SCENE I.
Before Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, Hero, and Beatrice, with a Messenger.
Leon.
I learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of
Arragon 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?
Mess.
But few of any sort2 note
, and none of name.
Leon.
A victory is twice itself, when the atchiever
brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don
Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine,
call'd Claudio.
-- 252 --
Mess.
Much deserv'd on his part, and equally remembered
by Don Pedro: He hath borne himself
beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure
of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed,
better better'd 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
3 note
joy could not shew itself modest enough, without a
badge of bitterness.
Leon.
Did he break out into tears?
Mess.
In great measure.
Leon.
A kind overflow of kindness: There are no
faces truer4 note than those that are so wash'd. How much
better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping?
Beat.
I pray you, 5 note
is signior Montanto return'd
from the wars, or no?
-- 253 --
Mess.
I know none of that name, lady; 6 notethere
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.
Mess.
O, he's return'd; and as pleasant as ever he
was.
Beat.
7 note
He set up his bills here in Messina, and
challenged Cupid 8 note
at the flight: and my uncle's fool,
-- 254 --
reading the challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challenged
him at the bird-bolt.—I pray you, how many
-- 255 --
hath he kill'd and eaten in these wars? But how many
hath he kill'd? for, indeed, I promis'd to eat all
of his killing.
Leon.
Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too
much; but he'll be meet with you9 note
, I doubt it not.
Mess.
He hath done good service, lady, in these
wars.
Beat.
You had musty victual, and he hath holp
to eat it: he's a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an
excellent stomach.
Mess.
And a good soldier too, lady.
Beat.
And a good soldier to a lady;—But what is
he to a lord?
Mess.
A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuff'd with
all honourable virtues1 note
.
Beat.
It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuff'd
man2 note: but for the stuffing,—well, we are all mortal.
-- 256 --
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's a skirmish of wit
between them.
Beat.
Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last
conflict, four of his 3 note
five wits went halting off, and
now is the whole man govern'd with one: so that if
he have 4 note
wit enough to keep himself warm, let him
-- 257 --
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: 5 notehe wears his faith but
as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the
next block6 note
.
Mess.
I see, lady, 7 note
the gentleman is not in your
books.
-- 258 --
Beat.
No: an he were, I would burn my study.
But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no
8 noteyoung squarer now, that will make a voyage with
him to the devil?
-- 259 --
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 pounds ere he be cur'd.
Mess.
I will hold friends with you, lady.
Beat.
Do, good friend.
Leon.
You'll ne'er run mad, niece.
Beat.
No, not 'till a hot January.
Mess.
Don Pedro is approach'd.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and Don John.
Pedro.
Good Signior Leonato, you are come to
meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to
avoid cost, and you encounter it.
Leon.
Never came trouble to my house in the likeness
of your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort
should remain; but, when you depart from me, sorrow
abides, and happiness takes his leave.
Pedro.
You embrace your 9 notecharge too willingly.—
I think, this is your daughter.
Leon.
Her mother hath many times told me so.
Bene.
Were you in doubt, sir, that you ask'd her?
Leon.
Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a
child.
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
-- 260 --
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?
Beat.
Is it possible, disdain should die, while she
hath such meet food to feed it, as signior Benedick1 note
?
Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
in her presence.
Bene.
Then is courtesy a turn-coat:—But it is certain,
I am lov'd of all ladies, 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
scratch'd 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.
Pedro.
This is the sum of all: Leonato,—signior
Claudio, and signior Benedick,—my dear friend Leonato
-- 261 --
hath invited you all. I tell him, we shall stay
here at the least a month; and he 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.
John.
I thank you2 note: I am not of many words, but
I thank you.
Leon.
Please it your grace lead on?
Pedro.
Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.
[Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio.
Claud.
Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of
signior Leonato?
Bene.
I noted her not; but I look'd 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 judgment.
Bene.
Why, i'faith, methinks she is too low for
a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too
little for a great praise: only this commendation I
can 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 think'st, I am in sport; I pray thee,
tell me truly how thou lik'st her.
Bene.
Would you buy her, that you enquire 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
-- 262 --
Jack; to tell us Cupid is 3 note
a good hare-finder,
and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key
shall a man take you, to go in the song4 note?
Claud.
In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that I
ever looked on.
Bene.
I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no
such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possess'd
with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty,
as the first of May doth the last of December. But
I hope, you have no intent to turn husband; have
you?
-- 263 --
Claud.
I would scarce trust myself, though I had
sworn the contrary, if Hero would by my wife.
Bene.
Is't come to this, i'faith? Hath not the
world one man, but he will wear 5 notehis cap with suspicion?
Shall I never see a batchelor of threescore
again? Go to, i'faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy
neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and 6 note
sigh
away sundays. Look, Don Pedro is return'd to
seek you.
Re-enter Don Pedro.
Pedro.
What secret hath held you here, that you
follow'd not to Leonato's?
Bene.
I would, your grace would constrain me to
tell.
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 uttered7 note
.
-- 264 --
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.
Pedro.
Amen, if you love her, for the lady is very
well worthy.
Claud.
You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.
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 speak mine.
Claud.
That I love her, I feel.
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.
Pedro.
Thou wast ever an obstinate heretick in the
despight of beauty.
Claud.
And never could maintain his part, 2 notebut
in the force of his will.
Bene.
That a woman conceived me, I thank her;
that she brought me up, I likewise give her most
humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat
winded in my forehead3 note
, or hang my bugle in an
-- 265 --
invisible baldrick4 note
, all women shall pardon me: Because
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
batchelor.
Pedro.
I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with
love.
Bene.
With anger, with sickness, or with hunger,
my lord; not with love: prove, that ever I lose more
blood with love, than I will get again with drinking,
pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen, and
hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the
sign of blind Cupid.
Pedro.
Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith,
thou wilt prove a notable argument5 note.
Bene.
If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat6 note
, and
-- 266 --
shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clap'd
on the shoulder, and call'd7 note
Adam.
Pedro.
Well, as time shall try:
In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke8 note.
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 marry'd man.
Claud.
If this should ever happen, thou would'st
be horn-mad.
Pedro.
Nay, 9 noteif Cupid hath not spent all his quiver
in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.
-- 267 --
Bene.
I look for an earthquake too then.
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 you—
Claud.
To the tuition of God; from my house, (if
I had it,)—
Pedro.
The sixth of July; your loving friend, Benedick.
Bene.
Nay, mock not, mock not: The body of your
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments1 note
, and
the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
2 noteyou stout old ends any further, examine your conscience;
and so I leave you.
[Exit.
Claud.
My liege, your highness now may do me good.
Pedro.
My love is thine to teach; teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
Claud.
Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
Pedro.
No child but Hero, she's his only heir:
Dost thou affect her Claudio?
Claud.
O my lord,
-- 268 --
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
That lik'd, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love:
But now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
Saying, I lik'd her ere I went to wars.
Pedro.
Thou wilt be like a lover presently,
And tire the hearer with a book of words:
If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it;
And I will break with her, and with her father,
And thou shalt have her: Was't not to this end,
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
Claud.
How sweetly do you minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complection!
But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salv'd it with a longer treatise.
Pedro.
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
3 noteThe fairest grant is the necessity:
Look, what will serve, is fit: 'tis once, thou lov'st;
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know, we shall have revelling to night;
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio;
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then, after, to her father will I break;
And, the conclusion is, she shall be thine:
In practice let us put it presently.
[Exeunt.
-- 269 --
SCENE II.
A Room in Leonato's House.
Enter Leonato and Antonio.
Leo.
How now, brother? Where is my cousin,
your son? Hath he provided this musick?
Ant.
He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can
tell you news that you yet dream'd not of.
Leon.
Are they good?
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 alley4 note
in my orchard, were thus overheard by a man of
mine: The prince discover'd to Claudio, that he
lov'd my niece your daughter, and meant to acknowledge
it this evening 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?
Ant.
A good sharp fellow; I will send for him,
and question him yourself.
Leon.
No, no; we will hold it as a dream, till it
appear itself:—but I will acquaint my daughter
withal, that she may be the better prepared for an
answer, if peradventure this be true: Go you, and
tell her of it. [Several Servants cross the stage here.]
Cousin, you know 9Q0228 what you have to do.—O, I
cry you mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will
use your skill:—Good cousin, have a care this busy
time.
[Exeunt
-- 270 --
SCENE III.
Another Apartment in Leonato's House.
Enter Don John 9Q0229 and Conrade.
Conr.
What the good-jer, my lord5 note! why are you
thus out of measure sad?
John.
There is no measure in the occasion that
breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit.
Conr.
You should hear reason.
John.
And when I have heard it, what blessing
bringeth it?
Conr.
If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance.
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 am6 note: I must be sad when I have cause, and
smile at no man's jests; eat when I have stomach,
and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy,
and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am
merry, and 7 noteclaw no man in his humour.
Conr.
Yea, but you must not make the full show of
this, till you may do it without controulment. 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 root, but by the fair weather
-- 271 --
that you make yourself: it is needful that you frame
the season for your own harvest.
John.
I had rather be a 8 note
canker in a hedge, than a
rose in his grace 9Q0230; and it better fits my blood to be
disdain'd 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 deny'd but I am
a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle,
and infranchised 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.
Conr.
Can you make no use of your discontent?
John.
I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who
comes here? what news Borachio?
Enter Borachio.
Bora.
I came yonder from a great supper; the
prince, your brother, is royally entertain'd by Leonato;
and I can give you intelligence of an intended
marriage.
John.
Will it serve for any model to build mischief
-- 272 --
on? What is he for a fool, that betroths himself to
unquietness?
Bora.
Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
John.
Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
Bora.
Even he!
John.
A proper squire! and who, and who? which
way looks he?
Bora.
Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of
Leonato.
John.
A very forward March-chick! How come
you to know this?
Bora.
Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was
smoaking a musty room, comes me the prince and
Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference9 note: 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.
John.
Come, come, let us thither; this may prove
food to my displeasure: that young start-up hath
all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him
any way, I bless myself every way: You are both
sure1 note, and will assist me.
Conr.
To the death, my lord.
John.
Let us to the great supper; their cheer is
the greater, that I am subdu'd: 'Would the cook
were of my mind!—Shall we go prove what's to be
done?
Bora.
We'll wait upon your lordship.
[Exeunt.
-- 273 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].