my lord. 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 prove what's to be done? Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-A Hall in LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others. Leon. Was not count John here at supper? Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition. Leon. Then, half signior Benedick's tongue in count John's mouth, and half count John's melancholy in signior Benedick's face,— Beat. With a good leg, and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world,—if a' could get her good will. Leon. By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. 1 Not in f. e. 2 This word not in f. e. 3 Only in quarto. Ant. In faith, she's too curst. Beat. 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. Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns? Beat. Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing, I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord! I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen. Leon. You may light on a husband that hath no beard. Beat. What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and 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. Leon. Well then, go you into hell? Beat. No; but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say, "Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids:" so, deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens : he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. Ant. Well, niece, I trust, you will be ruled by your father. [To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make courtesy, and say, "Father, as it please you:" but yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, "Father, as it please me." Leon. Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. Beat. Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. Beat. The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time: if the prince be too important,1 tell him, there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer: for, hear me, Hero; wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly, modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink a-pace2 into his grave. Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle: I can see a church by day-light. Leon. The revellers are entering, brother. Make good room! Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHAZAR; JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA, and maskers. D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend ? Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; and, especially, when I walk away. D. Pedro. With me in your company? Hero. I may say so, when I please. D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend, the lute should be like the case! D. Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.3 Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatched. have many ill qualities. Bene. Which is one? Marg. I say my prayers aloud. Bene. I love you the better; the hearers may cry Amen. Marg. God match me with a good dancer! Urs. 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. Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so? Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are? Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the "Hundred merry Tales.”—Well, this was signior Benedick that said so. Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure, you know him well enough. Beat. Did he never make you laugh? Beat. Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villainy, 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! Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. Beat. Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not marked, or not 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. Bene. In every good thing. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Dance. Then, exeunt all but JOHN, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO. John. Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her, and but one visor remains. Bora. And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing. John. Are not you signior Benedick? 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. Claud. How know you he loves her? John. I heard him swear his affection. Bora. So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night. John. Come, let us to the banquet. [Exeunt JOHN and BORACHIO. Claud. Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain so :-the prince woos for himself. 1 Importunate. 2 This word not in f. e. 3 An allusion to the story of Baucis and Philemon, in Ovid. 4 A popular jest-book, of which only a fragment is extant. It was reprinted in 1835, after its discovery. Friendship is constant in all other things, Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; And trust no agent, for beauty is a witch, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, then', Hero! Bene. Count Claudio? Bene. Come, will you go with me? 2 Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, county. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like an usurer's chain, or under your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I wish him joy of her. Bene. Why, that's spoken like an honest drover: so they sell bullocks. But did you think, the prince would have served you thus? Claud. I pray you, leave me. me. with such importable conveyance, upon me, that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at She speaks poignards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all that Adam had lent' him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her; you shall find her the infernal Até in good apparel. I would to God, some scholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither, so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. Enter CLAUDIO, BEATRICE, HERO, and LEONATO. D. Pedro. Look, here she comes. Bene. Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me on: I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's foot; fetch you a hair of the great Cham's [Angrily.3 | beard; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather Bene. Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 't was than hold three words' conference with this harpy. the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. Have you no employment for me? Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. [Exit. Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowl! Now will he creep into sedges. -But, that my lady Beatrice should know ine, 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. D. Pedro. Now, signior, where's the count? Did you see him? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren: I told him, and, I think, I told him true, that your grace had got the good will of this young lady; and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped. 5 D. Pedro. To be whipped! What's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a school-boy; who, being overjoy'd with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer. Bene. Yet it had not been amiss. The rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have bestow'd on you, who, as I take it, have stolen his bird's nest. D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner. Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. D. Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the gentleman, that danced with her, told her she is much wrong'd by you. Bene. O! she misused me past the endurance of a block: an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life, and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester; that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest, D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot endure my lady Tongue. [Exit. D. Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of signior Benedick. Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me 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. D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady; you have put him down. Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. D. Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are you sad? Claud. Not sad, my lord. D. Pedro. How then? Sick? Beat. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil, count, civil as an orange, and something of as jealous a complexion. D. Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and, his good will obtained, name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy! Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it! Beat. Speak, count, 't is your cue. Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much.-Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak neither. D. Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care.-My cousin tells him in his ear, that he is in her heart. 2 A gold chain, a common ornament of the wealthy. 3 Not in f. e. 8 The old copies have "off.” 9 of that jealous complexion in f. e. 4 5 From the quarto. 6 impossible: in Claud. And so she doth, cousin. Beat. Good lord! for alliance thus goes every one to the world' but I, and I am sun-burned: I may sit in a corner, and cry, heigh ho! for a husband. D. Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady? Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days: your grace is too costly to wear every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me; I was born to speak all mirth, and no matter. D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.Cousins, God give you joy! SCENE II.-Another Room in LEONATO's House. Enter JOHN and BORACHIO. John. It is so: the count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato. Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. 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? Bora. Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. John. Show me briefly how. Bora. I think, I told your lordship, a year since, how much I am in the favor of Margaret, the waiting-gentlewoman to Hero. John. I remember. Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber-window. John. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage? Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle.-By your grace's Bora. The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go pardon. [Exit BEATRICE. you to the prince, your brother: spare not to tell him, D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the reLeon. There's little of the melancholy element in her.nowned Claudio (whose estimation do you mightily hold my lord: she is never sad, but when she sleeps; and up) to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero. not ever sad then, for I have heard my daughter say, John. What proof shall I make of that? she hath often dreamed of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing. D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. Leon. O! by no means, she mocks all her wooers out of suit. D. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. Leon. O lord! my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad. D. Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? Claud. To-morrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches, till love have all his rites. Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all things answer our2 mind. D. 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. Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' watching. Claud. And I, my lord. D. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero? Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. D. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him he is of a noble strain3, 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. Bora. Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue? John. Only to despite them I will endeavour any thing. Bora. 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 Borachio; and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding: for in the mean time I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appear such seeming proofs of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be called assurance, and all the preparation overthrown. 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. Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-LEONATO's Garden. Bene. Boy! Boy. Signior. Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the orchard. Boy. I am here already, sir. Bene. I know that; [Exit Boy.] but I would have thee hence, and here again. 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 [Exeunt. laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the 1 i. e., gets married. 2 In f. e. my; some eds. read "answer mind." 3 Lineage. 4 Claudio: in f. e. 5 truth: in f. e. 6 with a Boy: in f.e. 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 turn'd orthographer: 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. [Retires behind the trees1. Enter Don PEDRO, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO. D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music? Claud. Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony! D. Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Claud. O, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the hid2-fox with a penny-worth. Enter BALTHAZAR, with Musicians.3 D.Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again. D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing; D. Pedro.. Do it in notes. The frauds of men were ever so, D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. D. Pedro. Ha? no, no: faith, thou singest well enough for a shift. Bene. [Behind.]' An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hang'd him; and, I pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. D. Pedro. Yea, marry; dost thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us some excellent music, for to-morrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamber window. Balth. The best I can, my lord. D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt BALTHAZAR and Musicians.] Come hither, Leonato: what was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick? Claud. [Aside to Pedro.] O! ay :-stalk on, stalk on ; the fowl sits. [Aloud.] I did never think that ladý would have loved any man. Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor. Bene. [Behind.] Is 't possible? Sits the wind in that corner ? Leon. 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. D. Pedro. May be, she doth but counterfeit. Leon. O God! counterfeit? There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she discovers it. D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she? Claud. [Aside.] Bait the hook well: this fish will bite. Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you,— you heard my daughter tell you how. Claud. She did, indeed. D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you! You amaze me: I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord,; especially against Benedick. 9 Bene. [Behind.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence. Claud. [Aside.] He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up. D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? Leon. No, and swears she never will: that's her torment. Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall I," says she, "that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him ?" Leon. This says she, now, when she is beginning to write to him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper full.10-My daughter tells us all. Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. Leon. O!-when she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheets ? Claud. That. 1 Withdraws: in f. e. 2 kid in f. e. 3 with Music : in f. e. 4 Aside : in f. e. 5 Of: in f. e. 6 fraud of men was: in f. e. 7 8 9 Aside: in f. e. 10 Not in f. e. |