ACT V.Scene I.—The Court before Leonato's House.—Same as Scene I., Act I.
Enter Leonato and Antonio, L. 3 E.
Antonio (L.)
If you go on thus, you will kill yourself;
And 'tis not wisdom, thus to second grief
Against yourself.
Leon. (C.)
I pray thee, cease thy counsel;
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear,
But such a one, whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father, that so lov'd his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;—
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience.
To those that wring under the load of sorrow;
But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency,
To be so moral, when he shall endure
The like himself; therefore give me no counsel.
Antonio.
Therein do men from children nothing differ.
Leon.
I pray thee, peace; I will be flesh and blood;
For there was never yet philosopher,
-- 49 --
That could endure the tooth-ache patiently;
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a pish at chance and sufferance.
Antonio.
Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself;
Make those, who do offend you suffer too.
Leon.
There thou speak'st reason; nay, I will do so;
My soul doth tell me, Hero is belied;
All that shall Claudio know, so shall the prince
And all of them, that thus dishonour her.
Antonio.
Here comes the prince, and Claudio, hastily. Enter Don Pedro, and Claudio, L., and cross to R.
Don P.
Good den, good den.
Claudio.
Good day to both of you.
Leon.
Hear you, my lords—
Don P.
We have some haste, Leonato.
Leon.
Some haste, my lord!—well, fare you well, my lord:
Are you so hasty now?—well, all is one.
Don P. (R.)
Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.
Antonio. (L.)
If he could right himself with quarrelling.
Some of us would lie low.
Claudio. (R. C.)
Who wrongs him?
Leon. (C.)
Marry, thon dost wrong me, thou, dissembler thou! (Claudio grasps his sword)
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword
I fear thee not.
Claudio.
Marry, beshrew my hand,
If it should give your age such cause of fear.
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
Leon.
Tush, tush, man! Never fleer and jest at me!
I speak not like a dotard, nor a fool,
As, under privilege of age, to brag
What I have done being young, or what would do,
Were I not old: know, Claudio, to thy head,
Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child, and me,
That I am forced to lay my reverence by;
And, with grey hairs, and bruise of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man; (draws his sword)
I say, thou hast belied mine innocent child.
Don P.
You say not right, old man.
-- 50 --
Leon.
My lord, my lord,
I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;
Despite his nice fence, and his active practice,
His May of youth and bloom of lustyhood.
Claudio.
Away, I will not have to do with you! (cross, R.)
Leon.
Canst thou so daff me?
Antonio.
Let him answer me:
Come, follow me, boy; come, sir, boy, come follow me;
(crosses, R.)
Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence;
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will!
Leon. (crosses, R. C.)
Brother—
Antonio.
Content yourself. Heaven knows, I lov'd my neice,
And she is dead: slander'd to death by villains,
That dare as well answer a man, indeed,
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue?
Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops!
Leon.
Brother Antony—
Antonio.
Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple;
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies—if they durst,
And this is all.
Leon.
But, brother Antony—
Antonio.
Come, 'tis no matter;
Do not you meddle, let me deal in this.
Don P. (L. C.)
Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience.
My heart is sorry for your daughter's death;
But, on my honour, she was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.
Leon.
My lord, my lord—
Don P.
I will not hear you. (crosses, R.)
Leon.
No?
Come brother, away.—I will be heard!
Antonio.
And shall,
Or some of us will smart for it. Exeunt Leonato and Antonio, L. 3 E.
-- 51 --
Don P.
See, see,
Here comes the man we went to seek! Enter Benedick, L.
Claudio. (C.)
Now, signior, what news?
Bened. (L.)
Good day, my lord.
Don P.
Welcome, signior! You are almost come to
part almost a fray.
Claudio.
We had like to have had our two noses snapped
off, with two old men without teeth.
Don P.
Leonato and his brother. What think'st thou?
Had we fought, I doubt, we should have been too young
for them.
Bened.
In a false quarrel, there is no true valour. I
came to seek you both.
Claudio.
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?
Bened. (L. C.)
It is in my scabbard; shall I draw it?
Don P.
Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?
Claudio.
Never any did so, though very many have
been beside their wit.
Don P.
As I am an honest man, he looks pale.—Art
thou sick, or angry?
Claudio.
What! courage, man! What, though care
killed a cat, thou hast metal enough in thee to kill care.
Bened.
Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an'
you charge it against me;—I pray you, chuse another subject.
I don't like it.
Don P.
By this light, he changes more and more! I
think, he be angry, indeed!
Claudio.
If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.
Bened.
Shall I speak a word in your ear?
Claudio.
Heaven bless me from a challenge! (they go, L.)
Bened.
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 upon you! Let me hear from you.
Claudio.
Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.
Don P.
What, a feast, a feast!
-- 52 --
Claudio.
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 knifes' naught.
Bened.
Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
Don P. (C.)
But when shall we set the savage bull's
horns on the sensible Benedick's head?
Claudio. (R.)
Yea, and text underneath. “Here dwells
Benedick, the married man!”
Bened.
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 heaven
be thanked, hurt not!—My lord, (takes off his hat) 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 and
innocent lady: for my Lord Lackbeard there, he and I
shall meet, and till then, peace be with him!
Exit, L. 3 E.
Don P.
He is in earnest.
Claudio.
In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant
you, for the love of Beatrice!
Don P.
And hath challenged thee?
Claudio.
Most sincerely!
Don P.
What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in
his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit!—did he not
say, my brother was fled?
Enter Dogberry, Verges, with Conrade and Borachio bound, followed by Seacoal, Oatcake, the Sexton, who goes off, L. 3 E., and the Watch, L. 1 E.
[unresolved image link]
Dogb. (C.)
Come you, sir! if justice cannot tame you,
she shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance; nay,
and you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to.
Don P.
How now, two of my brother's men bound!
Borachio, one!
Claudio.
Hearken after their offence, my lord.
Don P.
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.
-- 53 --
Don P.
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?
Claudio. (R.)
Rightly reasoned, and in his own division.
Don P.
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?
Borachio. (L. C.)
Sweet prince, let me go no further to
mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me.
I have deceived even 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.
Don P. (to Claudio)
Runs not this speech like iron
through your blood?
Claudio.
I have drunk poison, whiles he uttered it.
Don P.
But did my brother set thee on to this?
Borachio.
Yea, and paid me richly for the practice
of it.
Don P.
He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery: and
fled he is upon this villainy.
Claudio.
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.
Verges.
Here comes Master Signior Leonato, and the
sexton too.
-- 54 --
Enter Leonato, Servants, and the Sexton, L. 3 E.
Leon.
Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes;
That, when I note another man like him,
I may avoid him: which of these is he?
Borachio. (L.)
If you would know your wronger, look on me.
Leon. (C.)
Art thou the slave, that, with thy breath, hast killed
Mine innocent child?
Borachio.
Yea—even I alone.
Leon.
No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself;
Here stand a pair of honourable men,
A third is fled, that had a hand in it:
(turning to Claudio and Pedro)
I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death;
Record it with your high and worthy deeds;
'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.
Claudio. (R. C.)
I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I must speak: Choose your revenge yourself;
Impose me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my sin; yet sinn'd I not,
But in mistaking.
Don. P. (R.)
By my soul, nor I;
And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight
That he'll enjoin me to.
Leon. (C.)
I cannot bid you bid my daughter live,
That were impossible; but, I pray you both,
Possess the people in Messina here,
How innocent she died;
To-morrow morning, come you to my house;
And, since you could not be my son-in-law,
Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
Almost a copy of my child that's dead,
And she alone is heir to both of us;
Give her the right you should have given her cousin,
And so dies my revenge.
Claudio.
O, noble sir,
Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer, and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio.
-- 55 --
Leon.
Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell;
To-night I take my leave.
Don P.
We will not fail.
Claudio.
To-night I'll mourn with Hero. Exeunt Don P. and Claudio, R. 1 E.
Leon.
This naughty man
Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who, I believe, was pact in all this wrong.
Borachio.
No, by my soul, she was not;
Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me;
But always hath been just and virtuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.
Dogb. (R.)
Moreover, sir, which, indeed, is not under
white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call
me an ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his
punishment. And also the Watch heard them talk of one
Deformed—pray you examine him upon that point.
Leon. (C.)
I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.
Dogb.
Your worship speaks like a most thankful and
reverend youth; and I praise heaven for you!
Leon.
There's for thy pains. (giving money)
Dogb.
Heaven save the foundation!
Leon.
Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoners, 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. Heaven keep your worship—I wish
your worship well. Heaven restore you to health! I
humbly give you leave to depart; and, if a merry meeting
may be wished, Heaven prohibit it! Come, neighbour.
Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, the Sexton, Seacoal, Oatcake, and the Watch, L.
Leon. (to Servants)
Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with Margaret,
How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. Exeunt, L. 3 E.Scene II.—A Hall in Leonato's House, L.Enter Benedick, L., and Margaret, R.
Bened.
'Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve
well at my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.
-- 56 --
Marg.
Will you, then, write me a sonnet in praise
of my beauty?
Bened.
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?
Bened.
Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth,
it catches.
Marg.
And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which
hit, but hurt not.
Bened.
A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a
woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice.
Marg.
Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think
hath legs.
Exit, R.
Bened.
And therefore will come.
(sings)
The god of love,
That sits above,
And knows me, and knows me,
How pitiful I deserve—
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 “school,”
“fool,” a babbling rhyme; for “scorn,” “horn,” a hard
rhyme, very ominous endings! No, I was not born under
a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.—
Enter Beatrice, R.
Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
Beatrice. (R. C.)
Yea, signior, and depart when you
bid me.
Bened.
O, stay but till then!
Beatrice.
“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 past between you and Claudio.
-- 57 --
Bened.
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?
Beatrice.
For them altogether; which maintained so
politic 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?
Bened.
Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love,
indeed, for I love thee against my will.
Beatrice.
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.
Bened.
Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
Beatrice.
It appears not in this confession; there's not
one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.
Bened.
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.
Beatrice.
And how long is that, think you?
Bened.
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 much for praising myself, who, I myself
will bear witness, is praise-worthy. And now tell me,
how doth your cousin?
Beatrice.
Very ill.
Bened.
And how do you?
Beatrice.
Very ill too.
Bened.
Serve heaven, love me, and mend.
Here comes one in haste. Enter Ursula, R.
Ursula.
Madam, you must come to your uncle; 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.
Exit Ursula, R.
Beatrice.
Will you go hear this news, signior?
-- 58 --
Bened.
I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be
buried in thy heart; and, moreover, I will go with thee
to thy uncle.
Exeunt, R.Scene III.—A Room in Leonato's House.Leonato, Hero, Friar, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Ursula, and other Ladies, discovered.
Friar. (L. C.)
Did not I tell you she was innocent?
Leon. (L.)
So are the Prince and Claudio, who accused her,
Upon the error that you heard debated:
But Margaret was in some fault for this;
Although against her will, as it appears.
Antonio. (C.)
Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
Bened. (R. C.)
And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
Leon. (to the Ladies who stand, R.)
Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves;
And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd:
The Prince and Claudio promised by this hour
To visit me.
Exeunt Beatrice, Hero, and all the Ladies, R.
You know your office, brother;
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio.
Antonio.
Which I will do with a confirm'd countenance.
Bened.
Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
Friar.
To do what, Signior?
Bened.
To bind me, or undo me; one of them.—
Signior Leonato, truth it is, good Signior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
Leon.
That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most true.
Bened.
And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon.
The sight whereof, I think, you had from me,
From Claudio and the Prince. But what's your will?
Bened.
Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:
But, for my will, my will is, your good-will
May stand with ours, this day to be conjoined
-- 59 --
In the estate of honourable marriage;—
In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
Leon.
My heart is with your liking.
Friar.
And my help.
Here come the Prince and Claudio. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, L.
Don P.
Good-morrow to this fair assembly.
Leon.
We here attend you: are you yet determined
To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
Claudio.
I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiop.
Leon.
Call her forth, brother: here's the friar ready. Exit Antonio, R.
Don P.
Good-morrow, Benedick: why, what's the matter.
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?
Claudio.
I think, he thinks upon the savage bull:—
Tush! fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold,
And all Europa shall rejoice at thee;
As once Europa did at lusty Jove.
When he would play the noble beast in love.
Bened. (L.)
Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low:
And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow,
And got a calf in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
Oh, here they come! Enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Ursula, and other Ladies, masked, R.
Claudio.
Which is the lady I must seize upon?
Antonio. (R.)
This same is she, and I do give you her. (presenting Hero)
Claudio.
Why then she is mine: Sweet, let me see your face.
Leon. (L. C.)
No, that you shall not, till you take her hand
Before this friar, and swear to marry her.
Claudio.
Give me your hand before this holy friar;
I am your husband, if you like of me.
Hero.
And when I lived, I was your other wife;
(unmasking)
And when you loved, you were my other husband.
-- 60 --
Claudio.
Another Hero?
Hero.
Nothing certainer:
One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
And, surely as I live, I am innocent.
Don P.
The former Hero! Hero, that is dead!
Leon.
She died, my lord, but whiles her slander liv'd.
Friar.
All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
Meantime, let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.
Bened. (L. C.)
Soft and fair, Friar. Which is Beatrice?
Beatrice. (R. C.)
I answer to that name.
(Beatrice and the other Ladies unmask, and all go up)
What is your will?
Bened.
Do not you love me?
Beatrice.
Why, no; no more than reason.
Bened.
Why, then, your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio,
Have been deceived—they swore you did.
Beatrice.
Do not you love me?
Bened.
Troth, no; no more than reason.
Beatrice.
Why, then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula,
Are much deceiv'd, for they did swear you did.
Bened.
They swore that you were almost sick for me.
Beatrice.
They swore that you were well nigh dead for me.
Bened.
'Tis no such matter:—Then, you do not love me!
Beatrice.
No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
Leon. (R.)
Come, cousin. I am sure you love the gentleman.
Claudio. (L.)
And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
For here's a paper, written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashioned to Beatrice. (gives the paper to Beatrice)
Hero.
And here's another,
Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick. (gives the paper to Benedick, and returns to R. of Claudio)
-- 61 --
Bened.
A miracle!—here's our own hands against our
hearts! Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I
take thee for pity.
Beatrice.
I would not deny you;—but, by this good
day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save
your life; for I was told you were in a consumption.
Bened.
Peace, I will stop your mouth.
Don P. (L. C.)
How dost thou, Benedick, the married
man? (all laugh)
Bened. (C.)
I'll tell thee what, Prince, a college of witcrackers
cannot flout me out of my humour: Dost thou
think, I care for a satire or an epigram? No! if a man
will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome
about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will
think nothing to any purpose that the world can say
against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have
said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my
conclusion.
Enter Officer, L.
Officer.
My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
And brought with armed men back to Messina.
Don P.
I think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise
brave punishments for him.
Exit Officer, L.
Bened.
Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but
in that thou art like to be my kinsman; live unbruised,
and love my cousin.
Claudio. (R. C.)
I had well hoped thou would'st have
denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of
thy single life, to make thee a double-dealer, which, out
of question thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look narrowly
to thee.
Bened.
Come, come, we are friends. Prince, thou
art sad.
Don P.
Yes, I've got the tooth-ache.
Bened.
Got the tooth-ache! Get thee a wife; and all
will be well. (all laugh) Nay, laugh not, laugh not.
Your gibes and mockeries I laugh to scorn:
No staff more rev'rend than one tipt with horn. [unresolved image link]Curtain.
