Claud. Yea, my good lord;-How still the As bush'd on purpose to grace harmony! Claud. O very well, my lord: the music We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth. Enter BALTHAZAR, with music. D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice, To slander music any more than once. D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit D. Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come : 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. Claud. 'Faith, like enough. Leon, O God! counterfeit ! There never was counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she discovers it. D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she? Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. [Aside. Leon. What effects, my lord! She will sit you, You heard my daughter tell you bow. 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: kuavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en the infection: hold it [Aside. up. D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known Balth. Note this before my notes, There's not a note of mine that's worth the to Benedick? noting. D. Pedro. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks Note, notes, forsooth, and noting! [Music. Bene. Now, Divine air! now is his soul ravished Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies !-Well, a horu for my money, when all's done. BALTHAZAR Sings. Balth. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore; 26 one thing constant never: Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blith and bonny; Converting all your sounds of woe Into, Hey nonny, nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no mo Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leavy. Then sigh not so, &c. D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. Balth. And an ill singer, my lord. D. Pedro. Ha? no; no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. Bene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog, that should have howled thus, they would have hanged 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; [To CLAUDIO.]-Dost thou hear, Balthazar! I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we ould have it at the lady Hero's chamberindow. Balth. The best I can, my lord. D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt BALHAZAR and music.] 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 she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor. Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner ? [Aside. Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell Leon. No; and swears she never will; that's her torment. Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: Shall 1, 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 in her smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper :-my daughter tells us all. Cland. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. Leon. 01-When she had writ it, and wa reading it over, she found Benedick and B rice between the sheet ? Claud. That. Leon. Oh! she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to 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, 8obs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses;- O sweet Benedick! God give me patience! Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstacy + hath so much overborne her, that my daughter is sometime afraid that 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 she 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. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory. 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 all other respects, and made ber 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 Bevond the power of thought to conceive. 1 Thrown off. 1 Alienation of mind. 782 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. D. Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for nim 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. She shall be buried with her face Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Cland. 'Tis even so: Hero and Margaret have Enter Don JOHN. D. John. My lord and brother, God save you. D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak with you. D. Pedro. In private ? D. John. 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 to-morrow? [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 iş 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 chamberwindow entered, even the night before her wed ding-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 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 ! [Exeunt.] Act III. SCENE III.-A Street. Enter DOG BERRY and VERGES, with the Dogb. Are you good men and true? Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good Dogberry. man to be constable ? 1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, Sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read. hath blessed you with a good name: to be a wellDogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. God favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. 2 Watch. Both which, master constable,-Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your anthanks, and make no boast of it: and for your swer. Well, for your favour, Sir, why, give God is no need of such vanity. writing and reading, let that appear when there here to be the most senseless and fit man for the Your are thought lantern: This is your charge; You shall compreconstable of the watch; therefore bear you the bend all vagrom men: you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's naine. 2 Watch. How if he will not stand? Dogb. Why then, take no note of him, but let him go and presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you are rid of a kuave. Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects. Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with make no noise in the streets; for, for the watch none but the prince's subjects:-You shall also to babble and tk, is most tolerable and not to be endured. know what belongs to a watch. Dogb. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman; for I cannot see how your bills be not stolen :-Well, you are to call sleeping should offend: only, have a care that at all the ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. 2 Watch. How if they will not? Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are sober; if they make you not then the better anthem for. swer, you may say, they are not the men you took 2 Watch. Well, Sir. him, by virtue of your office, to be no true man; Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may suspect and, for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honesty. 2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay bands on him? Dogb. Truly, by your office you may; but I most peaceable way for you, if you take a thief, think, they that touch pitch will be defiled: the is, to let him show himself what he is, and steal out of your company. Verg. You have been always called a merciful will; much more a man who hath any honesty must call to the nurse, and bid her still it. Dogb. Why then, depart in peace, and let the • Weapons of the watchmen Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, constable, are to present the prince's own person; if you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him. Verg. Nay by'r lady, that, I think, he can not. Dogb. Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not without the prince be willing: for, indeed, the watch ought to offend no mau; and it is an offence to stay a man against his will. Verg. By'r lady, I think, it be so. Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me keep your fellows' counsels and your own, and good night.-Come, neighbour. 2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed. Dogb. One word more, honest neighbours : I pray you, watch about signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being there to-morrow, there is a great coil to-night: Adieu, be vigitant, I beseech you. [Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES. Bora. Conrade, I say! tale vilely :-I should first tell thee, how the prince, Claudio, and my master, planted, and placed, and possessed by my master Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable eucounter. Con. And thought they, Margaret was Hero ? Bora. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm auy slander that 1on John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore he would meet ber as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shaine her with what he saw over-night, and send her home again without a husband. 1 Watch. We charge you in the prince's name, stand. 2 Watch. Call up the right master constable : We have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the cominonwealth. 1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock. Con. Masters, masters. 2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed [Aside. forth, I warrant you. Con. Here, man, I am at thy elbow. Bora. Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought, there would a scab follow. Con. I will owe thee an answer for that; and now forward with thy tale. Bora. Stand thee close then under this penthouse, for it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee. Watch. [Aside.] Some treason, masters; yet stand close. Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats. Con. Is it possible that any villany should be so dear? Bora. Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possible any villany should be so rich; for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will. Con. I wonder at it. Bora. That shows thou art unconfirmed: * Bora. I mean, the fashion. Con. Yes, the fashion is the fashion. Bora. Tush! I may as well say, the fool's the fool. But sce'st thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is ? Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven year; he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name. Dora. Didst thou not hear somebody? Con. No; 'twas the vaue on the house. Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods, between fourteen and five and thirty? sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers in the reechy painting; sometime, like god Bel's priests in the old church window; sometime, like the shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry,where the codpiece seems as massy as his club? Con. Masters, I Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us obey you to go with us. Bora. We are like to prove a goodly cominodity, being taken up of these men's bills. Con. A commodity in question, I warrant yon. Come, we'll obey you. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Room in LEONATO's House. Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA. Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise. Urs. I will, my lady. Hero. Oh! that exceeds, they say. Marg. By my troth, it's but a night-gown in respect of your's: Cloth of gold, and cuts, and laced with silver; set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a blueish tinsel: but for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent fashion, your's is worth ten on't. Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy! Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of a man. Hero. Fie upon thee! art not ashamed? Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourCon. All this I see and see that the fashionably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar ? wears out more apparel than the mau: But art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion? Is Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think, you would have me say, saving your reverence,-a husband: an bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend nobody: there any harm in-the heavier for a husband? None, I think, an it be the right husband, and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not heavy: Ask my lady Beatrice else, here she comes. A kind of ruff. 1 Soiled. ↑ Head-dress. 1 Long-sleeves. Enter BEATRICE. Hero. Good morrow, coz. Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero. the matter: an old man, Sir, and not so blunt, as, God help, I would were; but, in faith, honest, as the Hero. Why, how now! do you speak in the his brows. sick tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. Marg. Clap us into-Light o' love; that goes without burden; do you sing it, and I'll dance it. Beat. Yea, Light o' love, with your heels!— then if your husband have stables enough, you'll see be shall lack no barus. Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels. Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, consin; 'tis time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill-hey bo! Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband? Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H. Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, no more sailing by the star. Beat. What means the fool, trow? Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire! Hero. These gloves the count sent me, they are an excellent perfume. Beat. I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell. Marg. A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold. Beat. O God help me! God help me! how long have you profess'd apprehension? Marg. Ever since you left it: doth not my wit become me rarely? Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap.-By my troth, I am sick. Marg. Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm. Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thistle. Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in this Benedictus. Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love nay, by'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list; nor I list not to think what 1 can; nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging and how you may be converted, I know not, but methinks, you look with your eyes as other women de. Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps ? Marg. Not a false gallop. his wits are desire they skin between Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no honester than I. Dogb. Comparisons are odorous: palabra, neighbour Verges. Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious. Dogb. It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor duke's officers: but, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. Leon. All thy tediousness on me! ha! Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis; for I hear as good exclamation on your worship, as of any man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it. ing your worship's presence, have ta'en a couple Verg. Marry, Sir, our watch to-night, except of as arrant knaves as any in Messina. ing; as they say, When the age is in, the wit Dogb. A good old man, Sir; he will be talkis out; God help us! it is a world to see! — Verges-well, Well said, 'faith, neighbour God's a good man; an two m n ride of a horse, one must ride behind :-An honest soul, i'faith, Sir; by my troth he is, as ever broke bread: but, God is to be worshipped: All men are not alike; alas, good neighbour ! Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you. Dogb. Gifts that God gives. Dogb. One word, Sir: our watch, Sir, have, indeed, comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship. Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto yon. Dogh. It shall be suffigance. Leon. Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well. Enter a MESSENGER. Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband. Leon. I will wait upon them; I am ready. [Exeunt LEONATO and MESSENGER, Dogb. Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the gaol; we are now to examination these Leon. To be married to her, friar; you come to marry her. Friar. Lady, you come hither to be married to this count? Hero. I do. Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, I charge you, on your souls, to utter it. Claud. Know you any, Hero ? Friar. Know you any, count? Leon, I dare make his answer, none. Claud. Oh! what men dare do! what men may do what men daily do not knowing what they do! Bene. How now! Interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as ba! ha! be? Claud. Stand thee by, friar ;-Father, Will you with free and unconstrained soul by Behold, how like a maid she blushes here: Leon. What do you mean, my lord? Not knit my soul to an approved wanton. Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth, Claud. I know what you would say; If 1 have known her, You'll say, she did embrace me as a husband, I never tempted her with word too large; + Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you? against it: You seem to me as Dian in her orb ; Hero. Is my lord well that he doth speak so wide ? + Leon. Sweet prince, why speak not you? I stand dishonour'd, that bave gone about dream? D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. Bene. This looks not like a nuptial. Claud. Leonato, stand I here? Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother? Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own? D. Pedro. Why, then are you no maiden.- I am sorry you must hear; Upon mine honour, D. John. Fie, fle! they are Not to be nam'd, my lord, not to be spoke of; There is not chastity enough in language, Without offence, to utter them: Thus, pretty lady, I am sorry for thy much misgovernment. Wherefore ? earthly thing Why, doth not every Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, Too free of tongue. Disposition of things. 1 Attractive. |