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, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad. D. Pedro. Count 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 my 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 as- | sistance as I shall give you direction. Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' watchings. 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 strain 4, 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 5 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. SCENE II. [Exeunt. Another Room in Leonato's House. Enter Don JOHN and BORACHIO. D. John. It is so; the count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato. Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. D. 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? the renowned Claudio (whose estimation do you mightily hold up) to a contaminated person, such a one as Hero. D. John. What proof shall I make of that? Bora. Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato: Look you for any other issue? D. 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 6 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 truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be call'd assurance, and all the preparation overthrown. D. 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. D. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage. [Exeunt. it hither to me in the orchard. Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring Boy. I am here already, sir. Bene. 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 musick with him but the drum and 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 Bora. Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights that no dishonesty shall appear in me. 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 6 Pretend. I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it pleases. Ha! the prince and monsieur love! I will hide me in the arbour. [Withdraws. Enter Don PEDRO, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO. D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this musick? 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? Dost D. Pedro. Yea, marry; [To CLAUDIO.] thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us some excellent musick; 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 musick.] Come hither, Leonato: What was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick? Claud. O, ay; Stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. [Aside to PEDRO.] I did never think that lady would have loved any man. Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom Claud. O, very well, my lord: the musick ended, she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth. Enter BALTHAZAR with musick. D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice To slander musick any more than once. D. 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. Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing: Since many a wooer doth commence his suit To her he thinks not worthy; yet he wooes; Yet will he swear, he loves. D. Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come : Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Balth. Note this before my notes, There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. D. Pedro. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks; Note, notes, forsooth, and noting! [Musick. Bene. Now, Divine air! now is his soul ravish'd! Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all's done. BALTHAZAR sings. I. BALTH. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, One foot in sea, and one on shore; Sing no more ditties, sing no mo7 D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. Rene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog, that should have howled thus, they would have hanged bim; and, I pray heaven, his bad voice bode no mischief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. 7 More. abhor. Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? 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. Bene. [Aside.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en the infection; hold it up. [Aside. 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 encounter'd 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 till she have writ a sheet of paper: — - my daughter tells us all. Then will she tear the letter into a thousand half-pence; rail at herself, that she should write to one that she knew would flout her: I measure him, says she, by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should. Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, and cries, O sweet Benedick! Leon. She doth, indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her, that my daughter is sometime afraid she will do a desperate outrage to herself: It is very true. D. Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. Claud. To what end? He would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse. D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang him: She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. Claud. And she is exceeding wise. D. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. Leon. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage on me; I would have daff'd 8 all other respects, and made her half myself: I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will say. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks surely, she will die: for she says, she will die if he love her not; and she will die ere she makes her love known; and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. D. Pedro. She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptuous spirit. matter; that's the scene that I would see, which BENEDICK advances from the Arbour. Bene. This can be no trick: The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. — I did never think to marry: I must not seem proud: Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending. They say, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth I can bear them witness and virtuous; - 'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me: By my troth, it is no addition to her wit; -nor no great argument of her folly, for D. Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward hap- I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance piness. have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marD. Pedro. He doth, indeed, show some sparks riage: But doth not the appetite alter? A man Claud. He is a very proper man. Claud. And in my mind, very wise. that are like wit Leon. And I take him to be valiant. D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God. Well, I am sorry for your niece: Shall we go see Benedick, and tell him of her love? Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it out with good counsel. Leon. Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her heart out first. D. Pedro. Well, we'll hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. [Aside. D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her; and that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age: Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice : By this day, she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her. Enter BEATRICE. - Beat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you take pains to thank me; if it had been painful I would not have come. Bene. You take pleasure in the message? Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choke a daw withal:- You have no stomach, signior; fare you well. [Exit. Bene. Ha! Against my will, I am sent to bid you come to dinner - there's a double meaning in that, I took no more pains for those thanks, than you took pains to thank me- that's as much as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks: - If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go get her picture. [Exit. As we do trace this alley up and down, Enter BEATRICE, behind. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Fear you not my part of the dialogue. Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly : Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour, Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose Goes foremost in report through Italy. nothing -- Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it. Urs. Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deserve All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Urs. Sure, I think so; Hero. Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw man, Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. 2 A species of hawks. Hero. Indeed he hath an excellent good name. to-morrow: Come her, madam. Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. [Exeunt HERO and URSULA. BEATRICE advances. Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? [Exit. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and D. Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then I go toward Arragon. Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me. D. Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage, as to show a child his new coat, and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring, and the little hangman dare not shoot at him he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks. Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been. D. Pedro. Hang him, truant; there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love: if he be sad, he wants money. Bene. I have the tooth-ach. Bene. Hang it! Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards. D. Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach? Leon. Where is but a humour, or a worm? Bene. Well, every one can master a grief, but he that has it. Claud. Yet say I, he is in love. D. Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises; as, to be a Dutchman to-day; a Frenchman to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once. Unless he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is. Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing old signs: he brushes his hat o' mornings; What should that bode? D. Pedro. Hath any man seen him at the barber's? Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him; and the old ornament of his check hath already stuffed tennis-balls. Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the loss of a beard. D. Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet: Can you smell him out by that? Claud. That's as much as to say, The sweet youth's in love. D. Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy. Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face? D. Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear what they say of him. Claud. Nay, but his jesting spirit; which is now crept into a lutestring, and now governed by stops. D. Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: Conclude, conclude, he is in love. Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him. D. Pedro. That would I know too; I warrant, one that knows him not. Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of all, dies for him. D. Pedro. In private? D. Pedro. If it please you ;- yet count Claudio may hear; for what I would speak of, concerns him. D. Pedro. What's the matter? D. John. Means your lordship to be married tomorrow? [TO CLAUDIO. D. Pedro. You know, he does. D. John. I know not that, when he knows what I know. Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, discover it. D. John. You may think I love you not; let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifest: For my brother, I think he holds you well; and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your ensuing marriage: surely, suit ill spent, and labour ill bestowed! D. Pedro. Why, what's the matter? D. John. I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances shortened, (for she hath been too long a talking of,) the lady is disloyal. Claud. Who? Hero? D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero. Claud. Disloyal? D. John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant: go but with me to-night, you shall see her chamber-window entered; even the night before her wedding-day: if you love her then, to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind. Claud. May this be so? D. Pedro. I will not think it. D. John. If you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you know if you will follow me, I will show you enough; and when you have seen more and heard more, proceed accordingly. Claud. If I see any thing to night why I should not marry her to-morrow; in the congregation, where I should wed, there will I shame her. D. Pedro. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to disgrace her. D. John. I will disparage her no farther, till you are my witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the issue show itself. D. Pedro. O day untowardly turned ! Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting! D. John. O plague right well prevented! So will you say, when you have seen the sequel. [Exeunt. Enter DOGBERRY and VERGES, with the Watch. Dogb. Are you good men, and true? Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation. Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch. Verg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry. Dogb. First, who think you the most disheartless man to be constable? 1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read. Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. Heaven hath blessed you with a good name: to be a wellfavoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. swer. 2 Watch. Both which, master constable, Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your anWell, for your favour, sir, make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern: This is your charge; You shall comprehend all vagrom men'; you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's name. 2 Watch. How, if he will not stand? |