ACT IV.Scene I.—A Chapel.—(Organ as the Curtain rises)Don Pedro, Don John, Leonato, Friar, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, Beatrice, Bridesmaids, and Gentlemen, discovered.
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Leon. (R. C.)
Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the
plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular
duties afterwards.
Friar. (C.)
You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?
Claud. (L. C.)
No!
Leon.
To be married to her, Friar; you come to marry
her.
Friar.
Lady, you come hither to be married to this
Count?
Hero. (R. C.)
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?
Hero.
None, my lord.
Friar.
Know you any, Count?
-- 39 --
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!
Bened. (L.)
How now? Interjections?
Claud.
Stand thee by, Friar: Father, by your leave;
Will you, with free and unconstrained soul,
Give me this maid, your daughter?
Leon.
As freely, son, as Heaven did give her me. (passing her across to C.)
Claud.
And what have I to give you back, whose worth
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
Pedro. (L. C.)
Nothing, unless you render her again.
Claud.
Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness:
There, Leonato, take her back again:
(passing her back)
She's but the sign and semblance of her honour.—
Behold, now like a maid she blushes here!
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
Leon. (L. C.)
What do you mean, my lord?
Claud.
Not to be married,
Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton—
Leon.
Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth—
Claudio.
No, Leonato,
I never tempted her with word too large;
But, as a brother to a sister, showed
Bashful sincerity, and comely love.
Hero.
And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
Claudio.
Out on thy seeming! I will write against it;
You seem to me, as Dian in her orb;
As chaste, as is the bud ere it be blown;
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals,
That rage in savage sensuality.
Hero.
Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wild?
Leon.
Sweet Prince, why speak not you?
Don P.
What should I speak
I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a wanton here.
Leon.
Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
-- 40 --
Don John.
Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
Hero.
True, O heaven!
Claudio.
Leonato, stand I here?
Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's brother?
Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own?
Leon.
All this is so; but what of this, my lord:
Claudio.
Let me but move one question to your daughter,
And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
Leon.
I charge thee do so as thou art my child!
Hero.
O heav'n defend me! how am I beset!—
What kind of catechizing call you this?
Claudio.
To make you answer truly to your name.
Hero.
Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
With any just reproach?
Claudio.
Marry, that can Hero;
Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
What man was he, talk'd with you yesternight,
Out at your window, betwixt twelve and one?
Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.
Hero.
I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord,
Don P.
Leonato,
I am sorry you must hear:—upon mine honour,
Myself, my brother, and this grieved Count,
Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night,
Talk with a ruffian at her chamber window;
Who hath, indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
A thousand times in secret.
Don John.
Fie, fie! 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.
Claudio.
O Hero, what a hero hadst thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been placed
About the thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
But, fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell!
Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
For thee, I'll lock up all the gates of love,
And on my eye-lids shall conjecture hang,
-- 41 --
To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
And never shall it more be gracious.
Exeunt Claudio, Don Pedro, Don John, and Gentlemen, L.
Leon. (R.)
Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? (Hero swoons, and falls, C.
Beat.
Why, how now, cousin? wherefore sink you down?
Leon.
O fate, take not away thy heavy hand!
Death is the fairest cover for her shame,
That may be wish'd for.
Beat.
How now, cousin Hero?
Friar. (advancing to C.)
Have comfort, lady. (Hero revives)
Leon.
Dost thou look up?
Friar.
Yea; wherefore should she not?
Leon.
Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing
Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
The story, that is printed in her blood!
Do not live, Hero: do not ope thine eyes;
For did I think, thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I, thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
Myself, would, on the rearward of reproaches,
Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one?
Chid I for that, at frugal nature's frame?* note
O, one too much by thee! O, she is fallen
Into a pit of ink! that the wide sea
Hath drops too few, to wash her clean again! (crosses, L.)
Bened. (R. C.)
Sir, sir, be patient!
For my part, I am so attired in wonder,
I know not what to say.
Beatrice. (C.)
O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!
Bened.
Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
Beatrice.
No, truly not; although, until last night,
I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
Leon.
Confirm'd, confirm'd! Oh, that is stronger made,
-- 42 --
Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron?
Would the two Princes lie? and Claudio lie?
Who loved her so, that, speaking of her foulness,
Wash'd it with tears? Hence from her! let her die!
(crosses, R.)
Friar. (L. C.)
Hear me a little;
For I have only silent been so long
And given way unto this course of fortune,
By noting of the lady; I have mark'd
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face; a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness, beat away those blushes.
Call me a fool; trust not my age,
My reverend calling, nor divinity,* note
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here,
Under some biting error.
Leon.
Friar, it cannot be:
Thou seest, that all the grace that she hath left,
Is, that she will not add to her damnation,
A sin of perjury: she not denies it:
Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse
That, which appears in proper nakedness?
Friar.
Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
Hero.
They know, that do accuse me: I know none.
If I know more of any man alive,
Than that, which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy! (kneels) O my father,
Prove you that any man with me convers'd
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death.
Friar.
There is some strange misprison in the Princes.
Bened. (L.)
Two of them have the very bent of honor;
And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
The practice of it lives in John the bastard,
Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies.
Leon. (R.)
I know not. If they speak but truth of her.
The hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honour,
The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
-- 43 --
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.
Leon.
What shall become of this? What will this do?
Friar.
She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
Upon the instant that she was accused,
Shall be lamented, pitied, and excus'd
Of every hearer:—So will it fare with Claudio:
When he shall hear, she died upon his words,
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep
Into his study of imagination,
And every lovely organ of her life
Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit,
Into the eye and prospect of his soul,
Than when she liv'd indeed:—then shall he mourn,
And wish he had not so accused her;—
No, though he thought his accusation true.
Let this be so, and doubt not, but success
Will fashion the event in better shape,
Than I can lay it down, in likelihood.
Bened.
Signior Leonato, let the Friar advise you:
And though you know, my inwardness and love
Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio,
Yet, by mine honor, I will deal in this
As secretly and justly, as your soul
Should with your body.
Leon.
Being that I flow in grief,
The smallest twine may lead me.
Friar.
'Tis well consented; presently away;
Come, lady, die to live; this wedding day,
Perhaps, is but prolong'd; have patience and endure. Exeunt all but Benedick and Beatrice, R.
Bened. (R. C.)
Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this
while?
Beatrice. (C.)
Yea, and I will weep awhile longer.
Bened. (advances to her)
I will not desire that.
Beat.
You have no reason: I do it freely.
Bened.
Surely, I do believe you fair cousin is wronged.
-- 44 --
Beat.
Ah, how much might the man deserve of me,
that would right her.
Bened.
Is there any way to show such friendship?
Beat.
A very even way, but no such friend.
Bened.
May a man do it?
Beae.
It is a man's office, but not yours.
Bened. (pausing)
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.
Bened.
By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me!
Beat.
Do not swear by it, and eat it.
Bened.
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?
Bened.
With no sauce that can be devised to it: I protest
I love thee!
Beat.
Why, then, heaven forgive me!
Bened.
What offence, sweet Beatrice?
Beat.
You have stay'd me in an happy hour; I was
about to protest I loved you.
Bened.
And do it, with all thy heart!
Beat.
I love you with so much of my heart, that none
is left to protest.
Bened.
Come, bid me do any thing for thee.
Beat.
Kill Claudio. (falling on his neck)
Bened.
Ha! not for the wide world!
Beat.
You kill me to deny it:—farewell!
(crossing, R.)
Bened.
Tarry, sweet Beatrice!
taking her L. hand)
Beat.
I am gone, though I am here:—there is no love
in you:—Nay, I pray you, let me go.
Bened.
Beatrice—
Beat.
In faith, I will go!
Bened.
We'll be friends first.
Beat.
You dare easier be friends with me, than fight
with mine enemy.
Bened.
Is Claudio thine enemy?
Beat.
Is he not approved in the height a villain, that
hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?—
-- 45 --
Oh, that I were a man!—(crosses, L.) What! bear her
in hand until they come to take hands, and then, with
public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour.
—O heaven, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in
the market-place. (crosses, R.)
Bened.
Hear me, Beatrice. (following her)
Beat.
Talk with a man out at a window?—a proper
saying! (crosses, L.)
Bened.
Nay, but Beatrice—
Beat.
Sweet Hero!—she is wronged, she is slandered,
she is undone! (crosses, R.)
Bened.
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! (crosses, L.) 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 with grieving. (crosses, R.)
Bened.
Tarry, good Beatrice:—By this hand I love
thee!
Beat.
Use it for my love, some other way than
swearing by it.
Bened.
Think you in your soul, the Count Claudio
hath wronged Hero?
Beat.
Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul!
Bened.
Enough! I am engaged; I will challenge him.
Beat.
Will you?
Bened.
Upon my soul I will. I'll kiss your hand, and
so leave you. By this hand Claudio shall render me a
dear account.
Beat.
You'll be sure to challenge him?
Bened.
By those bright eyes I will.
Beat.
My dear friend! kiss my hand again.
Bened.
As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort
your cousin: I must say she is dead; and so farewell.
Beat.
Benedick, kill him, kill him dead, if you can.
Bened.
As sure as he is alive, I will!
Exeunt Beatrice, R., Benedick, L.
-- 46 --
Scene II.—A Prison—doors R., and L.
Enter Dogberry, Verges, Seacoal, and Oatcake and Watchmen, L.; a table, chairs, pen, ink, and book are brought on.
Dogb.
Is our whole dissembly appeared?
Enter Sexton, L.
Verges.
O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton!
(Dogberry, Verges, and Sexton sit, C.)
Sexton.
Which be the malefactors?
Dogb.
Marry, that am I and my partner.
Verges. (R. C.)
Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition
to examine.
Sexton. (L. C.)
But which are the offenders that are to be
examined? let them come before Master Constable. (opens
the book and preparing to write)
Dogb. (C.)
Yea, marry, let them come before me.
Enter Watch, bringing in Borachio and Conrade, R.
What is your name, friend?
Borach.
Borachio.
Dogb.
Pray write down Borachio. Yours, sirrah?
Conrade.
I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.
Dogb.
Write down master gentleman Conrade.—
Masters, do you serve heaven?
Conrade and Borach.
Yes, sir, we hope—
Dogb.
Write down, that they hope they serve heaven
—and write heaven first: for heaven defend but heaven
should go before such villains! Masters, it is proved already,
that you are little better than false knaves; and it
will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you
for yourselves.
Conrade.
Marry, sir, we say we are none.
Dogb.
A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you!—but I
will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah! a word
in your ear, sir; I say to you, it is thought you are false
knaves.
-- 47 --
Borach.
Sir, I say to you, we are none.
Dogb.
Well, stand aside—'Fore heaven, 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 stand forth:—Masters, I charge you, in the prince's
name, accuse these men!
Seacoal.
This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's
brother, was a villain.
Dogb.
Write down,—Prince John, a villain.—Why,
that is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother villain!
Borach.
Master Constable—
Dogb.
'Pray thee, fellow, peace!—I do not like thy
look, I promise thee.
Sexton.
What heard you him say else?
Oatcake.
Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats
of Don John, for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully.
Dogb.
Flat burglary, as ever was committed!
Verges.
Yea, by the mass, that it is!
Sexton.
What else, fellow?
Seacoal.
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?
Seacoal.
This is all.
Sexton.
And this is more, masters, than you can deny.
Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away: Hero
was in this manner accused, in this very manner refused,
and, upon the grief of this, suddenly died. Master Constable,
let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato's;
I will go before, and show him their examination.
Exit, L.
Dogb. (R.)
Come, let them be opinioned.
Conrade.
Off, coxcomb!
Dogb.
Gad's my life! where's the Sexton? let him
write down the prince's officer, coxcomb. Come, bind
them. Thou naughty varlet!
Conrade and Borachio are bound singly.
-- 48 --
Conrade.
Away, you are an ass! you are an ass!
Dogb.
Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not
suspect my years? O that he were here, to write me down
an ass!—but masters, remember, that I am an ass; though
it be not written down, yet forget not, that I am an ass:—
No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be proved
upon thee by good witness! I am a wise fellow; and,
which is more, an officer; and, which is more, a householder;
and, which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh, as
any in Messina; and one that knows the law, go to; and
a rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath had
losses; and one that hath two gowns, and every thing
handsome about him.—Bring him away. O, that I had
been writ down an ass!
