Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever he was. Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight:3 and my uncle's SCENE I-Before Leonato's house. Enter Leonato, Hero, Beatrice, and others, with a Mes-fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, senger. Leonato. 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 pro I LEARN in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arra-mised to eat all of his killing. gon, comes this night to Messina. Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him. Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man, he Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiev-hath an excellent stomach. er brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio. Mess. And a good soldier too, lady. Beat. And a good soldier to a lady ;—But what is he to a lord? Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne him-with all honourable virtues. self beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, in-man :5 but for the stuffing,-Well, we are all mortal. deed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how. Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it. Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness. Leon. Did he break out into tears? Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping? Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army of any sort. Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece? Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua. Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them. Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature.-Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother. Mess. Is it possible? Beat. Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.6 Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No: an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no (1) Kind. (2) Abundance. (3) At long lengths. (4) Even. (5) A cuckold. (6) Mould for a hat. young squarer! now, that will make a voyage with him to the devil? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. Beat. 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 he be cured. Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady. Leon. You will never run mad, niece. Enter Don Pedro, attended by Balthazar, and heartily prays some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart. Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.-Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. D. John. I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you. Leon. Please it your grace lead on? D. Pedro. Your hand, Leonato; we will go to gether. [Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio. Claud. Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato? Bene. I noted her not; but I looked on her. Claud. Is she not a modest young lady? Bene. Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex? Claud. No, I pray thee, speak in sober judg Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for trouble being gone, com-ment. fort should remain; but, when you depart from me, Bene. Why, i'faith, methinks she is too low for a sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too litD. Pedro. You embrace your charge2 too willing-tle for a great praise: only this commendation I can ly. I think, this is your daughter. Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so. Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child. D. Pedro. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself:-Be happy, lady! for you are like an honourable father. Bene. If signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders, for all Messina, as like him as she is. Beat. I wonder, that you will still be talking, signior Benedick; no body marks you. Bene. What, my dear lady Disdain! are you yet living? afford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. Claud. Thou thinkest, I am in sport; I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her? Bene. Would you buy her, that you inquire after her? Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel? Bene. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting jack; to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song? Claud. In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on. Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see Beat. Is it possible, disdain should die, while no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not she hath such meet food to feed it, as signior Bene-possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in dick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if beauty, as the first of May doth the last of Decemyou come in her presence. ber. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband; have you?" Bene. Then is courtesy a turn-coat :-But it is certain, I am loved of all fadies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none. Beat. A dear happiness to women; they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God, and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that; I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me. Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face. Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of yours. Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer: But keep your way o' God's name; I have done. Beat. You always end with a jade's trick; I know you of old. D. Pedro. This 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 (2) Trust. (1) Quarrelsome fellow. Claud. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. Bene. Is it come to this, i'faith? Hath not the world one man, but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i'faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Look, Don Pedro is returned to seek you. Re-enter Don Pedro. D. Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's? Bene. I would, your grace would constrain him to tell. D. Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance. Bene. You hear, count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man, I would have you think so; but on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance.— He is in love. With who?-now that is your grace's part.--Mark, how short his answer is :--With Hero, Leonato's short daughter. Claud. If this were so, so were it uttered. Bene. Like the old tale, my lord: it is not so, nor 'twas not so; but, indeed, God forbid it should be so. Claud. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise. D. Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady very well worthy. Claud. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. D. Pedro. By my troth, I speak my thought. Claud. And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine. Bene. And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine. Claud. That I love her, I feel. D. Pedro. That she is worthy, I know. Bene. That I neither feel how she should be loved, nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me; I will die in it at the stake. D. Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty. Claud. And never could maintain his part, but in the force of his will. O, my lord, Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; D. Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently, that she brought me up, I likewise give her most And tire the hearer with a book of words: humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat! If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it; winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle2 in an And I will break with her, and with her father, invisible baldric,3 all women shall pardon me. Be-And thou shalt have her: Was't not to this end, cause 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. D. Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale|I with love. Bene. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love: prove, that ever. more blood with love, than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a balladmaker's pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house, for the sign of blind Cupid. D. Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. That thou began'st to twist so fine a story? The fairest grant is the necessity: Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and D. Pedro. Well, as time shall try: Bene. 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. Claud. If this should ever happen, thou would'st be horn-mad. D. Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. Bene. I look for an earthquake too then. D. Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the mean time, good signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's; commend me to him, and tell him, I will not fail him at supper; for, indeed, he hath made great preparation. Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit youClaud. To the tuition of God: From my house (if I had it) D. Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not: The body of your discourse is sometime guardeds 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 Bene. Claud. My liege, your highness now may do me good. (1) The tune sounded to call off the dogs. (2) Hunting-horn. (3) Girdle. [Exeunt. Leon. How now, brother? where is my cousin, your son? Hath he provided this music? Ant. He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamed Leon. Are they good? not of. Ant. 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. Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this? and question him yourself. Ant. A good sharp fellow : I will send for him, it Leon. No, no; we will hold it as a dream, till withal, that she may be the better prepared for an appears itself:-but I will acquaint my daughter 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.-0, f cry you mercy, friend; you go with me, and I (4) The name of a famous archer. (5) Trimmed. (6) Once for all. (7) Thickly interwoven. will use your skill:-Good cousins, have a care this busy time. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Another room in Leonato's house. Enter Don John and Conrade. Con. What the goujere, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad? D. John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit. Con. You should hear reason. D. John. And when I have heard it, what blessing bringeth it? Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance. D. John. I wonder that thou being (as thou say'st thou art) born under Saturn, goest about to 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 a stomach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy, and tend to no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and claw2 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 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. D. John. I had rather be a canker3 in a hedge, than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all, than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied that I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle, and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking in the mean time, let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me. Con. Can you make no use of your discontent? D. John. I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? What news, Borachio? Enter Borachio. 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. D. 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 1-A hall in Leonato's house. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, and others. Leon. Was not count John here at supper? Ant. I saw him not. Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him, but I am heart-burned an hour after. Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition. Beat. He were an excellent man, that were made just in the mid-way between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image, and says nothing; and the other, too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling. Leon. Then half signior Benedick's tongue in count John's mouth, and half count John's melancholy in signior Benedick's face,— Beat. With a good leg, and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world,-if he could get her good will. Leon. By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. Ant. In faith, she is too curst. Bent. 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 upon a husband, that hath Bora. I came yonder from a great supper; the prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leo-no beard. nato; and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. D. John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool, that betroths himself to unquietness? Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. D. John. A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. D. John. A very forward March chick! came you to this? How Bora. Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in hand, in sad4 conference: I whipt me behind the arras; and there heard it agreed upon, that the prince should woo Hero for himself, and having obtained her, give her to count Claudio. D. John. Come, come, let us thither; this may prove food to my displeasure: that young start-up (2) Flatter. (1) The venereal disease. | Beat. What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard, is more than a youth; and he that hath no beard, is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less than a man, I am not for him. Therefore, I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bear-herd, and lead his apes into hell. Leon. Well then, go you into hell?" Beat. No; but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say, Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids: so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. Ant. Well, niece, [To Hero.] I trust, you will be ruled by your father. Beat. Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make courtesy, and say, Father, as it please you :-but vet for all that, cousin, let him be a hand-ome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, Fa ther, as it please me. Leon. Well, niece, I hope to see you one day Go to, mum, you are he: graces will appear, and fitted with a husband. there's an end. Beat. Not till God make men of some other metai 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 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, 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 into his grave.. Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle: can see a church by day-light. Leon. The revellers are entering; brother, make good room. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar : Don John, Borachio, Margaret, Ursula, and others, masked. D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend 2 Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; and espeI cially, when I walk away. D. Pedro. With me in your company? D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your favour: for God defend, the lute should be like the case! D. Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. 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 4 slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his vi1lany; for he both pleaseth 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 himn 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's wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. [Music within.] We must follow the leaders. Bene. In every good thing. them at the next turning. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave [Dance. Then exeunt all but Don John Borachio, and Clandio, D. 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.6 D. John. Are not you signior Benedick? D. 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? Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd. I 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! Marg. And God keep him out of my sight, Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head. Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him. Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man: Here's his dry hand up and down; you are he, you are he. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. Come, come; do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? (2) Lover. (5) Accosted. (1) Importunate. (4) Incredible. (3) Forbid. D. John. Come, let us to the banquet. [Exeunt Don John and Borachio, And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Bene. Count Claudio? Bene. Come, will you go with me? Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like a usurer's (7) Passion. (6) Carriage, demeanour. |