ACT III.SCENE I.Continues in the Orchard.Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.
Hero.
Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour;
There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
Proposing with the prince and Claudio5note:
Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter;—like favourites,
Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it:—there will she hide her,
To listen our propose6note: This is thy office,
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
Marg.
I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. [Exit.
Hero.
Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick:
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit:
My talk to thee must be, how Benedick
Is sick in love with Beatrice: Of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hear-say. Now begin.
-- 303 --
Enter Beatrice, behind.
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
Urs.
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait:
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture:
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
Hero.
Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.—
[They advance to the bower.
No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
I know, her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggards of the rock7note
.
Urs.
But are you sure,
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
Hero.
So says the prince, and my new-trothed lord?
Urs.
And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
Hero.
They did intreat me to acquaint her of it:
But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,
To wish him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.
Urs.
Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman
-- 304 --
Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed8note
,
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
Hero.
O God of love! I know, he doth deserve
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But nature never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice:
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
9note
Misprising what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her
All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.
Urs.
Sure, I think so;
And therefore, certainly, it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.
Hero.
Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward1note: if fair-fac'd,
She'd swear, the gentleman should be her sister;
2note
If black, why, nature, drawing of an antick,
Made a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed;
3note
If low, an aglet very vilely cut:
-- 305 --
If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If silent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
Urs.
Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Hero.
No; not to be so odd, and from all fashions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable:
But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death 9Q0238with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
It were a better death than die with mocks;
Which is as bad as die with tickling. 9Q0239
-- 306 --
Urs.
Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.
Hero.
No; rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel him to fight against his passion:
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with; One doth not know,
How much an ill word may empoison liking.
Urs.
O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
She cannot be so much without true judgment,
(Having so swift and excellent a wit,
As she is priz'd to have) as to refuse
So rare a gentleman as signior Benedick.
Hero.
He is the only man of Italy,
Always excepted my dear Claudio.
Urs.
I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,
Speaking my fancy; signior Benedick,
For shape, for bearing, 4noteargument, and valour,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.
Hero.
Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
Urs.
His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.—
When are you marry'd, madam?
Hero.
Why, every day;—to-morrow: Come, go in,
I'll shew thee some attires; and have thy counsel,
Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
She's lim'd, I warrant you; we have caught her, madam.
Hero.
If it prove so, then loving goes by haps:
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. [Exeunt.
-- 307 --
Beatrice advancing.
Beat. 6noteWhat fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
Contempt, farewel! and maiden pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of such.
And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee;
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand7note;
If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band:
For others say, thou dost deserve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly. [Exit.SCENE II.Leonato's House.Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.
Pedro.
I do but stay till your marriage be consummate,
and then go I toward Arragon.
Claud.
I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll
vouchsafe me.
Pedro.
Nay, that would be as great a soil in the
new gloss of your marriage8note
, as to shew 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
-- 308 --
mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring,
and the little hangman dare not shoot at him9note
:
he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue
is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue
speaks1note
.
Bene.
Gallants, I am not as I have been.
Leon.
So say I; methinks, you are sadder.
Claud.
I hope, he be in love.
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.
Pedro.
Draw it.
Bene.
Hang it!
Claud.
You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
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.
Pedro.
2noteThere is no appearance of fancy in him,
unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises;
as to be a Dutch man to-day; a French man to-morrow;
-- 309 --
or in the shape of two countries at once; as a
German from the waist downward, all slops3note
; and a
Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet: Unless
he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath,
he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it to 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?
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 cheek hath
already stuff'd tennis-balls. 9Q0240
Leon.
Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by
the loss of a beard.
Pedro.
Nay, he rubs hmself with civet: Can you
smell him out by that?
Claud.
That's as much as to say, The sweet youth's
in love.
Pedro.
The greatest note of it, is his melancholy.
Claud.
And when was he wont to wash his face?
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 lute-string, and now govern'd by stops.
Pedro.
Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him:
Conclude, conclude he is in love,
Claud.
Nay, but I know who loves him.
Pedro.
That would I know too; I warrant, one
that knows him not.
Claud.
Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despight
of all, dies for him.
signior, walk aside with me; I have studied eight
or nine wise words to speak to you, which these
hobby-horses must not hear.
[Exeunt Benedick and Leonato.
Pedro.
For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.
Claud.
'Tis even so: Hero and Margaret have
by this time play'd their parts with Beatrice; and
then the two bears will not bite one another, when
they meet.
Enter Don John.
John.
My lord and brother, God save you.
Pedro.
Good den, brother.
John.
If your leisure serv'd, I would speak with
you.
Pedro.
In private?
John.
If it please you:—yet count Claudio may
hear; for what I would speak of, concerns him.
Pedro.
What's the matter?
John.
Means your lordship to be marry'd to-morrow?
[To Claudio.
Pedro.
You know, he does.
John.
I know not that, when he knows what I
know.
Claud.
If there be any impediment, I pray you, discover
it.
John.
You may think, I love you not; let that
-- 312 --
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-bestow'd!
Pedro.
Why, what's the matter?
John.
I came hither to tell you, and circumstances
shorten'd, (for she hath been too long a talking of)
the lady is disloyal.
Claud.
Who? Hero?
John.
Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero,
every man's Hero5note
.
Claud.
Disloyal?
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 tonight,
you shall see her chamber-window enter'd;
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?
Pedro.
I will not think it.—
John.
If you dare not trust that you see, confess not
that you know: if you will follow me, I will shew
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.
Pedro.
And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her,
I will join with thee to disgrace her.
John.
I will disparage her no farther, till you are
-- 313 --
my witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and
let the issue shew itself.
Pedro.
O day untowardly turned!
Claud.
O mischief strangely thwarting!
John.
O plague right well prevented!
So you will say, when you have seen the sequel. [Exeunt.SCENE III.The Street.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, body and soul.
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 charge6note, neighbour
Dogberry.
Dogb.
First, who think you the most desartless man
to be constable?
1 Watch.
Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal;
for they can write and read.
Dogb.
Come hither, neighbour Seacoal: God hath
bless'd you with a good name: to be a well-favour'd
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 answer.
-- 314 --
Well, for your favour, sir, why, give God
thanks, and make no boast of it; and for your writing
and reading, let that appear when there is 7note
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 lanthorn: 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?
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 knave.
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 none
but the prince's subjects:—You shall also make
no noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble
and talk, is most tolerable and not to be endur'd.
2 Watch.
We will rather sleep than talk; we know
what belongs to a watch,
Dogb.
Why, you speak like an ancient and most
quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping
should offend: only, have a care that your bills be not
stolen8note
[unresolved image link]
:—Well, you are to call at all the ale-houses,
and bid them that are drunk get them to bed.
-- 315 --
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 answer,
you may say, they are not the men you took them
for.
2 Watch.
Well sir.
Dogb.
If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by
virtue of your office, to be no true man; 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 hands on him?
Dogb.
Truly, by your office you may; but, I
think, they that touch pitch will be defil'd: the most
peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to
let him shew himself what he is, and steal out of
your company.
Verg.
You have always been call'd a merciful
man, partner.
Dogb.
Truly, I would not hang a dog by my
will; much more a man who hath any honesty in
him.
If you hear a child cry in the night, you
must call to the nurse, and bid her still it.
2 Watch.
How if the nurse be asleep, and will not
hear us?
Dogb.
Why then, depart in peace, and let the child
-- 316 --
wake her with crying: for the ewe that will not hear
her lamb when it baes, will never answer a calf when
he bleats.
-- 317 --
Verg.
'Tis very true.
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'rlady, that, I think, he cannot.
Dogb.
Five shillings to one on't, with any man that
knows the statues, he may stay him: marry, not without
the prince be willing: for, indeed, the watch
ought to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay
a man against his will.
Verg.
By'rlady, 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 vigilant, I beseech you.
[Exeunt Dogberry and Verges.Enter Borachio and Conrade.
Bora.
What! Conrade,—
Watch.
Peace, stir not.
[Aside.
Bora.
Conrade, I say!
Conr.
Here, man, I am at thy elbow.
-- 318 --
Bora.
Mass, and my elbow itch'd; I thought, there
would a scab follow?
Conr.
I will owe thee an answer for that; and now
forward with thy tale.
Bora.
Stand thee close then under this pent-house,
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.
Conr.
Is it possible that any villainy should be so dear?
Bora.
Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possible
1note
any villainy should be so rich: for when rich villains
have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what
price they will.
Conr.
I wonder at it.
Bora.
That shews, 2notethou art unconfirm'd: Thou
knowest, that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a
cloak, is nothing to a man.
Conr.
Yes, it is apparel.
Bora.
I mean, the fashion.
Conr.
Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
Bora.
Tush! I may as well say, the fool's the fool.
But see'st thou not, what a deformed thief this fashion
is?
Watch.
I know that Deformed; he has been a vile
thief these seven year; he goes up and down like a
gentleman: I remember his name.
Bora.
Didst thou not hear some body?
Conr.
No; 'twas the vane 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?
-- 319 --
sometime, fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers in
the reechy 3note
painting; sometime, like god Bel's
priests in the old church window; 4note
sometime, like
the shaven Hercules in the 5note
smirch'd worm-eaten
tapestry, where his cod-piece seems as massy as his
club?
Conr.
All this I see; and see, that the fashion
wears out more apparel than the man: But art not
-- 320 --
thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou
hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the
fashion?
Bora.
Not so neither: but know, that I have tonight
wooed Margaret, the lady Hero's gentlewoman,
by the name of Hero; she leans me out at
her mistress's chamber-window, bids me a thousand
times good night—I tell this 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 encounter.
Conr.
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 possess'd them,
partly by the dark night, which did deceive them,
but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any
slander that Don John had made, away went Claudio
enraged; swore he would meet her, as he was appointed,
next morning at the temple, and there, before
the whole congregation, shame her with what he
saw o'er 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 commonwealth.
1 Watch.
And one Deformed is one of them; I
know him, he wears a lock6note
By my troth, it's not so good; and I warrant,
your cousin will say so.
Hero.
My cousin's a fool, and thou art another;
I'll wear none but this.
Marg.
I like the new tire within excellently, if the
hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a most
rare fashion, i'faith. I saw the dutchess of Milan's
gown, that they praise so.
Hero.
O, that exceeds, they say.
Marg.
By my troth, it's but a night-gown in respect
of yours: Cloth of gold, and cuts, and lac'd
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,
yours 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 asham'd?
Marg.
Of what, lady? of speaking honourably?
Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is
not your lord honourable without marriage? I
-- 323 --
think you would have me say, saving your reverence,
—a husband: an bad thinking do not wrest
true speaking, I'll offend no body: Is 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.
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 I can; nor, indeed, I
cannot think, if I would think my heart out o'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 despight of
-- 326 --
his heart, 5notehe eats his meat without grudging: and
how you may be converted, I know not; but, methinks,
you look with your eyes as other women do.
Beat.
What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Marg.
Not a false gallop.
Re-enter Ursula.
Urs.
Madam, withdraw; the prince, the count,
signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of
the town, are come to fetch you to church.
Hero.
Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg,
good Ursula.
[Exeunt.SCENE V.Another Apartment in Leonato's House.Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Leon.
What would you with me, honest neighbour?
Dogb.
Marry, sir, I would have some confidence
with you, that decerns you nearly.
Leon.
Brief, I pray you; for you see, 'tis a busy
time with me.
Dogb.
Marry, this it is, sir.
Verg.
Yes, in truth it is, sir.
Leon.
What is it, my good friends?
Dogb.
Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little of
the matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not
so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were;
but, in faith, honest, as the skin between his brows6note.
I am as honest as any
man living, that is an old man, and no honester
than I.
Dogb.
Comparisons are odorous: palabras8note, 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.
Verg.
And so am I.
Leon.
I would fain know what you have to say.
Verg.
Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting
your worship's presence, hath ta'en a couple of as arrant
knaves as any in Messina.
Dogb.
A good old man, sir; he will be talking;
as they say, When the age is in, the wit is out; God
help us! it is a world to see!* note—Well said, i'faith,
; an
two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind1note
:—
An honest soul, i'faith, sir; by my troth he is, as
ever broke bread: but, God is to be worshipp'd;
All men are not alike; alas good neighbour!
Leon.
Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of
you.
Dogb.
Gifts, that God gives.
Leon.
I must leave you.
Dogb.
One word, sir: our watch have, indeed,
comprehended two aspicious persons, and we would
have them this morning examin'd before your worship.
Leon.
Take their examination yourself, and bring
it me; I am now in great haste, as may appear unto
you.
Dogb.
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.
-- 329 --
Leon.
I will wait upon them; I am ready.
[Exit Leonato.
Dogb.
Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis
Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the
jail; we are now to examination these men.
Verg.
And we must do it wisely.
Dogb.
We will spare for no wit, I warrant you;
here's that [touching his forehead] shall drive some of
them to a non-com: only get the learned writer to
set down our excommunication, and meet me at the
jail.
