MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. apon record; which I had rather seal with my Runs not this speech like iron Bera. fit But did my brother set thee on Yea, and paid me richly for the practice D. Pedro. He is composed and framed of And fled he is upon this villany. appear Is the rare semblance that I loved it first. Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by 260 this time our sexton hath reformed Signior Leotats of the matter; and, masters, do not forget to perify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass. Verz. Here, here comes master Signior Leosate, and the sexton too. Es-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the Sexton. 270 Leen. Which is the villain? let me see his eyes, If you would know your wronger, Leon. Art thou the slave that with thy breath Mine innocent child? Bora. Yea, even I alone. Leen. No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself: Here stand a pair of honourable men; you A third is fled, that had a hand in it. bat in mistaking. D. 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. Leon. 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 290 And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night: Dog. Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, bered in his punishment. And also, the watch did call me ass: I beseech you, let it be rememheard them talk of one Deformed: they say he and borrows money in God's name, the which he wears a key in his ear and a lock hanging by it, hath used so long and never paid that now men sake: pray you, examine him upon that point. grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing for God's Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dog. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains. Deg. God save the foundation! Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee. ship; which I beseech your worship to correct Dog. I leave an arrant knave with your worworship! I wish your worship well; God restore yourself, for the example of others. God keep your you to health! I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour. [Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords: we look for you SCENE II. LEONATO's garden. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting. Bene. Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice. Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty? Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou deservest it. Marg. To have no man come over me! why, shall I always keep below stairs? Give her the right you should have given her mouth; it catches. Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not. Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret; it will That sits above, shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps. Beat. And how long is that, think you? Bene. Question: why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in rheum: therefore is it most expedient for the wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy: and now tell me, how doth your [Exit Margaret. cousin? And knows me, and knows me, 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-mongers, 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. 41 Enter BEATRICE. Beat. Very ill. 91 Bene. Serve God, love me and mend. There will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste. Enter URSULA. Urs. 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 Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone. Will you come presently? Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior? Bene. 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. SCENE III. A church. Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and three or four thee? Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell with tapers. Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato? A Lord. It is, my lord. Claud. [Reading out of a scroll] Done to death by slanderous tongues Gives her fame which never dies. thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. 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? 61 Beat. 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? Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will. Beat. 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. Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours. If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he SCENE IV. A room in LEONATO's house. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, MARGARET, URSULA, FRIAR FRANCIS, and HERO. Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Upon the error that you heard debated: Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforced To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, 10 And got a calf in that same noble feat Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked. Which is the lady I must seize upon? Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face. Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand Before this friar and swear to marry her. Claud. Give me your hand: before this holy friar, I am your husband, if you like of me. wife : Hero. Nothing certainer: D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived. 70 Friar. 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. Bene. Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice? Beat. [Unmasking] I answer to that name. What is your will? Bene. Do not you love me? Beat. Why, no; no more than reason. Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this 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. 90 Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity. Beat. 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. Bene. Peace! I will stop your mouth. [Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man? 100 Bene. 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 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. Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a doubledealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. Bene. 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. 121 Leon. We'll have dancing afterward. Bene. 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. Enter a Messenger. Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: I'll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers. [Dance. 131 [Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE I. The king of Navarre's park. Enter FERDINAND, king of NAVARRE, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs And then grace us in the disgrace of death; And make us heirs of all eternity. ΙΟ Therefore, brave conquerors,-for so you are, The mind shall banquet, though the body pine: Biron. I can but say their protestation over; COSTARD, a clown. MOTH, page to Armado. A Forester. The PRINCESS of France. ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, ladies attending on the Princess. JAQUENETTA, a country wench. Lords, Attendants, &c. SCENE: Navarre. Which I hope well is not enrolled there; King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: 50 60 King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on, then; I will swear to study so, To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus, to study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid: Or study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid; Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath, Study to break it and not break my troth. If study's gain be thus and this be so, Study knows that which yet it doth not know: Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no. King These be the stops that hinder study quite 70 And train our intellects to vain delight. Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain: To seek the light of truth; while truth the while |