At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour; Leon. I know not; If they speak but truth of her, These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honour, The proudest of them shall well hear of it. Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Friar. Pause a while, And let my counsel sway you in this case. Your daughter here the princes left for dead; Let her awhile be secretly kept in, And publish it that she is dead indeed : Maintain a mourning ostentation; And on your family's old monument Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites Leon. What shall become of this? What will this do? Friar. Marry, this, well carried, shall on her behalf Change slander to remorse; that is some good: And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while? Beat. Yea, and I will weep awhile longer. Beat. You have no reason, I do it freely. Bene. Surely, I do believe your fair cousin is wrong'd. Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her! Bene. Is there any way to show such friendship? Beat. A very even way, but no such friend.. Bene. May a man do it? Beat. It is a man's office, but not your's. Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you; Is not that strange? Beat. As strange as the thing I know, not: It were as possible for me to say, I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing:-I am sorry for my cousin. Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. Bene, I will swear by it, that you love me; and I will make him eat it, that says, I love not you. Beat. Will you not eat your word? Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it: I protest, I love thee. Beat. Why then, God forgive me! Bene. What offence, sweet Beatrice? Beat. You have staid me in a happy hour; I was about to protest I loved you. Bene. And do it with all thy heart. Beat. I love you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest. Bene. Come, bid me do any thing for thee. Beat. Kill Claudio. Bene. Ha! not for the wide world. Beat. You kill me to deny it: Farewell. Bene. Tarry, sweet Beatrice. Beat. I am gone, though I am here;-There is no love in you:-Nay, I pray you, let me go. Bene. Beatrice, Beat. In faith, I will go. Bene. We'll be friends first. Beat. You dare easier be friends with me, than fight with mine enemy. Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy? Beat. Is he not approved in the height a sillain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?-0, that 1 were a man!-What! bear her in hand until they come to take hands; and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,-O God, that I were a man Than when she liv'd indeed :-then shall he mourn, I would eat his heart in the market-place. (If ever love had interest in his liver,) Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you : Leon. Being that I flow in grief, The smallest twine may lead me. Friar. "Tis well consented; presently away; For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure. Come, lady, die to live this wedding day, Perhaps, is but prolong'd; have patience, and endure. [Exeunt Friar, Hero, and Leonato. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice ; Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ?—a proper saying. Bene. Nay but, Beatrice ; Beat. Sweet Hero! she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone. Bene. Beat Beat. Princes, and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count-confect; a sweet gallant, surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and swears it I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman 31 with grieving. Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice: By this hand, I love thee. Beat. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it. Bene. Think you in your soul the count Claudio hath wronged Hero? Beat. Yea, as sure as I have a thought, or a soul. Bene. Enough, I am engaged, I will challenge him; I will kiss your hand, and so leave you: By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account: As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your cousin: I must say, she is dead; and so, Enter Dogberry, Verges, and Sexton, in gowns; and Serton. But which are the offenders that are to be Bora. Borachio. Dogb. Pray write down-Borachio. sirrah? Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade. Yours, SCENE I. Before Leonato's House Dogb. Write down-master gentleman Conrade. Con. Bora. Yea, sir, we hope. Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none. Bora. Sir, I say to you, we are none. Dogb. Well, stand aside.-Fore God, they are both in a tale: Have you writ down-that they are none? › Sexton. Master constable, you go not the way to examine; you must call forth the watch that are their accusers. Dogb. Yea, marry, that's the eftest way :-Let the watch come forth-Masters, I charge you, in the prince's name, accuse these men. 1 Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's brother, was a villain. Dogb. Write down-prince John a villain :-Why this is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother-villain." Bora, Master constable, Leon. I pray thee, cease thy counsel, groan; Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk Dogb. Pray thee, fellow, peace; I do not like thy But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency, look, I promise thee. Sexton. What heard you him say else? 2 Watch, Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of Don John, for accusing the lady Hero wrongfully. Dogb. Flat burglary, as ever was committed. Serton. What else, fellow? 1 Watch. And that count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her. Dogb. O villain! thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this. Sexton. What else? 2 Watch This is all. To be so moral, when he shall endure Enter Don Pedro and Claudio. Good day to both of you. Are you so hasty now ?-well, all is one. [man. Claud Who wrongs him? I fear thee not. Marry, beshrew my hand, What I have done being young, or what would do, I say, thou hast belied mine innocent child; And she lyes buried with her ancestors: Leon. If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.. Ant. He shall kill two of us, and men indeed; But that's no matter; let him kill one first;Win me and wear me,-let him answer me,Come follow me, boy; come, boy, follow me: Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence; Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will. Leon. Brother, Ant. Content yourself: God knows, I lov'd my And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains; Leon. Ant. Hold you content: What, man! I know them, yea, D. Pedro. Leonato and his brother: What think'st thou? Had we fought, I doubt, we should have been too young for them. Bene. In a false quarrel there is no true valour: I came to seek you both Claud. We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away: Wilt thou use thy wit? Bene. It is in my scabbard; Shall I draw it ? D. Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? Claud. Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit.-I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us. D. Pedro. As I am an honest man, he looks pale-Art thou sick, or angry? Claud. What! courage, man! What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care. Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an you charge it against me:-I pray you choose another subject. Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last was broke cross. D. Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more; I think, he be angry indeed. Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle. Bene. Shall I speak a word in your ear? Bene. You are a villain;-I jest not-I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare:-Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you: Let me hear from you. Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer. D. Pedro. What, a feast? a feast ? Claud. I'faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's head and a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, say, my knife's naught.-Shall I not find a woodcock too? Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily. D. Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the other day: I said, thou hadst a fine wit; True, says she, a fine little one: No, said I, a great wit; Right, says she, a great gross one: Nay, said I, Brother Antony,a good wit; Just, said she, it hurts no body: Nay, said I, the gentleman is wise; Certain, said she, a wise gentleman: Nay, said I, he hath the tongues; That I believe, said she, for he swore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue; there's two tongues. Thus did she, an hour together, transshape thy particular virtues; yet, at last, she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy." And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple: Leon. But, brother Antony,- Come, 'tis no matter; D. Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake My heart is sorry for your daughter's death; Leon. I will not hear you. No? Brother, away :-I will be heard ;- Or some of us will smart for it. Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and said, she cared not. D. Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if she did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly: the old man's daughter told us all. Claud. All, all; and moreover, God saw him when he was hid in the garden. D. Pedro. But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on the sensible Benedick's head?! Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dnells Benedick the married man? Bene. Fare you well, boy! you know my mind; I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not.-My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you: I must discontinue your company: your brother, the bastard, is fled from Messina: you have, among you, killed a sweet D. Pedro. See, see; here comes the man we went and innocent lady: For my lord Lack-beard, there, to seek. Claud. Now, signior! what news? Bene. Good day, my lord. D. Pedro. Welcome, signior: You are almost come to part almost a fray. Claud, We had like to have had our two noses. snapped off with two old men without teeth. he and I shall meet; and till then, peace be with D. Pedro. He is in earnest. rant you, for the love of Beatrice. D. Pedro. And hath challenged thee? D. Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit! Enter Dogberry, Verges, and the Watch, with Conrade and Borachio. Claud. He is then a giant to an ape: but then is an ape a doctor to such a man. D. Pedro. But, soft you, let be; pluck up, my heart, and be sad! Did he not say, my brother was fled? Dogb. Come, you, sir; if justice cannot tame you, she shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay, an you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to. D. Pedro. How now, two of my brother's men bound! Borachio, one! Claud, Hearken after their offence, my lord! D. Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done? Dogb. Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves. D. Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay to their charge? Claud. Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited. D. Pedro. Whom have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned constable is too cunning to be understood: What's your offence? Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceived eyen your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who, in the night, overheard me confessing to this man, how Don John your brother incensed me to slander the lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you disgraced her, when you should marry her my villainy they have upon record; which I had rather seal with my death, than repeat over to my shame :| the lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain. D. Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through Claud. I have drunk poison, whiles he uttered it. And fled he is upon this villainy. Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I loved it first. Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our Sexton hath reformed signior Leonato of the matter: And masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass. Verg. Here, here comes master signior Leonato, and the Sexton too. Re-enter Leonato and Antonio, with the Sexton. Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes; [me. Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, D. Pedro. By my soul, nor I; Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live, Claud. [ing; Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your com Bora. No, by my soul, she was not; Dogb. Moreover, sir, (which, indeed, is not under white and black,) this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment: And also, the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name; the which he hath used so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake: Pray you, examine him upon that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains. Dogb. God save the foundation ! Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee. Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your worship; I wish your worship well; God restore you to health: I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wished, God pro hibit it.-Come, neighbour. [Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, and Watch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you toD. Pedro. We will not fail. [morrow. Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero. [Exeunt Don Pedro and Claudio Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with Margaret, How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow [Exeunti 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? Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches. Marg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not. Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers. Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our own. Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons for maids. Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think, hath legs. [Exit Margaret. Bene. And therefore will come. I mean, in singing; but in loving.-Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full 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. Enter Beatrice. Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee? Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. Bene. O, stay but till then! Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now:and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio. Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee. Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome ; therefore I will depart unkissed. Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; 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? Beat. For them all together; which maintained so politick 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 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 it is 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 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.-The Inside of a Church. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, with musick and tapers. Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato ? Claud. [Reads from a scroll.] Done to death by slanderous tongues Gives her fame which never dies: [affixing it. Claud. Now unto thy bones good night! D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches out: The wolves have prey'd and look, the gentle Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about day, Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray: Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way. [weeds; D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other And then to Leonato's we will go. Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! speeds, [Exeunt SCENE IV.A Room in Leonato's House." Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Ursula, Friar, and Hero. Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who ac cus'd her, 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 enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. |