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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.. Much Adoe about Nothing from Mr. William Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies. Published according to the true originall copies.. Table des rôles
Rôle Scènes Répl. Répl. moy. Présence Texte Texte % prés. Texte × pers. Interlocution
[TOUS] 17 sc. 973 répl. 1,8 l. 1 785 l. 1 785 l. 14 % 13 002 l. (100 %) 7,3 pers.
Dogberry 4 sc. 39 répl. 2,6 l. 440 l. (25 %) 102 l. (6 %) 24 % 3 007 l. (24 %) 6,8 pers.
Antonio 4 sc. 22 répl. 1,7 l. 589 l. (33 %) 37 l. (3 %) 7 % 5 704 l. (44 %) 9,7 pers.
Balthasar 2 sc. 7 répl. 1,0 l. 423 l. (24 %) 7 l. (1 %) 2 % 4 209 l. (33 %) 9,9 pers.
Don John 6 sc. 41 répl. 1,9 l. 843 l. (48 %) 78 l. (5 %) 10 % 7 046 l. (55 %) 8,4 pers.
Beatrice 8 sc. 106 répl. 1,9 l. 1 154 l. (65 %) 199 l. (12 %) 18 % 9 305 l. (72 %) 8,1 pers.
Benedick 8 sc. 136 répl. 2,4 l. 1 319 l. (74 %) 320 l. (18 %) 25 % 10 967 l. (85 %) 8,3 pers.
Hero 6 sc. 44 répl. 2,0 l. 913 l. (52 %) 87 l. (5 %) 10 % 7 822 l. (61 %) 8,6 pers.
Borachio 6 sc. 38 répl. 2,4 l. 734 l. (42 %) 92 l. (6 %) 13 % 6 056 l. (47 %) 8,2 pers.
Boy 1 sc. 2 répl. 0,3 l. 174 l. (10 %) 1 l. (1 %) 1 % 1 217 l. (10 %) 7,0 pers.
Claudio 8 sc. 123 répl. 1,4 l. 1 263 l. (71 %) 168 l. (10 %) 14 % 10 731 l. (83 %) 8,5 pers.
Conrade 3 sc. 19 répl. 1,1 l. 216 l. (13 %) 20 l. (2 %) 10 % 1 140 l. (9 %) 5,3 pers.
Cowley 1 sc. 3 répl. 0,8 l. 52 l. (3 %) 2 l. (1 %) 5 % 413 l. (4 %) 8,0 pers.
Friar Francis 2 sc. 16 répl. 3,3 l. 310 l. (18 %) 53 l. (3 %) 18 % 2 571 l. (20 %) 8,3 pers.
Verges 3 sc. 14 répl. 0,9 l. 388 l. (22 %) 13 l. (1 %) 4 % 2 595 l. (20 %) 6,7 pers.
Keeper 1 sc. 2 répl. 2,1 l. 52 l. (3 %) 4 l. (1 %) 9 % 413 l. (4 %) 8,0 pers.
Kemp 1 sc. 11 répl. 2,4 l. 52 l. (3 %) 26 l. (2 %) 51 % 413 l. (4 %) 8,0 pers.
Leonato 9 sc. 122 répl. 1,9 l. 1 311 l. (74 %) 232 l. (14 %) 18 % 10 918 l. (84 %) 8,3 pers.
Lord 2 sc. 3 répl. 0,5 l. 29 l. (2 %) 1 l. (1 %) 6 % 86 l. (1 %) 3,0 pers.
Margaret 4 sc. 26 répl. 1,8 l. 459 l. (26 %) 47 l. (3 %) 11 % 3 830 l. (30 %) 8,3 pers.
Messenger 3 sc. 17 répl. 1,1 l. 341 l. (20 %) 19 l. (2 %) 6 % 2 658 l. (21 %) 7,8 pers.
Don Pedro 8 sc. 135 répl. 1,6 l. 1 263 l. (71 %) 214 l. (12 %) 17 % 10 731 l. (83 %) 8,5 pers.
Sexton 1 sc. 8 répl. 1,3 l. 52 l. (3 %) 11 l. (1 %) 21 % 413 l. (4 %) 8,0 pers.
Ursula 4 sc. 19 répl. 1,7 l. 459 l. (26 %) 32 l. (2 %) 7 % 3 830 l. (30 %) 8,3 pers.
Watchman 2 sc. 20 répl. 1,0 l. 169 l. (10 %) 20 l. (2 %) 12 % 998 l. (8 %) 5,9 pers.
Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.. Much Adoe about Nothing from Mr. William Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies. Published according to the true originall copies.. Statistiques par relation
Relation Scènes Texte Interlocution
Dogberry
Borachio
4 l. (56 %) 1 répl. 3,1 l.
3 l. (45 %) 1 répl. 2,6 l.
1 sc. 6 l. (1 %) 7,0 pers.
Dogberry
Verges
35 l. (79 %) 14 répl. 2,4 l.
10 l. (22 %) 10 répl. 1,0 l.
3 sc. 44 l. (3 %) 6,7 pers.
Dogberry
Leonato
31 l. (79 %) 11 répl. 2,8 l.
9 l. (22 %) 12 répl. 0,7 l.
2 sc. 39 l. (3 %) 7,4 pers.
Dogberry
Don Pedro
7 l. (75 %) 2 répl. 3,3 l.
3 l. (26 %) 2 répl. 1,1 l.
1 sc. 9 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Dogberry
Sexton
1 l. (14 %) 2 répl. 0,5 l.
6 l. (87 %) 2 répl. 2,9 l.
1 sc. 7 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Dogberry
Watchman
27 l. (79 %) 8 répl. 3,3 l.
8 l. (22 %) 9 répl. 0,8 l.
1 sc. 34 l. (2 %) 5,0 pers.
Antonio
Beatrice
2 l. (21 %) 3 répl. 0,5 l.
6 l. (80 %) 1 répl. 5,8 l.
1 sc. 7 l. (1 %) 12,0 pers.
Antonio
Leonato
27 l. (35 %) 8 répl. 3,3 l.
51 l. (66 %) 16 répl. 3,2 l.
4 sc. 77 l. (5 %) 9,7 pers.
Antonio
Lord
2 l. (87 %) 1 répl. 1,5 l.
1 l. (14 %) 1 répl. 0,2 l.
1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 3,0 pers.
Antonio
Don Pedro
4 l. (83 %) 4 répl. 0,8 l.
1 l. (18 %) 1 répl. 0,7 l.
1 sc. 4 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Antonio
Ursula
2 l. (26 %) 3 répl. 0,4 l.
4 l. (75 %) 3 répl. 1,2 l.
1 sc. 5 l. (1 %) 12,0 pers.
Balthasar
Margaret
1 l. (5 %) 1 répl. 0,1 l.
2 l. (96 %) 2 répl. 0,9 l.
1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 12,0 pers.
Balthasar
Don Pedro
7 l. (41 %) 5 répl. 1,2 l.
9 l. (60 %) 6 répl. 1,5 l.
1 sc. 15 l. (1 %) 7,0 pers.
Don John
Borachio
22 l. (36 %) 17 répl. 1,3 l.
39 l. (65 %) 16 répl. 2,4 l.
3 sc. 60 l. (4 %) 9,6 pers.
Don John
Claudio
22 l. (81 %) 10 répl. 2,1 l.
6 l. (20 %) 7 répl. 0,7 l.
3 sc. 27 l. (2 %) 9,4 pers.
Don John
Conrade
22 l. (72 %) 5 répl. 4,3 l.
9 l. (29 %) 5 répl. 1,7 l.
1 sc. 30 l. (2 %) 3,0 pers.
Don John
Leonato
1 l. (22 %) 1 répl. 0,9 l.
4 l. (79 %) 2 répl. 1,7 l.
2 sc. 4 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Don John
Don Pedro
11 l. (55 %) 6 répl. 1,7 l.
9 l. (46 %) 8 répl. 1,1 l.
2 sc. 19 l. (2 %) 7,2 pers.
Beatrice
Benedick
79 l. (44 %) 53 répl. 1,5 l.
102 l. (57 %) 60 répl. 1,7 l.
6 sc. 180 l. (11 %) 8,6 pers.
Beatrice
Hero
10 l. (66 %) 3 répl. 3,0 l.
5 l. (35 %) 6 répl. 0,8 l.
3 sc. 14 l. (1 %) 9,1 pers.
Beatrice
Claudio
3 l. (41 %) 2 répl. 1,3 l.
4 l. (60 %) 3 répl. 1,2 l.
1 sc. 6 l. (1 %) 12,0 pers.
Beatrice
Leonato
52 l. (74 %) 17 répl. 3,0 l.
19 l. (27 %) 14 répl. 1,3 l.
4 sc. 70 l. (4 %) 9,4 pers.
Beatrice
Margaret
11 l. (38 %) 10 répl. 1,0 l.
17 l. (63 %) 7 répl. 2,4 l.
1 sc. 27 l. (2 %) 4,0 pers.
Beatrice
Messenger
20 l. (78 %) 8 répl. 2,5 l.
6 l. (23 %) 8 répl. 0,7 l.
1 sc. 25 l. (2 %) 8,0 pers.
Beatrice
Don Pedro
20 l. (79 %) 9 répl. 2,2 l.
6 l. (22 %) 6 répl. 0,9 l.
2 sc. 25 l. (2 %) 10,2 pers.
Benedick
Hero
1 l. (23 %) 1 répl. 0,5 l.
2 l. (78 %) 1 répl. 1,8 l.
1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 8,3 pers.
Benedick
Boy
2 l. (72 %) 2 répl. 0,6 l.
1 l. (29 %) 2 répl. 0,3 l.
1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 7,0 pers.
Benedick
Claudio
68 l. (65 %) 27 répl. 2,5 l.
37 l. (36 %) 26 répl. 1,4 l.
7 sc. 104 l. (6 %) 8,5 pers.
Benedick
Friar Francis
1 l. (3 %) 1 répl. 0,7 l.
32 l. (98 %) 5 répl. 6,2 l.
2 sc. 32 l. (2 %) 8,3 pers.
Benedick
Leonato
19 l. (44 %) 10 répl. 1,9 l.
25 l. (57 %) 8 répl. 3,1 l.
5 sc. 43 l. (3 %) 7,6 pers.
Benedick
Margaret
10 l. (60 %) 8 répl. 1,2 l.
7 l. (40 %) 7 répl. 0,9 l.
2 sc. 16 l. (1 %) 10,3 pers.
Benedick
Messenger
5 l. (75 %) 2 répl. 2,2 l.
2 l. (26 %) 1 répl. 1,5 l.
1 sc. 6 l. (1 %) 9,0 pers.
Benedick
Don Pedro
114 l. (74 %) 24 répl. 4,7 l.
42 l. (27 %) 27 répl. 1,5 l.
6 sc. 155 l. (9 %) 8,7 pers.
Hero
Claudio
5 l. (22 %) 5 répl. 0,9 l.
17 l. (79 %) 8 répl. 2,1 l.
2 sc. 21 l. (2 %) 8,3 pers.
Hero
Friar Francis
6 l. (80 %) 3 répl. 2,0 l.
2 l. (21 %) 2 répl. 0,8 l.
1 sc. 7 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Hero
Leonato
1 l. (38 %) 1 répl. 0,8 l.
2 l. (63 %) 2 répl. 0,6 l.
2 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Hero
Margaret
14 l. (39 %) 6 répl. 2,3 l.
22 l. (62 %) 9 répl. 2,4 l.
2 sc. 35 l. (2 %) 4,0 pers.
Hero
Don Pedro
8 l. (39 %) 7 répl. 1,1 l.
13 l. (62 %) 6 répl. 2,1 l.
3 sc. 20 l. (2 %) 9,9 pers.
Hero
Ursula
47 l. (69 %) 14 répl. 3,4 l.
22 l. (32 %) 13 répl. 1,7 l.
2 sc. 68 l. (4 %) 4,0 pers.
Borachio
Conrade
23 l. (69 %) 10 répl. 2,3 l.
11 l. (32 %) 11 répl. 1,0 l.
1 sc. 33 l. (2 %) 5,0 pers.
Borachio
Kemp
1 l. (15 %) 3 répl. 0,3 l.
6 l. (86 %) 3 répl. 1,8 l.
1 sc. 6 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Borachio
Leonato
2 l. (15 %) 2 répl. 0,6 l.
7 l. (86 %) 3 répl. 2,2 l.
1 sc. 8 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Borachio
Don Pedro
13 l. (81 %) 2 répl. 6,5 l.
4 l. (20 %) 2 répl. 1,6 l.
1 sc. 16 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Borachio
Watchman
13 l. (78 %) 4 répl. 3,2 l.
4 l. (23 %) 4 répl. 0,9 l.
1 sc. 16 l. (1 %) 5,0 pers.
Claudio
Leonato
45 l. (46 %) 27 répl. 1,7 l.
54 l. (55 %) 24 répl. 2,2 l.
6 sc. 98 l. (6 %) 8,7 pers.
Claudio
Lord
2 l. (84 %) 2 répl. 0,6 l.
1 l. (17 %) 1 répl. 0,2 l.
1 sc. 1 l. (1 %) 3,0 pers.
Claudio
Don Pedro
60 l. (42 %) 49 répl. 1,2 l.
86 l. (59 %) 53 répl. 1,6 l.
8 sc. 144 l. (9 %) 8,5 pers.
Conrade
Keeper
1 l. (17 %) 1 répl. 0,8 l.
4 l. (84 %) 1 répl. 3,8 l.
1 sc. 5 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Conrade
Kemp
1 l. (44 %) 1 répl. 0,5 l.
1 l. (57 %) 1 répl. 0,7 l.
1 sc. 1 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Conrade
Watchman
1 l. (13 %) 1 répl. 0,3 l.
2 l. (88 %) 2 répl. 1,0 l.
1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 5,0 pers.
Cowley
Kemp
1 l. (5 %) 1 répl. 0,7 l.
14 l. (96 %) 2 répl. 6,7 l.
1 sc. 14 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Friar Francis
Leonato
18 l. (45 %) 6 répl. 3,0 l.
23 l. (56 %) 10 répl. 2,2 l.
2 sc. 40 l. (3 %) 8,3 pers.
Verges
Leonato
2 l. (71 %) 3 répl. 0,5 l.
1 l. (30 %) 1 répl. 0,7 l.
2 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 7,4 pers.
Kemp
Sexton
4 l. (50 %) 3 répl. 1,3 l.
4 l. (51 %) 3 répl. 1,3 l.
1 sc. 8 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Kemp
Watchman
2 l. (31 %) 1 répl. 2,0 l.
5 l. (70 %) 3 répl. 1,6 l.
1 sc. 7 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Leonato
Messenger
9 l. (44 %) 7 répl. 1,3 l.
12 l. (57 %) 7 répl. 1,7 l.
2 sc. 21 l. (2 %) 7,4 pers.
Leonato
Don Pedro
34 l. (43 %) 23 répl. 1,5 l.
46 l. (58 %) 24 répl. 1,9 l.
7 sc. 79 l. (5 %) 8,5 pers.
Margaret
Ursula
1 l. (80 %) 1 répl. 0,3 l.
1 l. (21 %) 1 répl. 0,1 l.
1 sc. 0 l. (1 %) 4,0 pers.
Sexton
Watchman
1 l. (83 %) 3 répl. 0,3 l.
1 l. (18 %) 1 répl. 0,2 l.
1 sc. 1 l. (1 %) 8,0 pers.
Watchman 3 l. (100 %) 1 répl. 2,4 l. 1 sc. 2 l. (1 %) 1,0 pers.

Much Adoe about Nothing from Mr. William Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies. Published according to the true originall copies.

Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies

Bodleian First Folio, Arch. G c.7

Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Heminge, John, approximately 1556-1630 Condell, Henry, -1627

Autres contributions

Droeshout, Martin, 1601- : engraver.
Jaggard, Isaac, -1627 : printer.
Blount, Edward, fl. 1594-1632 : printer.
Jaggard, William, 1569-1623 : publisher.
Smethwicke, John, -1641 : publisher.
Aspley, William, -1640 : publisher.
Bodleian Digital Library Systems and Services : creation of electronic edition.
Invida Trans It Solutions PVT. LTD. : preliminary keying and encoding by.
Pip Willcox : project management ; proofing ; encoding.
Lucienne Cummings : proofing ; encoding.
Judith Siefring : proofing ; encoding.
Emma Stanford : proofing ; encoding.
James Cummings : encoding consultation.
Sprint for Shakespeare Crowdfunding The second phase of the Bodleian First Folio project was made possible by a lead gift from Dr Geoffrey Eibl-Kaye and generous support from the Sallie Dickson Memorial Fund/Dallas Shakespeare Club Fund, Mr James Barber, and a private individual. The Bodleian Libraries are very grateful for this additional support, which brings new features to the digitized First Folio, enabling more efficient and intuitive use for all with an interest in Shakespeare, early modern drama, theatre and book history. First publication edition. Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford Bodleian Digital Library Systems and Services
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Available for reuse, according to the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported.

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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Mr. William Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies.: Published according to the true originall copies.Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragediesFirst FolioLondon, England: William Jaggard, Edward Blount, John SmethwickeBodleian Library, Arch. G c.7S111228015592789
United Kingdom, Oxford, University of Oxford, Bodleian Library, Bodleian Library, Arch. G c.7, S 2.17 Art. [first Bodleian shelfmark, 1624-1664?], Arch. F c.13 [superscript z?] [second Bodleian shelfmark, 1906-?].
Mr VVILLIAM
SHAKESPEARES
COMEDIES,
HISTORIES, &
TRAGEDIES.
Publiſhed according to the True Originall Copies.
London : Printed by Isaac Iaggard, and Ed. Blount [at the charges of W. Iaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley]., .
349 x 323.

[18], 303, [1], 46, 49-100, [2], 69-232, [2], 79-80, [26], 76, 79-82, 80-98, [2], 109-156, 257-993 [i.e. 399], [1] p.; fol.

Numbering peculiarities: 1st count: p.50 misnumbered 58; p.59 misnumbered 51; p.86 misnumbered 88; p.153 misnumbered 151; p.161 misnumbered] 163; p.164 misnumbered 162; p. 165 misnumbered 163; p. 189 misnumbered 187; p. 249 misnumbered 251; p.250 misnumbered 252; p. 265 misnumbered 273 -- 2nd count: p.37 misnumbered 39 in some copies; p.89 misnumbered 91; p. 90 misnumbered 92 -- 3rd count: p.165-166 numbered 167 and 168 respectively; p. 216 numbered 218 -- 5th count: p. 279 misnumbered 259; p. 282 misnumbered 280; p.308 misnumbered 38; p. 379 misnumbered 389; p. 399 misnumbered 993.

The signatures varies between sources, with the most commonly cited being Hinman's and West's: 1. Hinman: πA⁶ (πA1+1) [πB²], ²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ χgg⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ χ1.2 [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ aa-ff⁶ gg² Gg⁶ hh⁶ kk-bbb⁶; 2. West: πA⁶ (πA1+1, πA5+1.2)²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ ²g⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ 'gg3.4' (±'gg3') [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ 2a-2f⁶ 2g² 2G⁶ 2h⁶ 2k-2v⁶ x⁶ 2y-3b⁶.

Mis-signed leaves: a3 mis-signed Aa3; ³gg1 mis-signed Gg; nn1-nn2 mis-signed Nn and Nn2 and oo1 mis-signed Oo.

"The life and death of King Iohn" begins new pagination on leaf a1 recto; "The tragedy of Coriolanus" begins new pagination on leaf aa1 recto.

Lacks A1, the letterpress frontispiece entitled "To the reader". The title page is trimmed and mounted, with a section of the mount towards the foot of the leaf mutilated resulting in the loss of some the Droechout imprint at the bottom left hand corner of the portrait and the central section of an early MS note. For a full condition report, including a full survey of damage and repairs, please contact Rare Books.

Predominantly printed in double columns.

Text within simple lined frame.

Colophon reads: "Printed at the charges of W. Iaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley. 1623.".

Editors’ dedication signed: Iohn Heminge. Henry Condell.

Head- and tail- pieces; initials.With an engraved title-page portrait of the author signed: "Martin- Droeshout: sculpsit· London.". The plate exists in 2 states: 1. The earlier state has lighter shading generall ; 2. Later state has heavier shading, especially around the collar, and minor differences particularly with the jawline and moustache. The vast majority of surviving copies have the plate in the second state which has led some scholars to conclude that the earlier state was a proof. The portrait in this copy is the second state.

Two MS verses on first endpaper verso: 1. 9 lines of verse by an unknown author, first line reads "An active swain to make a leap was seen". 2. A copy of Ben Jonson’s printed "To the Reader"; MS note on t.p. (mutilated) appears to read "Honest [Shakes]peare". Minor annotations on leaf 2n4 (Macbeth). All in an early English hand, presumably added after leaving the Library.

Seventeenth-century (1624) English (Oxford) smooth calf. Bound for the Bodleian Library by William Wildgoose, with evidence of two cloth ties, red sprinkled edge. Formerly chained, with evidence of chain staple at the head of the upper cover. Remains of paper label at the head of the spine. Enclosed in 20th century book box by Maltby of Oxford. See S. Gibson in Original Bodleian Copy of First Folio, p. 12-13. One of four items sent out on 17th February 1624 for binding by Wildgoose containing printed waste from a copy of Cicero’s "De Officiis, et al." [Deventer: Richard Pafraet, between 1480 and 1485] as paste-downs. For more information on this work see: Bod. Inc. Cat., C-322.

For further details on the printing of this item see Hinman, Charleton. The printing and proof-reading of the First Folio of Shakespeare: Oxford, 1963.

Acquired by the Bodleian in 1623, presumably in sheets. It was sent out to William Wildgoose on for binding (see: Library Records e.258, fol. 48r) and upon its return chained in Duke Humfrey at shelfmark S 2.17 Art. It is listed in the Bodleian’s catalogue of printed books but was gone by the publication of the next catalogue in , replaced by the newer Third Folio (). There is no explicit reference in Library Records to the disposal of this copy, but there is a record of a sale of "superfluous library books" to Richard Davis, a bookseller in Oxford, in for the sum of £24.

After leaving the Bodleian this copy entered the collection of Richard Turbutt of Ogston Hall, Derbyshire at some point in the early 18th century. It stayed in the family’s possession until , when it was reacquired by the Bodleian for the sum of £3000, raised by public subscription. For a full discussion of the rediscovery and purchase of this copy see: F. Madan, G. M. R. Turbutt and S. Gibson, The Original Bodleian Copy of the First Folio of Shakespeare (theTurbutt Shakespeare) (Oxford, 1905)

For a full discussion of this copy and the digital version see http://shakespeare.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/ and West and Rasmussen (2011), 31.

Digital facsimile images available at: http://firstfolio.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/.
Dogberry, A constable Andrew. Con. Dog. Con. Do. Con. Con Const. Const. Dog. Dog. Dogb. Antonio, Leonato's brother Ant. Anth. Brot. Broth. Brother. Old. Bro. Balthasar, Attendant on Don Pedro Balt. Balth. Don John, The prince's bastard brother Bast. Bastard. Basta. Ioh. Iohn. Beatrice, Niece to Leonato Bea. Beat. Beatr. Beatrice. Benedick, A young lord of Padua Ben. Bene. Bened. Hero, Daughter to Leonato Bero. Her. Hero. Borachio, Follower of Don Juan Bor. Bora. Borachio. Boy Boy. Claudio, A young lord of Florence Cla. Clau. Claud. Claudio. Conrade, Follower of Don Juan Conr. Cowley Couley. Cowley. Friar Francis Fran. Fri. Frier. Verges, A headborough Head. Headb. Ver. Verg. Verges. erges. Keeper Kee. Keeper. Kemp (Sexton) Kem. Kemp. Leonato, Governor of Messina Leo. Leon. Leona. Leonato. Lord Lo. Lord. Margaret, Gentlewoman attending on Hero Mar. Marg. Marga. Messenger Mess. Messen. Messenger. Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon Ped. Pedr. Pedro. Pri. Prin. Princ. Prince. Sexton Sex. Sext. Sexton. Ursula, Gentlewoman attending on Hero Vrs. Vrsu. Vrsula. rsu. rsula. Watchman Watch Watch.
[p. 101]

Much adoe about Nothing.

Actus primus, Scena prima.

[Act 1, Scene 1]

Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, He­
ro his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.

Leonato.

1I Learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arra­ [l. 2] gon, comes this night to Messina.

Mess.

3He is very neere by this: he was not [l. 4] three Leagues off when I left him.

Leon.

5How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this [l. 6] action?

Mess.

7But few of any sort, and none of name.

Leon.

8A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer [l. 9] brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Pe­ [l. 10] ter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, cal­ [l. 11] led Claudio.

Mess.

12Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remem­ [l. 13] bred by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the [l. 14] promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the [l. 15] feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expecta­ [l. 16] tion, then you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leo.

17He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very [l. 18] much glad of it.

Mess.

19I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there [l. 20] appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could not [l. 21] shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bit­ [l. 22] ternesse.

Leo.

23Did he breake out into teares?

Mess.

24In great measure.

Leo.

25A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no fa­ [l. 26] ces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much bet­ [l. 27] ter is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping?

Bea.

28I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from [l. 29] the warres, or no?

Mess.

30I know none of that name, Lady, there was [l. 31] none such in the armie of any sort.

Leon.

32What is he that you aske for Neece?

Hero.

33My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua

Mess.

34O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was.

Beat.

35He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd [l. 36] Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the [l. 37] Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at [l. 38] the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and [l. 39] eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for [l. 40] indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing.

Leon.

41'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too [l. 42] much, but hee'l be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Mess.

43He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars.

Beat.

44You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to [l. 45] ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher‑man, hee hath an [l. 46] excellent stomacke.

Mess.

47And a good souldier too Lady.

Beat.

48And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he [l. 49] to a Lord?

Mess.

50A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with [l. 51] all honourable vertues.

Beat.

52It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: [l. 53] but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall.

Leon.

54You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is [l. 55] a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her: [l. 56] they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between [l. 57] them.

Bea.

58Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last con­ [l. 59] flict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is [l. 60] the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue [l. 61] wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it [l. 62] for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it [l. 63] is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reaso- [l. 64] nable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath [l. 65] euery month a new sworne brother.

Mess.

66I'st Is't possible?

Beat.

67Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as [l. 68] the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with yͤ next block.

Mess.

69I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your [l. 70] bookes.

Bea.

71No, and he were, I would burne my study. But [l. 72] I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young [l. 73] squarer now,[.]that will make a voyage with him to the [l. 74] diuell?

Mess.

75He is most in the company of the right noble [l. 76] Claudio.

Beat.

77O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease: [l. 78] he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker [l. 79] runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee [l. 80] haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand [l. 81] pound ere he be cur'd.

Mess.

82I will hold friends with you Lady.

Bea.

83Do good friend.

Leo.

84You'l ne're run mad Neece.

Bea.

85No, not till a hot Ianuary.

Mess.

86Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar,
and Iohn the bastard.

Pedro.

87Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet [l. 88] your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost, [l. 89] and you encounter it.

Leon.

90Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes [l. 91] of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should [l. 92] remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, [l. 93] and happinesse takes his leaue.

I3 Pedro. [p. 102] Much adoe about Nothing.

Pedro.

94You embrace your charge too willingly: I [l. 95] thinke this is your daughter.

Leonato.

96Her mother hath many times told me so.

Bened.

97Were you in doubt that you askt her?

Leonato.

98Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a [l. 99] childe.

Pedro.

100You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by [l. 101] this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers [l. 102] her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable [l. 103] father.

Ben.

104If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not [l. 105] haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him [l. 106] as she is.

Beat.

107I wonder that you will still be talking, signior [l. 108] Benedicke, no body markes you.

Ben.

109What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet [l. 110] liuing?

Beat.

111Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee [l. 112] hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke? [l. 113] Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in [l. 114] her presence.

Bene.

115Then is curtesie a turneȑcoate, but it is cer­ [l. 116] taine I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and [l. 117] I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard [l. 118] heart, for truely I loue none.

Beat.

119A deere happinesse to women, they would else [l. 120] haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke [l. 121] God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I [l. 122] had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man [l. 123] sweare he loues me.

Bene.

124God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde, [l. 125] so[.] some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate [l. 126] scratcht face.

Beat.

127Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere [l. 128] such a face as yours were.

Bene.

129Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher.

Beat.

130A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of [l. 131] your.

Ben.

132I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, [l. 133] and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods [l. 134] name, I haue done.

Beat.

135You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know [l. 136] you of old.

Pedro.

137This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Clau­ [l. 138] dio, and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath [l. 139] inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least [l. 140] a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may de­ [l. 141] taine vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, [l. 142] but praies from his heart.

Leon.

143If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be for­ [l. 144] sworne, let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being re­ [l. 145] conciled to the Prince your brother: I owe you all [l. 146] duetie.

Iohn.

147I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I [l. 148] thanke you.

Leon.

149Please it your grace leade on?

Pedro.

150Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

Clau.

151Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of sig­ [l. 152] nior Leonato?

Bene.

153I noted her not, but I lookt on her.

Claud.

154Is she not a modest yong Ladie?

Bene.

155Doe you question me as an honest man should [l. 156] doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue [l. 157] me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant [l. 158] to their sexe?

Clau.

159No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement.

Bene.

160Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie [l. 161] praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a [l. 162] great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her, [l. 163] that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome, [l. 164] and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her.

Clau.

165Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me [l. 166] truely how thou lik'st her.

Bene.

167Would you buie her, that you enquier after [l. 168] her?

Clau.

169Can the world buie such a iewell?

Ben.

170Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this [l. 171] with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to [l. 172] tell vs Cupid is a good Hare‑finder, and Vulcan a rare [l. 173] Carpenter: Come, in what key shall aman a man take you to [l. 174] goe in the song?

Clau.

175In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer [l. 176] I lookt on.

Bene.

177I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no [l. 178] such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest [l. 179] with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first [l. 180] of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue [l. 181] no intent to turne husband, haue you?

Clau.

182I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had [l. 183] sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife.

Bene.

184Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one [l. 185] man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I ne­ [l. 186] uer see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith, [l. 187] and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare [l. 188] the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro [l. 189] is returned to seeke you.

Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.

Pedr.

190What secret hath held you here, that you fol­ [l. 191] lowed not to Leonatoes?

Bened.

192I would your Grace would constraine mee to [l. 193] tell.

Pedro.

194I charge thee on thy allegeance.

Ben.

195You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a [l. 196] dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my al­ [l. 197] legiance, marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in [l. 198] loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke [l. 199] how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short [l. 200] daughter.

Clau.

201If this were so, so were it vttred.

Bened.

202Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas [l. 203] not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so.

Clau.

204If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it [l. 205] should be otherwise.

Pedro.

206Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie [l. 207] well worthie.

Clau.

208You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord.

Pedr.

209By my troth I speake my thought.

Clau.

210And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine.

Bened.

211And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I [l. 212] speake mine.

Clau.

213That I loue her, I feele.

Pedr.

214That she is worthie, I know.

Bened.

215That I neither feele how shee should be lo­ [l. 216] ued, nor know how shee should be worthie, is the [l. 217] opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at [l. 218] the stake.

Pedr.

219Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the de­ [l. 220] spight of Beautie.

Clau.

221And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the [l. 222] force of his will.

Bene. That [p. 103] Much adoe about Nothing.

Ben.

223That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that [l. 224] she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble [l. 225] thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my [l. 226] forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all [l. 227] women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the [l. 228] wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to [l. 229] trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the [l. 230] finer) I will liue a Batchellor.

Pedro.

231I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue.

Bene.

232With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger, [l. 233] my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more [l. 234] blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking, [l. 235] picke out mine eyes with a Ballet‑makers penne, and [l. 236] hang me vp at the doore of a brothel‑house for the signe [l. 237] of blinde Cupid.

Pedro.

238Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith, [l. 239] thou wilt proue a notable argument.

Bene.

240If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot [l. 241] at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoul­ [l. 242] der, and cal'd Adam.

Pedro.

243Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage [l. 244] Bull doth beare tne the yoake.

Bene.

245The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible [l. 246] Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set [l. 247] them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and [l. 248] in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse [l. 249] to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may [l. 250] see Benedicke the married man.

Clau.

251If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee [l. 252] horne mad.

Pedro.

253Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in [l. 254] Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.

Bene.

255I looke for an earthquake too then.

Pedro.

256Well, you will temporize with the houres, in [l. 257] the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leo­ [l. 258] natoes, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile [l. 259] him at supper, for indeede he hath made great prepara­ [l. 260] tion.

Bene.

261I haue almost matter enough in me for such an [l. 262] Embassage, and so I commit you.

Clau.

263To the tuition of God. From my house, if I [l. 264] had it.

Pedro.

265The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick.

Bene.

266Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your [l. 267] discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the [l. 268] guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout [l. 269] old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I [l. 270] leaue you.

Exit.

Clau.

My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee
good.

Pedro.

My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne
Any hard Lesson that may do thee good.

Clau.

275 Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord?

Pedro.

No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire.
Dost thou affect her Claudio?

Clau.

O my Lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
280 I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand,
Than to driue liking to the name of loue:
But now I am return'd, and that warre‑thoughts
Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes,
285 Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres.

Pedro.

Thou wilt be like a louer presently,
And tire the hearer with a booke of words:
290 If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I will breake with her: wast not to this end,
That thou beganft st to twist so fine a story?

Clau.

How sweetly doe you minister to loue,
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
295 But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise.

Ped.

What need yͤ bridge much broder then the flood?
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:
Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest,
300 And I will fit thee with the remedie,
I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart,
305 And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine,
In practise let vs put it presently.
Exeunt.

[Act 1, Scene 2]

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

Leo.

310How now brother, where is my cosen your son: [l. 311] hath he prouided this musicke?

Old.

312He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell [l. 313] you newes that you yet dreamt not of.

Lo.

314Are they good?

Old.

315As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good [l. 316] couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count [l. 317] Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard, [l. 318] were thus ouer‑heard by a man of mine: the Prince dis­ [l. 319] couered to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daugh­ [l. 320] ter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance; [l. 321] and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the [l. 322] present time by the top, and instantly breake with you [l. 323] of it.

Leo.

324Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?

Old.

325A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and [l. 326] question him your selfe.

Leo.

327No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it ap­ [l. 328] peare it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall, [l. 329] that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if per­ [l. 330] aduenture this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coo­ [l. 331] sins, you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mer­ [l. 332] cie friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill, [l. 333] good cosin haue a care this busie time.

Exeunt.

[Act 1, Scene 3]

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.

Con.

334What the good yeere my Lord, why are you [l. 335] thus out of measure sad?

Ioh.

336There is no measure in the occasion that breeds, [l. 337] therefore the sadnesse is without limit.

Con.

338You should heare reason.

Iohn.

339And when I haue heard it, what blessing brin­ [l. 340] geth it?

Con.

341If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance.

Ioh.

342I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art, [l. 343] borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall me­ [l. 344] dicine, to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I [l. 345] am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no [l. 346] mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no [l. 347] mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no [l. 348] mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man [l. 349] in his humor.

Con.

350Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this, [l. 351] till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of late [p. 104] Much adoe about Nothing. [l. 352] late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane [l. 353] you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you [l. 354] should take root, but by the faire weather that you make [l. 355] your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your [l. 356] owne haruest.

Iohn.

357I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose [l. 358] in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of [l. 359] all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this [l. 360] (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man) [l. 361] it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I [l. 362] am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog, [l. 363] therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had [l. 364] my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do [l. 365] my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and [l. 366] seeke not to alter me.

Con.

367Can you make no vse of your discontent?

Iohn.

368I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely.

369Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

Bor.

370I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince [l. 371] your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can [l. 372] giue you intelligence of an intended marriage.

Iohn.

373Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe [l. 374] on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to [l. 375] vnquietnesse?

Bor.

376Mary it is your brothers right hand.

Iohn.

377Who, the most exquisite Claudio?

Bor.

378Euen he.

Iohn.

379A proper squier, and who, and who, which way lookes he?

Bor.

380Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leo­ [l. 381] nato.

Iohn.

382A very forward March‑chicke, how came you [l. 383] to this?

Bor.

384Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoa­ [l. 385] king a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio, [l. 386] hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Ar­ [l. 387] ras, and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should [l. 388] wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue [l. 389] her to Count Claudio.

Iohn.

390Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food [l. 391] to my displeasure, that young start‑vp hath all the glorie [l. 392] of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse [l. 393] my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist [l. 394] mee?

Conr.

395To the death my Lord.

Iohn.

396Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the [l. 397] greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my [l. 398] minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done?

Bor.

399Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

[Act 2, Scene 1]

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and
Beatrice his neece, and a kinsman.

Leonato.

400Was not Count Iohn here at supper?

Brother.

401I saw him not.

Beatrice.

402How tartly that Gentleman lookes, I neuer [l. 403] can see him, but I am heart‑burn'd an howre after.

Hero.

404He is of a very melancholy disposition.

Beatrice.

405Hee were an excellent man that were made [l. 406] iust in the mid‑way betweene him and Benedicke, the one [l. 407] is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too [l. 408] like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling.

Leon.

409Then halfe signior Benedicks tongue in Count [l. 410] Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Sig­ [l. 411] nior Benedicks face.

Beat.

412With a good legge, and a good foot vnckle, and [l. 413] money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any [l. 414] woman in the world, if he could get her good will.

Leon.

415By my troth Neece, thou wilt neuer get thee a [l. 416] husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.

Brother.

417Infaith shee's too curst.

Beat.

418Too curst is more then curst, I shall lessen Gods [l. 419] sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow [l. 420] short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none.

Leon.

421So, by being too curst, God will send you no [l. 422] hornes.

Beat.

423Iust, if he send me no husband, for the which [l. 424] blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning [l. 425] and euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a [l. 426] beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen.

Leonato.

427You may light vpon a husband that hath no [l. 428] beard.

Beatrice.

429What should I doe with him? Dresse him in [l. 430] my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he [l. 431] that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath [l. 432] no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a [l. 433] youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am [l. 434] not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in ear­ [l. 435] nest of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell.

Leon.

436Well then, goe you into hell.

Beat.

437No, but to the gate, and there will the Deuill [l. 438] meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head, [l. 439] and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen, [l. 440] heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes, [l. 441] and away to SaintS. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee [l. 442] where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as [l. 443] the day is long.

Brother.

444Well neece, I trust you will be rul'd by your [l. 445] father.

Beatrice.

446Yes faith, it is my cosens dutie to make curt­ [l. 447] sie, and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let [l. 448] him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie, [l. 449] and say, father, as it please me.

Leonato.

450Well neece, I hope to see you one day fitted [l. 451] with a husband.

Beatrice.

452Not till God make men of some other met­ [l. 453] tall then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouer‑ [l. 454] mastred with a peece of valiant dust? to make account of [l. 455] her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none: [l. 456] Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne [l. 457] to match in my kinred.

Leon.

458Daughter, remember what I told you, if the [l. 459] Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your an­ [l. 460] swere.

Beatrice.

461The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you [l. 462] be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too impor­ [l. 463] tant, tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance [l. 464] out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, & [l. 465] repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinque‑pace: [l. 466] the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch ijgge [l. 467] (and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest, [l. 468] (as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes [l. 469] repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque­ [l. 470] pace faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue.

Leonato. [p. 105] Much adoe about Nothing.

Leonato.

471Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly.

Beatrice.

472I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church [l. 473] by daylight.

Leon.

474The reuellers are entring brother, make good [l. 475] roome.

Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar,
or dumbe Iohn, Maskers with a drum.

Pedro.

476Lady, will you walke about with your friend?

Hero.

477So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say [l. 478] nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I [l. 479] walke away.

Pedro.

480With me in your company.

Hero.

481I may say so when I please.

Pedro.

482And when please you to say so?

Hero.

483When I like your fauour, for God defend the [l. 484] Lute should be like the case.

Pedro.

485My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house [l. 486] is Loue.

Hero.

487Why then your visor should be thatcht.

Pedro.

488Speake low if you speake Loue.

Bene.

489Well, I would you did like me.

Mar.

490So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue [l. 491] manie ill qualities.

Bene.

492Which is one?

Mar.

493I say my prayers alowd.

Ben.

494I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen.

Mar.

495God match me with a good dauncer.

Balt.

496Amen.

Mar.

497And God keepe him out of my sight when the [l. 498] daunce is done: answer Clarke.

Balt.

499No more words, the Clarke is answered.

Vrsula.

500I know you well enough, you are Signior An­ [l. 501] thonio.

Anth.

502At a word, I am not.

Vrsula.

503I know you by the wagling of your head.

Anth.

504To tell you true, I counterfet him.

Vrsu.

505You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse [l. 506] you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down, [l. 507] you are he, you are he.

Anth.

508At a word I am not.

Vrsula.

509Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know [l. 510] you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe [l. 511] to, mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's [l. 512] an end.

Beat.

513Will you not tell me who told you so?

Bene.

514No, you shall pardon me.

Beat.

515Nor will you not tell me who you are?

Bened.

516Not now.

Beat.

517That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good [l. 518] wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signi­ [l. 519] or Benedicke that said so.

Bene.

520What's he?

Beat.

521I am sure you know him well enough.

Bene.

522Not I, beleeue me.

Beat.

523Did he neuer make you laugh?

Bene.

524I pray you what is he?

Beat.

525Why he is the Princes ieaster, a very dull foole, [l. 526] onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none [l. 527] but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is [l. 528] not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth [l. 529] men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and [l. 530] beat him: I am sure he is in the Fleet, I would he had [l. 531] boorded me.

Bene.

532When I know the Gentleman, Ile tell him what [l. 533] you say.

Beat.

534Do, do, hee'l but breake a comparison or two [l. 535] on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd [l. 536] at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Par­ [l. 537] tridge wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that [l. 538] night. We must follow the Leaders.

Ben.

539In euery good thing.

Bea.

540Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them [l. 541] at the next turning.

Exeunt.
Musicke for the dance.

Iohn.

542Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath [l. 543] withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the [l. 544] Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines.

Borachio.

545And that is Claudio, I know him by his bea­ [l. 546] ring.

Iohn.

547Are not you signior Benedicke?

Clau.

548You know me well, I am hee.

Iohn.

549Signior, you are verie neere my Brother in his [l. 550] loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him [l. 551] from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the [l. 552] part of an honest man in it.

Claudio.

553How know you he loues her?

Iohn.

554I heard him sweare his affection,

Bor.

555So did I too, and he swore he would marrie her [l. 556] to night.

Iohn.

557Come, let vs to the banquet.

Ex. manet Clau.

Clau.

Thus answere I in name of Benedicke,
But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio:
560 'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe:
Friendship is constant in all other things,
Saue in the Office and affaires of loue:
Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues.
Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe,
565 And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch,
Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood:
This is an accident of hourely proofe,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero.
Enter Benedicke.

Ben.

569Count Claudio.

Clau.

570Yea, the same.

Ben.

571Come, will you goe with me?

Clau.

572Whither?

Ben.

573Euen to the next Willow, about your own bu­ [l. 574] sinesse, Count. What fashion will you weare the Gar­ [l. 575] land off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or [l. 576] vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must [l. 577] weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.

Clau.

578I wish him ioy of her.

Ben.

579Why that's spoken like an honest Drouier, so [l. 580] they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold [l. 581] haue serued you thus?

Clau.

582I pray you leaue me.

Ben.

583Ho now you strike like the blindman, 'twas the [l. 584] boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post.

Clau.

585If it will not be, Ile leaue you.

Exit.

Ben.

586Alas poore hurt fowle, now will he creepe into [l. 587] sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, & [l. 588] not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe [l. 589] vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am [l. 590] apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the [l. 591] base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's [l. 592] the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile [l. 593] be reuenged as I may.

Enter the Prince.

Pedro.

594Now Signior, where's the Count, did you [l. 595] see him?

Ben [p. 106] Much adoe about Nothing.

Bene.

596Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady [l. 597] Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a [l. 598] Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your [l. 599] grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered [l. 600] him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a [l. 601] garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as be­ [l. 602] ing worthy to be whipt.

Pedro.

603To be whipt, what's his fault?

Bene.

604The flat transgression of a Schoole‑boy, who [l. 605] being ouer‑ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his [l. 606] companion, and he steales it.

Pedro.

607Wilt thou make a trust, a transgression? the [l. 608] transgression is in the stealer.

Ben.

609Yet it had not been amisse the rod had beene [l. 610] made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue [l. 611] worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on [l. 612] you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest.

Pedro.

613I will but teach them to sing, and restore them [l. 614] to the owner.

Bene.

615If their singing answer your saying, by my faith [l. 616] you say honestly.

Pedro.

617The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the [l. 618] Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much [l. 619] wrong'd by you.

Bene.

620O she misusde me past the indurance of a block: [l. 621] an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue an­ [l. 622] swered her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold [l. 623] with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my [l. 624] selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller [l. 625] then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such im­ [l. 626] possible conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a [l. 627] marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes [l. 628] poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were [l. 629] as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere [l. 630] her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not [l. 631] marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam [l. 632] had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made [l. 633] Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to [l. 634] make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde [l. 635] her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God [l. 636] some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she [l. 637] is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary, [l. 638] and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe [l. 639] thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation [l. 640] followes her.

Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

Pedro.

641Looke heere she comes.

Bene.

642Will your Grace command mee any seruice to [l. 643] the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now [l. 644] to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I [l. 645] will fetch you a tooth‑picker now from the furthest inch [l. 646] of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch [l. 647] you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any em­ [l. 648] bassage to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words [l. 649] conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment for me?

Pedro.

650None, but to desire your good company.

Bene.

651O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot in­ [l. 652] dure this Lady tongue.

Exit.

Pedr.

653Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of [l. 654] Signior Benedicke.

Beatr.

655Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I [l. 656] gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry [l. 657] once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore [l. 658] your Grace may well say I haue lost it.

Pedro.

659You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put [l. 660] him downe.

Beat.

661So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest [l. 662] I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought [l. 663] Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke.

Pedro.

664Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad?

Claud.

665Not sad my Lord.

Pedro.

666How then? sicke?

Claud.

667Neither, my Lord.

Beat.

668The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry, [l. 669] nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and some­ [l. 670] thing of a iealous complexion.

Pedro.

671Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true, [l. 672] though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false: [l. 673] heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero [l. 674] is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will [l. 675] obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue [l. 676] thee ioy.

Leona.

677Count, take of me my daughter, and with her [l. 678] my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace [l. 679] say, Amen to it.

Beatr.

680Speake Count, tis your Qu.

Claud.

681Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were [l. 682] but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you [l. 683] are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and [l. 684] doat vpon the exchange.

Beat.

685Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth [l. 686] with a kisse, and let not him speake neither.

Pedro.

687Infaith Lady you haue a merry heart.

Beatr.

688Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes [l. 689] on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare [l. 690] that he is in my heart.

Clau.

691And so she doth coosin.

Beat.

692Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one [l. 693] to the world but I, and I am sun‑burn'd, I may sit in a cor­ [l. 694] ner and cry, heigh ho for a husband.

Pedro.

695Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

Beat.

696I would rather haue one of your fathers getting: [l. 697] hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father [l. 698] got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

Prince.

699Will you haue me? Lady.

Beat.

700No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for [l. 701] working‑daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie [l. 702] day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne [l. 703] to speake all mirth, and no matter.

Prince.

704Your silence most offends me, and to be mer­ [l. 705] ry, best becomes you, for out of question, you were born [l. 706] in a merry howre.

Beatr.

707No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then [l. 708] there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: co­ [l. 709] sins God giue you ioy.

Leonato.

710Neece, will you looke to those things I told you of?

Beat.

711I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

Prince.

712By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady.

Leon.

713There's little of the melancholy element in her [l. 714] my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not [l. 715] euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath [l. 716] often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with [l. 717] laughing.

Pedro.

718Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband.

Leonato.

719O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers [l. 720] out of suite.

Prince.

721She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leonato.

722O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke married, [p. 107] Much adoe about Nothing. [l. 723] married, they would talke themselues madde.

Prince.

724Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to [l. 725] Church?

Clau.

726To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches, [l. 727] till Loue haue all his rites.

Leonata.

728Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is [l. 729] hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue [l. 730] all things answer minde.

Prince.

731Come, you shake the head at so long a brea­ [l. 732] thing, but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe [l. 733] dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Her­ [l. 734] cules labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the [l. 735] Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th'one with [l. 736] th'other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not [l. 737] but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assi­ [l. 738] stance as I shall giue you direction.

Leonata.

739My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee [l. 740] ten nights watchings.

Claud.

741And I my Lord.

Prin.

742And you to gentle Hero?

Hero.

743I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe [l. 744] my cosin to a good husband.

Prin.

745And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband [l. 746] that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble [l. 747] straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will [l. 748] teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall [l. 749] in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will [l. 750] so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke [l. 751] wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with [l. 752] Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Ar­ [l. 753] cher, his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely loue­ [l. 754] gods, goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift.

Exit.

[Act 2, Scene 2]

Enter Iohn and Borachio.

Ioh.

755It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daugh­ [l. 756] ter of Leonato.

Bora.

757Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it.

Iohn.

758Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be [l. 759] medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and [l. 760] whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly [l. 761] with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage?

Bor.

762Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no [l. 763] dishonesty shall appeare in me.

Iohn.

764Shew me breefely how.

Bor.

765I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how [l. 766] much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentle­ [l. 767] woman to Hero.

Iohn.

768I remember.

Bor.

769I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night, [l. 770] appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window.

Iohn.

771What life is in that, to be the death of this mar­ [l. 772] riage?

Bor.

773The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe [l. 774] you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that [l. 775] hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned [l. 776] Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a [l. 777] contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.

Iohn.

778What proofe shall I make of that?

Bor.

779Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe [l. 780] Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for a­ [l. 781] ny other issue?

Iohn.

782Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any [l. 783] thing.

Bor.

784Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on [l. 785] Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you [l. 786] know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both [l. 787] to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers [l. 788] honor who hath made this match) and his friends repu­ [l. 789] tation, who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance [l. 790] of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarce­ [l. 791] ly beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which [l. 792] shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her [l. 793] chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare [l. 794] Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this [l. 795] the very night before the intended wedding, for in the [l. 796] meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall [l. 797] be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of [l. 798] Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance, [l. 799] and all the preparation ouerthrowne.

Iohn.

800Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will [l. 801] put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and [l. 802] thy fee is a thousand ducats.

Bor.

803Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cun­ [l. 804] ning shall not shame me.

Iohn.

805I will presentlie goe learne their day of marri­ [l. 806] age.

Exit.

[Act 2, Scene 3]

Enter Benedicke alone.

Bene.

807Boy.

Boy.

808Signior.

Bene.

809In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it [l. 810] hither to me in the orchard.

Boy.

811I am heere already sir.

Exit.

Bene.

812I know that, but I would haue thee hence, and [l. 813] heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing [l. 814] how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his [l. 815] behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such [l. 816] shallow follies in others, become the argument of his [l. 817] owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio, [l. 818] I haue known when there was no musicke with him but [l. 819] the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the [l. 820] taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue [l. 821] walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will [l. 822] he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dub­ [l. 823] let: he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like [l. 824] an honest man & a souldier) and now is he turn'd ortho­ [l. 825] graphy, his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so [l. 826] many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with [l. 827] these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee [l. 828] sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile [l. 829] take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he [l. 830] shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet [l. 831] I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertu­ [l. 832] ous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman, [l. 833] one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall [l. 834] be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile ne­ [l. 835] uer cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde, [l. 836] or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of [l. 837] good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal [l. 838] be of what colour it please God, hah! the Prince and [l. 839] Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor.

Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Iacke Wilson.

Prin.

840 Come, shall we heare this musicke?

Claud.

Yea my good Lord: how still the euening is,
As husht on purpose to grace harmonie.

Prin.

See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe?

Clau.

O very well my Lord: the musicke ended,
845 Wee'll fit the kid‑foxe with a penny worth.

Prince.

Come Balthasar, wee'll heare that song again.

Balth.

O good my Lord, taxe not so bad a voyce,
To slander musicke any more then once.

Prin.

It is the witnesse still of excellency,
To [p. 108] Much adoe about Nothing.
850 To slander Musicke any more then once.

Prince.

It is the witnesse still of excellencie,
To put a strange face on his owne perfection,
I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more.

Balth.

Because you talke of wooing, I will sing,
855 Since many a wooer doth commence his suit,
To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he sweare he loues.

Prince.

Nay pray thee come,
Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
860 Doe it in notes.

Balth.

Note this before my notes,
Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting.

Prince.

Why these are very crotchets that he speaks,
Note notes forsooth, and nothing.

Bene.

865Now diuine aire, now is his soule rauisht, is it [l. 866] not strange that sheepes guts should hale soules out of [l. 867] mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's [l. 868] done.

The Song.
Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more,
870 Men were deceiuers euer,
One foote in Sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant neuer,
Then sigh not so, but let them goe,
And be you blithe and bonnie,
875 Conuerting all your sounds of woe,
Into hey nony nony.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heauy,
The fraud of men were euer so,
880 Since summer first was leauy,
Then sigh not so, &c.

Prince.

882By my troth a good song.

Balth.

883And an ill singer, my Lord.

Prince.

884Ha, no, no faith, thou singst well enough for a [l. 885] shift.

Ben.

886And he had been a dog that should haue howld [l. 887] thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his [l. 888] bad voyce bode no mischiefe, I had as liefe haue heard [l. 889] the night‑rauen, come what plague could haue come af­ [l. 890] ter it.

Prince.

891Yea marry, dost thou heare Balthasar? I pray [l. 892] thee get vs some excellent musick: for to morrow night [l. 893] we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window.

Balth.

894The best I can, my Lord.

Exit Balthasar.

Prince.

895Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what [l. 896] was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice [l. 897] was in loue with signior Benedicke?

Cla.

898O I, stalke on, stalke on, the foule sits. I did ne­ [l. 899] uer thinke that Lady would haue loued any man.

Leon.

900No, nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she [l. 901] should so dote on Signior Benedicke, whom shee hath in [l. 902] all outward behauiours seemed euer to abhorre.

Bene.

903Is't possible? sits the winde in that corner?

Leo.

904By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to [l. 905] thinke of it, but that she loues him with an inraged affe­ [l. 906] ction, it is past the infinite of thought.

Prince.

907May be she doth but counterfeit.

Claud.

908Faith like enough.

Leon.

909O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counter­ [l. 910] feit of passion, came so neere the life of passion as she dis­ [l. 911] couers it.

Prince.

912Why what effects of passion shewes she?

Claud.

913Baite the hooke well, this fish will bite.

Leon.

914What effects my Lord? shee will sit you, [l. 915] you heard my daughter tell you how.

Clau.

916She did indeed.

Prince.

917How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would [l. 918] haue thought her spirit had beene inuincible against all [l. 919] assaults of affection.

Leo.

920I would haue sworne it had, my Lord, especially [l. 921] against Benedicke.

Bene.

922I should thinke this a gull, but that the white‑ [l. 923] bearded fellow speakes it: knauery cannot sure hide [l. 924] himselfe in such reuerence.

Claud.

925He hath tane th'infection, hold it vp.

Prince.

926Hath shee made her affection known to Bene­ [l. 927] dicke?

Leonato.

928No, and sweares she neuer will, that's her [l. 929] torment.

Claud.

930'Tis true indeed, so your daughter saies: shall [l. 931] I, saies she, that haue so oft encountred him with scorne, [l. 932] write to him that I loue him?

Leo.

933This saies shee now when shee is beginning to [l. 934] write to him, for shee'll be vp twenty times a night, and [l. 935] there will she sit in her smocke, till she haue writ a sheet [l. 936] of paper: my daughter tells vs all.

Clau.

937Now you talke of a sheet of paper, I remember [l. 938] a pretty iest your daughter told vs of.

Leon.

939O when she had writ it, & was reading it ouer, [l. 940] she found Benedicke and Beatrice betweene the sheete.

Clau.

941That.

Leon.

942O she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, [l. 943] raild at her self, that she should be so immodest to write, [l. 944] to one that shee knew would flout her: I measure him, [l. 945] saies she, by my owne spirit, for I should flout him if hee [l. 946] writ to mee, yea though I loue him, I should.

Clau.

947Then downe vpon her knees she falls, weepes, [l. 948] sobs, beates her heart, teares her hayre, praies, curses, O [l. 949] sweet Benedicke, God giue me patience.

Leon.

950She doth indeed, my daughter saies so, and the [l. 951] extasie hath so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is [l. 952] somtime afeard she will doe a desperate out‑rage to her [l. 953] selfe, it is very true.

Prince.

954It were good that Benedicke knew of it by some [l. 955] other, if she will not discouer it.

Clau.

956To what end? he would but make a sport of it, [l. 957] and torment the poore Lady worse.

Prin.

958And he should, it were an almes to hang him, [l. 959] shee's an excellent sweet Lady, and (out of all suspition,) [l. 960] she is virtuous.

Claudio.

961And she is exceeding wise.

Prince.

962In euery thing, but in louing Benedicke.

Leon.

963O my Lord, wisedome and bloud combating in [l. 964] so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that bloud [l. 965] hath the victory, I am sorry for her, as I haue iust cause, [l. 966] being her Vncle, and her Guardian.

Prince.

967I would shee had bestowed this dotage on [l. 968] mee, I would haue daft all other respects, and made her [l. 969] halfe my selfe: I pray you tell Benedicke of it, and heare [l. 970] what he will say.

Leon.

971Were it good thinke you?

Clau.

972Hero thinkes surely she wil die, for she saies she [l. 973] will die, if hee loue her not, and shee will die ere shee [l. 974] make her loue knowne, and she will die if hee wooe her, [l. 975] rather than shee will bate one breath of her accustomed [l. 976] crossenesse.

Prince.

977She doth well, if she should make tender of her loue, [p. 109] Much adoe about Nothing. [l. 978] loue, 'tis very possible hee'l scorne it, for the man (as you [l. 979] know all) hath a contemptible spirit.

Clau.

980He is a very proper man.

Prin.

981He hath indeed a good outward happines.

Clau.

982'Fore God, and in my minde very wise.

Prin.

983He doth indeed shew some sparkes that are like [l. 984] wit.

Leon.

985And I take him to be valiant.

Prin.

986As Hector, I assure you, and in the managing of [l. 987] quarrels you may see hee is wise, for either hee auoydes [l. 988] them with great discretion, or vndertakes them with a [l. 989] Christian‑like feare.

Leon.

990If hee doe feare God, a must necessarilie keepe [l. 991] peace, if hee breake the peace, hee ought to enter into a [l. 992] quarrell with feare and trembling.

Prin.

993And so will he doe, for the man doth fear God, [l. 994] howsoeuer it seemes not in him, by some large ieasts hee [l. 995] will make: well, I am sorry for your niece, shall we goe [l. 996] see Benedicke, and tell him of her loue.

Claud.

997Neuer tell him, my Lord, let her weare it out [l. 998] with good counsell.

Leon.

999Nay that's impossible, she may weare her heart [l. 1000] out first.

Prin.

1001Well, we will heare further of it by your daugh­ [l. 1002] ter, let it coole the while, I loue Benedicke well, and I [l. 1003] could wish he would modestly examine himselfe, to see [l. 1004] how much he is vnworthy to haue so good a Lady.

Leon.

1005My Lord, will you walke? dinner is ready.

Clau.

1006If he do not doat on her vpon this, I wil neuer [l. 1007] trust my expectation.

Prin.

1008Let there be the same Net spread for her, and [l. 1009] that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry: [l. 1010] the sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of ano­ [l. 1011] ther's dotage, and no such matter, that's the Scene that I [l. 1012] would see, which will be meerely a dumbe shew: let vs [l. 1013] send her to call him into dinner.

Exeunt.

Bene.

1014This can be no tricke, the conference was sadly [l. 1015] borne, they haue the truth of this from Hero, they seeme [l. 1016] to pittie the Lady: it seemes her affections haue the full [l. 1017] bent: loue me? why it must be requited: I heare how I [l. 1018] am censur'd, they say I will beare my selfe proudly, if I [l. 1019] perceiue the loue come from her: they say too, that she [l. 1020] will rather die than giue any signe of affection: I did ne­ [l. 1021] uer thinke to marry, I must not seeme proud, happy are [l. 1022] they that heare their detractions, and can put them to [l. 1023] mending: they say the Lady is faire, 'tis a truth, I can [l. 1024] beare them witnesse: and vertuous, tis so, I cannot re­ [l. 1025] prooue it, and wise, but for louing me, by my troth it is [l. 1026] no addition to her witte, nor no great argument of her [l. 1027] folly; for I wil be horribly in loue with her, I may chance [l. 1028] haue some odde quirkes and remnants of witte broken [l. 1029] on mee, because I haue rail'd so long against marriage: [l. 1030] but doth not the appetite alter? a man loues the meat in [l. 1031] his youth, that he cannot indure in his age. Shall quips [l. 1032] and sentences, and these paper bullets of the braine awe [l. 1033] a man from the careere of his humour? No, the world [l. 1034] must be peopled. When I said I would die a batcheler, I [l. 1035] did not think I should liue till I were maried, here comes [l. 1036] Beatrice: by this day, shee's a faire Lady, I doe spie some [l. 1037] markes of loue in her.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat.

1038Against my wil I am sent to bid you come in to [l. 1039] dinner.

Bene.

1040Faire Beatrice, I thanke you for your paines.

Beat.

1041I tooke no more paines for those thankes, then [l. 1042] you take paines to thanke me, if it had been painefull, I [l. 1043] would not haue come.

Bene.

1044You take pleasure then in the message.

Beat.

1045Yea iust so much as you may take vpon a kniues [l. 1046] point, and choake a daw withall: you haue no stomacke [l. 1047] signior, fare you well.

Exit.

Bene.

1048Ha, against my will I am sent to bid you come [l. 1049] into dinner: there's a double meaning in that: I tooke [l. 1050] no more paines for those thankes then you took paines [l. 1051] to thanke me, that's as much as to say, any paines that I [l. 1052] take for you is as easie as thankes: if I do not take pitty [l. 1053] of her I am a villaine, if I doe not loue her I am a Iew, I [l. 1054] will goe get her picture.

Exit.

Actus Tertius.

[Act 3, Scene 1]

Enter Hero and two Gentlemen, Margaret, and Vrsula.

Hero.

1055 Good Margaret runne thee to the parlour,
There shalt thou finde my Cosin Beatrice,
Proposing with the Prince and Claudio,
Whisper her eare, and tell her I and Vrsula,
Walke in the Orchard, and our whole discourse
1060 Is all of her, say that thou ouer‑heardst vs,
And bid her steale into the pleached bower,
Where hony‑suckles ripened by the sunne,
Forbid the sunne to enter: like fauourites,
Made proud by Princes, that aduance their pride,
1065 Against that power that bred it, there will she hide her,
To listen our purpose, this is thy office,
Beare thee well in it, and leaue vs alone.

Marg.

Ile make her come I warrant you presently.

Hero.

Now Vrsula, when Beatrice doth come,
1070 As we do trace this alley vp and downe,
Our talke must onely be of Benedicke,
When I doe name him, let it be thy part,
To praise him more then euer man did merit,
My talke to thee must be how Benedicke
1075 Is sicke in loue with Beatrice; of this matter,
Is little Cupids crafty arrow made,
That onely wounds by heare‑say: now begin,
Enter Beatrice.
For looke where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to heare our conference.

Vrs.

1080 The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden ores the siluer streame,
And greedily deuoure the treacherous baite:
So angle we for Beatrice, who euen now,
Is couched in the wood‑bine couerture,
1085 Feare you not my part of the Dialogue.

Her.

Then go we neare her that her eare loose nothing,
Of the false sweete baite that we lay for it:
No truely Vrsula, she is too disdainfull,
I know her spirits are as coy and wilde,
1090 As Haggerds of the rocke.

Vrsula.

But are you sure,
That Benedicke loues Beatrice so intirely?

Her.

So saies the Prince, and my new trothed Lord.

Vrs.

And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?

Her.

1095 They did intreate me to acquaint her of it,
But I perswaded them, if they lou'd Benedicke,
K To [p. 110] Much adoe about Nothing.
To wish him wrastle with affection,
And neuer to let Beatrice know of it.

Vrsula.

Why did you so, doth not the Gentleman
1100 Deserue as full as fortunate a bed,
As euer Beatrice shall couch vpon?

Hero.

O God of loue! I know he doth deserue,
As much as may be yeelded to a man:
But Nature neuer fram'd a womans heart,
1105 Of prowder stuffe then that of Beatrice:
Disdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eyes,
Mis‑prizing what they looke on, and her wit
Values it selfe so highly, that to her
All matter else seemes weake: she cannot loue,
1110 Nor take no shape nor proiect of affection,
Shee is so selfe indeared.

Vrsula.

Sure I thinke so,
And therefore certainely it were not good
She knew his loue, lest she make sport at it.

Hero.

1115 Why you speake truth, I neuer yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, yong, how rarely featur'd.
But she would spell him backward: if faire fac'd,
She would sweare the gentleman should be her sister:
If blacke, why Nature drawing of an anticke,
1120 Made a foule blot: if tall, a launce ill headed:
If low, an agot very vildlie cut:
If speaking, why a vane blowne with all windes:
If silent, why a blocke moued with none.
So turnes she euery man the wrong side out,
1125 And neuer giues to Truth and Vertue, that
Which simplenesse and merit purchaseth.

Vrsu.

Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.

Hero.

No, not to be so odde, and from all fashions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable,
1130 But who dare tell her so? if I should speake,
She would mocke me into ayre, O she would laugh me
Out of my selfe, presse me to death with wit,
Therefore let Benedicke like couered fire,
Consume away in sighes, waste inwardly:
1135 It were a better death, to die with mockes,
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Vrsu.

Yet tell her of it, heare what shee will say.

Hero.

No, rather I will goe to Benedicke,
And counsaile him to fight against his passion,
1140 And truly Ile deuise some honest slanders,
To staine my cosin with, one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoison liking.

Vrsu.

O doe not doe your cosin such a wrong,
She cannot be so much without true iudgement,
1145 Hauing so swift and excellent a wit
As she is prisde to haue, as to refuse
So rare a Gentleman as signior Benedicke.

Hero.

He is the onely man of Italy,
Alwaies excepted, my deare Claudio.

Vrsu.

1150 I pray you be not angry with me, Madame,
Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedicke,
For shape, for bearing argument and valour,
Goes formost in report through Italy.

Hero.

Indeed he hath an excellent good name.

Vrsu.

1155 His excellence did earne it ere he had it:
When are you married Madame?

Hero.

Why euerie day to morrow, come goe in,
Ile shew thee some attires, and haue thy counsell,
Which is the best to furnish me to morrow.

Vrsu.

1160 Shee's tane I warrant you,
We haue caught her Madame?

Hero.

If it proue so, then louing goes by haps,
Some Cupid kills with arrowes, some with traps.
Exit.

Beat.

What fire is in mine eares? can this be true?
1165 Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorne so much?
Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adew,
No glory liues behinde the backe of such.
And Benedicke, loue on, I will requite thee,
Taming my wilde heart to thy louing hand:
1170 If thou dost loue, my kindnesse shall incite thee
To binde our loues vp in a holy band.
For others say thou dost deserue, and I
Beleeue it better then reportingly.
Exit.

[Act 3, Scene 2]

Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedicke, and Leonato.

Prince.

1174I doe but stay till your marriage be consum­ [l. 1175] mate, and then go I toward Arragon.

Clau.

1176Ile bring you thither my Lord, if you'l vouch­ [l. 1177] safe me.

Prin.

1178Nay, that would be as great a soyle in the new [l. 1179] glosse of your marriage, as to shew a childe his new coat [l. 1180] and forbid him to weare it, I will onely bee bold with [l. 1181] Benedicke for his companie, for from the crowne of his [l. 1182] head, to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth, he hath twice [l. 1183] or thrice cut Cupids bow‑string, and the little hang‑man [l. 1184] dare not shoot at him, he hath a heart as sound as a bell, [l. 1185] and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinkes, [l. 1186] his tongue speakes.

Bene.

1187Gallants, I am not as I haue bin.

Leo.

1188So say I, methinkes you are sadder.

Claud.

1189I hope he be in loue.

Prin.

1190Hang him truant, there's no true drop of bloud [l. 1191] in him to be truly toucht with loue, if he be sad, he wants [l. 1192] money.

Bene.

1193I haue the tooth‑ach.

Prin.

1194Draw it.

Bene.

1195Hang it.

Claud.

1196You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.

Prin.

1197What? sigh for the tooth‑ach.

Leon.

1198Where is but a humour or a worme.

Bene.

1199Well, euery one cannot master a griefe, but hee [l. 1200] that has it.

Clau.

1201Yet say I, he is in loue.

Prin.

1202There is no appearance of fancie in him, vnlesse [l. 1203] it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises, as to bee a [l. 1204] Dutchman to day, a Frenchman to morrow: vnlesse hee [l. 1205] haue a fancy to this foolery, as it appeares hee hath, hee [l. 1206] is no foole for fancy, as you would haue it to appeare [l. 1207] he is.

Clau.

1208If he be not in loue vvith with some vvoman woman, there [l. 1209] is no beleeuing old signes, a brushes his hat a mornings, [l. 1210] What should that bode?

Prin.

1211Hath any man seene him at the Barbers?

Clau.

1212No, but the Barbers man hath beene seen with [l. 1213] him, and the olde ornament of his cheeke hath already [l. 1214] stuft tennis balls.

Leon.

1215Indeed he lookes yonger than hee did, by the [l. 1216] losse of a beard.

Prin.

1217Nay a rubs himselfe vvith with Ciuit, can you smell [l. 1218] him out by that?

Clau.

1219That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in [l. 1220] loue.

Prin.

1221The greatest note of it is his melancholy.

Clau.

1222And vvhen when vvas was he vvont wont to vvash wash his face?

Prin.

1223Yea, or to paint himselfe? for the which I heare [l. 1224] vvhat what they say of him.

Clau.

1225Nay, but his iesting spirit, vvhich which is now crept [l. 1226] into a lute‑string, and now gouern'd by stops.

Prince. [p. 111] Much adoe about Nothing.

Prin.

1227Indeed that tels a heauy tale for him: conclude, [l. 1228] he is in loue.

Clau.

1229Nay, but I know who loues him.

Prince.

1230That would I know too, I warrant one that [l. 1231] knowes him not.

Cla.

1232Yes, and his ill conditions, and in despight of all, [l. 1233] dies for him.

Prin.

1234Shee shall be buried with her face vpwards.

Bene.

1235Yet is this no charme for the tooth‑ake, old sig­ [l. 1236] nior, walke aside with mee, I haue studied eight or nine [l. 1237] wise words to speake to you, which these hobby‑horses [l. 1238] must not heare.

Prin.

1239For my life to breake with him about Beatrice.

Clau.

1240'Tis euen so, Hero and Margaret haue by this [l. 1241] played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Beares [l. 1242] will not bite one another when they meete.

Enter Iohn the Bastard.

Bast.

1243My Lord and brother, God saue you.

Prin.

1244Good den brother.

Bast.

1245If your leisure seru'd, I would speake with you.

Prince.

1246In priuate?

Bast.

1247If it please you, yet Count Claudio may heare, [l. 1248] for what I would speake of, concernes him.

Prin.

1249What's the matter?

Basta.

1250Meanes your Lordship to be married to mor­ [l. 1251] row?

Prin.

1252You know he does.

Bast.

1253I know not that when he knowes what I know.

Clau.

1254If there be any impediment, I pray you disco­ [l. 1255] uer it.

Bast.

1256You may thinke I loue you not, let that appeare [l. 1257] hereafter, and ayme better at me by that I now will ma­ [l. 1258] nifest, for my brother (I thinke, he holds you well, and in [l. 1259] dearenesse of heart) hath holpe to effect your ensuing [l. 1260] marriage: surely sute ill spent, and labour ill bestowed.

Prin.

1261Why, what's the matter?

Bastard.

1262I came hither to tell you, and circumstances [l. 1263] shortned, (for she hath beene too long a talking of) the [l. 1264] Lady is disloyall.

Clau.

1265Who Hero?

Bast.

1266Euen shee, Leonatoes Hero, your Hero, euery [l. 1267] mans Hero.

Clau.

1268Disloyall?

Bast.

1269The word is too good to paint out her wicked­ [l. 1270] nesse, I could say she were worse, thinke you of a worse [l. 1271] title, and I will fit her to it: wonder not till further war­ [l. 1272] rant: goe but with mee to night, you shal see her cham­ [l. 1273] ber window entred, euen the night before her wedding [l. 1274] day, if you loue her, then to morrow wed her: But it [l. 1275] would better fit your honour to change your minde.

Claud.

1276May this be so?

Princ.

1277I will not thinke it.

Bast.

1278If you dare not trust that you see, confesse not [l. 1279] that you know: if you will follow mee, I will shew you [l. 1280] enough, and when you haue seene more, & heard more, [l. 1281] proceed accordingly.

Clau.

1282If I see any thing to night, why I should not [l. 1283] marry her to morrow in the congregation, where I shold [l. 1284] wedde, there will I shame her.

Prin.

1285And as I wooed for thee to obtaine her, I will [l. 1286] ioyne with thee to disgrace her.

Bast.

1287I will disparage her no farther, till you are my [l. 1288] witnesses, beare it coldly but till night, and let the issue [l. 1289] shew it selfe.

Prin.

1290O day vntowardly turned!

Claud.

1291O mischiefe strangelie thwarting!

Bastard.

1292O plague right well preuented! so will you [l. 1293] say, when you haue seene the sequele.

Exit.

[Act 3, Scene 3]

Enter Dogbery and his compartner with the watch.

Dog.

1294Are you good men and true?

Verg.

1295Yea, or else it were pitty but they should suffer [l. 1296] saluation body and soule.

Dogb.

1297Nay, that were a punishment too good for [l. 1298] them, if they should haue any allegiance in them, being [l. 1299] chosen for the Princes watch.

Verges.

1300Well, giue them their charge, neighbor [l. 1301] Dogbery.

Dog.

1302First, who thinke you the most desartlesse man [l. 1303] to be Constable?

Watch. 1.

1304Hugh Ote‑cake sir, or George Sea‑coale, for [l. 1305] they can write and reade.

Dogb.

1306Come hither neighbour Sea‑coale, God hath [l. 1307] blest you with a good name: to be a wel‑fauoured man, [l. 1308] is the gift of Fortune, but to write and reade, comes by [l. 1309] Nature.

Watch 2.

1310Both which Master Constable

Dogb.

1311You haue: I knew it would be your answere: [l. 1312] well, for your fauour sir, why giue God thankes, & make [l. 1313] no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, let that [l. 1314] appeare when there is no need of such vanity, you are [l. 1315] thought heere to be the most senslesse and fit man for the [l. 1316] Constable of the watch: therefore beare you the lan­ [l. 1317] thorne: this is your charge: You shall comprehend all [l. 1318] vagrom men, you are to bid any man stand in the Prin­ [l. 1319] ces name.

Watch 2.

1320How if a will not stand?

Dogb.

1321Why then take no note of him, but let him go, [l. 1322] and presently call the rest of the Watch together, and [l. 1323] thanke God you are ridde of a knaue.

Verges.

1324If he will not stand when he is bidden, hee is [l. 1325] none of the Princes subiects.

Dogb.

1326True, and they are to meddle with none but [l. 1327] the Princes subiects: you shall also make no noise in the [l. 1328] streetes: for, for the Watch to babble and talke, is most [l. 1329] tollerable, and not to be indured.

Watch.

1330We will rather sleepe than talke, wee know [l. 1331] what belongs to a Watch.

Dog.

1332Why you speake like an ancient and most quiet [l. 1333] watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend: [l. 1334] only haue a care that your bills be not stolne: well, you [l. 1335] are to call at all the Alehouses, and bid them that are [l. 1336] drunke get them to bed.

Watch.

1337How if they will not?

Dogb.

1338Why then let them alone till they are sober, if [l. 1339] they make you not then the better answere, you may say, [l. 1340] they are not the men you tooke them for.

Watch.

1341Well sir.

Dogb.

1342If you meet a theefe, you may suspect him, by [l. 1343] vertue of your office, to be no true man: and for such [l. 1344] kinde of men, the lesse you meddle or make with them, [l. 1345] why the more is for your honesty.

Watch.

1346If wee know him to be a thiefe, shall wee not [l. 1347] lay hands on him.

Dogb.

1348Truly by your office you may, but I think they [l. 1349] that touch pitch will be defil'd: the most peaceable way [l. 1350] for you, if you doe take a theefe, is, to let him shew him­ [l. 1351] selfe what he is, and steale out of your company.

Ver.

1352You haue bin alwaies cal'd a merciful man partner.

Dog.

1353Truely I would not hang a dog by my will, much [l. 1354] more a man who hath anie honestie in him.

K2 Verges. [p. 112] Much adoe about Nothing.

Verges.

1355If you heare a child crie in the night you must [l. 1356] call to the nurse, and bid her still it.

Watch.

1357How if the nurse be asleepe and will not [l. 1358] heare vs?

Dog.

1359Why then depart in peace, and let the childe [l. 1360] wake her with crying, for the ewe that will not heare [l. 1361] her Lambe when it baes, will neuer answere a calfe when [l. 1362] he bleates.

Verges.

1363'Tis verie true.

Dog.

1364This is the end of the charge: you constable [l. 1365] are to present the Princes owne person, if you meete the [l. 1366] Prince in the night, you may staie him.

Verges.

1367Nay birladie that I thinke a cannot.

Dog.

1368Fiue shillings to one on't with anie man that [l. 1369] knowes the Statutes, he may staie him, marrie not with­ [l. 1370] out the prince be willing, for indeed the watch ought to [l. 1371] offend no man, and it is an offence to stay a man against [l. 1372] his will.

Verges.

1373Birladie I thinke it be so.

Dog.

1374Ha, ah ha, well masters good night, and there be [l. 1375] anie matter of weight chances, call vp me, keepe your [l. 1376] fellowes counsailes, and your owne, and good night, [l. 1377] come neighbor.

Watch.

1378Well masters, we heare our charge, let vs go [l. 1379] sit here vpon the Church bench till two, and then all to [l. 1380] bed.

Dog.

1381One word more, honest neighbors. I pray you [l. 1382] watch about signior Leonatoes doore, for the wedding be­ [l. 1383] ing there to morrow, there is a great coyle to night, [l. 1384] adiew, be vigitant I beseech you.

Exeunt.
Enter Borachio and Conrade.

Bor.

1385What, Conrade?

Watch.

1386Peace, stir not.

Bor.

1387Conrade I say.

Con.

1388Here man, I am at thy elbow.

Bor.

1389Mas and my elbow itcht, I thought there would [l. 1390] a scabbe follow.

Con.

1391I will owe thee an answere for that, and now [l. 1392] forward with thy tale.

Bor.

1393Stand thee close then vnder this penthouse, for it [l. 1394] drissels raine, and I will, like a true drunkard, vtter all to [l. 1395] thee.

Watch.

1396Some treason masters, yet stand close.

Bor.

1397Therefore know, I haue earned of Don Iohn a [l. 1398] thousand Ducates.

Con.

1399Is it possible that anie villanie should be so deare?

Bor.

1400Thou should'st rather aske if it were possible a­ [l. 1401] nie villanie should be so rich? for when rich villains haue [l. 1402] neede of poore ones, poore ones may make what price [l. 1403] they will.

Con.

1404I wonder at it.

Bor.

1405That shewes thou art vnconfirm'd, thou knowest [l. 1406] that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloake, is no­ [l. 1407] thing to a man.

Con.

1408Yes, it is apparel.

Bor.

1409I meane the fashion.

Con.

1410Yes the fashion is the fashion.

Bor.

1411Tush, I may as well say the foole's the foole, but [l. 1412] seest thou not what a deformed theefe this fashion is?

Watch.

1413I know that deformed, a has bin a vile theefe, [l. 1414] this vii. yeares, a goes vp and downe like a gentle man: [l. 1415] I remember his name.

Bor.

1416Did'st thou not heare some bodie?

Con.

1417No, 'twas the vaine on the house.

Bor.

1418Seest thou not (I say) what a deformed thiefe [l. 1419] this fashion is, how giddily a turnes about all the Hot­ [l. 1420] blouds, betweene foureteene & fiue & thirtie, sometimes [l. 1421] fashioning them like Pharaoes souldiours in the rechie [l. 1422] painting, sometime like god Bels priests in the old [l. 1423] Church window, sometime like the shauen Hercules in [l. 1424] the smircht worm‑eaten tapestrie, where his cod‑peece [l. 1425] seemes as massie as his club.

Con.

1426All this I see, and see that the fashion weares out [l. 1427] more apparrell then the man; but art not thou thy selfe [l. 1428] giddie with the fashion too that thou hast shifted out of [l. 1429] thy tale into telling me of the fashion?

Bor.

1430Not so neither, but know that I haue to night [l. 1431] wooed Margaret the Lady Heroes gentle‑woman, by the [l. 1432] name of Hero, she leanes me out at her mistris chamber‑ [l. 1433] vvindow window, bids me a thousand times good night: I tell [l. 1434] this tale vildly. I should first tell thee how the Prince [l. 1435] Claudio and my Master planted, and placed, and possessed [l. 1436] by my Master Don Iohn, saw a far off in the Orchard this [l. 1437] amiable incounter.

Con.

1438And thought thy Margaret was Hero?

Bor.

1439Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, but the [l. 1440] diuell my Master knew she was Margaret and partly by [l. 1441] his oathes, which first possest them, partly by the darke [l. 1442] night which did deceiue them, but chiefely, by my villa­ [l. 1443] nie, which did confirme any slander that Don Iohn had [l. 1444] made, away vvent went Claudio enraged, swore hee vvould would [l. 1445] meete her as he was apointed next morning at the Tem­ [l. 1446] ple, and there, before the whole congregation shame her [l. 1447] with vvhat what he saw o're night, and send her home againe [l. 1448] vvithout without a husband.

Watch. 1.

1449We charge you in the Princes name stand.

Watch. 2.

1450Call vp the right master Constable, vve we haue [l. 1451] here recouered the most dangerous peece of lechery, that [l. 1452] euer vvas was knowne in the Common‑wealth.

Watch. 1.

1453And one Deformed is one of them, I know [l. 1454] him, a vveares weares a locke.

Conr.

1455Masters, masters.

Watch. 2.

1456Youle be made bring deformed forth I war­ [l. 1457] rant you,

Conr.

1458Masters, neuer speake, vve we charge you, let vs o­ [l. 1459] bey you to goe vvith with vs.

Bor.

1460We are like to proue a goodly commoditie, be­ [l. 1461] ing taken vp of these mens bils.

Conr.

1462A commoditie in question I warrant you, come [l. 1463] vveele weele obey you.

Exeunt.

[Act 3, Scene 4]

Enter Hero, and Margaret, and Vrsula.

Hero.

1464Good Vrsula wake my cosin Beatrice, and de­ [l. 1465] sire her to rise.

Vrsu.

1466I will Lady.

Her.

1467And bid her come hither.

Vrs.

1468Well.

Mar.

1469Troth I thinke your other rebato were better.

Bero.

1470No pray thee good Meg, Ile vveare weare this.

Marg.

1471By my troth's not so good, and I vvarrant warrant your [l. 1472] cosin vvill will say so.

Bero.

1473My cosin's a foole, and thou art another, ile [l. 1474] vveare weare none but this.

Mar.

1475I like the new tire vvithin within excellently, if the [l. 1476] haire vvere were a thought browner: and your gown's a most [l. 1477] rare fashion yfaith, I saw the Dutchesse of Millaines [l. 1478] gowne that they praise so.

Bero.

1479O that exceedes they say.

Mar.

1480By my troth's but a night‑gowne in respect of [l. 1481] yours, cloth a gold and cuts, and lac'd with siluer, set with [l. 1482] pearles, downe sleeues, side sleeues, and skirts, round vn­ [l. 1483] derborn with a blewish tinsel, but for a fine queint grace­ [l. 1484] full and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on't.

Bero. God [p. 113] Much adoe about Nothing.

Hero.

1485God giue mee ioy to weare it, for my heart is [l. 1486] exceeding heauy.

Marga.

1487'Twill be heauier soone, by the waight of a [l. 1488] man.

Hero.

1489Fie vpon thee, art not asham'd?

Marg.

1490Of what Lady? of speaking honourably? is [l. 1491] not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your Lord [l. 1492] honourable without marriage? I thinke you would haue [l. 1493] me say, sauing your reuerence a husband: and bad thin­ [l. 1494] king doe not wrest true speaking, Ile offend no body, is [l. 1495] there any harme in the heauier for a husband? none I [l. 1496] thinke, and it be the right husband, and the right wife, [l. 1497] otherwise 'tis light and not heauy, aske my Lady Beatrice [l. 1498] else, here she comes.

Enter Beatrice.

Hero.

1499Good morrow Coze.

Beat.

1500Good morrow sweet Hero.

Hero.

1501Why how now? do you speake in the sick tune?

Beat.

1502I am out of all other tune, me thinkes.

Mar.

1503Claps into Light a loue, (that goes without a [l. 1504] burden,) do you sing it and Ile dance it.

Beat.

1505Ye Light aloue with your heeles, then if your [l. 1506] husband haue stables enough, you'll looke he shall lacke [l. 1507] no barnes.

Mar.

1508O illegitimate construction! I scorne that with [l. 1509] my heeles.

Beat.

1510'Tis almost fiue a clocke cosin, 'tis time you [l. 1511] were ready, by my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho.

Mar.

1512For a hauke, a horse, or a husband?

Beat.

1513For the letter that begins them all, H.

Mar.

1514Well, and you be not turn'd Turke, there's no [l. 1515] more sayling by the starre.

Beat.

1516What meanes the foole trow?

Mar.

1517Nothing I, but God send euery one their harts [l. 1518] desire.

Hero.

1519These gloues the Count sent mee, they are an [l. 1520] excellent perfume.

Beat.

1521I am stuft cosin, I cannot smell.

Mar.

1522A maid and stuft! there's goodly catching of [l. 1523] colde.

Beat.

1524O God helpe me, God help me, how long haue [l. 1525] you profest apprehension?

Mar.

1526Euer since you left it, doth not my wit become [l. 1527] me rarely?

Beat.

1528It is not seene enough, you should weare it in [l. 1529] your cap, by my troth I am sicke.

Mar.

1530Get you some of this distill'd carduus benedictus [l. 1531] and lay it to your heart, it is the onely thing for a qualm.

Hero.

1532There thou prickst her with a thissell.

Beat.

1533Benedictus, why benedictus? you haue some mo­ [l. 1534] rall in this benedictus.

Mar.

1535Morall? no by my troth, I haue no morall mea­ [l. 1536] ning, I meant plaine holy thissell, you may thinke per­ [l. 1537] chance that I thinke you are in loue, nay birlady I am not [l. 1538] such a foole to thinke what I list, nor I list not to thinke [l. 1539] what I can, nor indeed, I cannot thinke, if I would thinke [l. 1540] my hart out of thinking, that you are in loue, or that you [l. 1541] will be in loue, or that you can be in loue: yet Benedicke [l. 1542] was such another, and now is he become a man, he swore [l. 1543] hee would neuer marry, and yet now in despight of his [l. 1544] heart he eates his meat without grudging, and how you [l. 1545] may be conuerted I know not, but me thinkes you looke [l. 1546] with your eies as other women doe.

Beat.

1547What pace is this that thy tongue keepes.

Mar.

1548Not a false gallop.

Enter Vrsula.

Vrsula.

1549Madam, withdraw, the Prince, the Count, sig­ [l. 1550] nior Benedicke, Don Iohn, and all the gallants of the [l. 1551] towne are come to fetch you to Church.

Hero.

1552Helpe me to dresse mee good coze, good Meg, [l. 1553] good Vrsula.

[Act 3, Scene 5]

Enter Leonato, and the Constable, and the Headborough.

Leonato.

1554What would you with mee, honest neigh­ [l. 1555] bour?

Const. Dog.

1556Mary sir I would haue some confidence [l. 1557] with you, that decernes you nearly.

Leon.

1558Briefe I pray you, for you see it is a busie time [l. 1559] with me.

Const. Dog.

1560Mary this it is sir.

Headb.

1561Yes in truth it is sir.

Leon.

1562What is it my good friends?

Con. Do.

1563Goodman Verges sir speakes a little of the [l. 1564] matter, an old man sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as [l. 1565] God helpe I would desire they were, but infaith honest [l. 1566] as the skin betweene his browes.

Head.

1567Yes I thank God, I am as honest as any man li­ [l. 1568] uing, that is an old man, and no honester then I.

Con. Dog.

1569Comparisons are odorous, palabras, neigh­ [l. 1570] bour Verges.

Leon.

1571Neighbours, you are tedious.

Con. Dog.

1572It pleases your worship to say so, but we are [l. 1573] the poore Dukes officers, but truely for mine owne part, [l. 1574] if I were as tedious as a King I could finde in my heart to [l. 1575] bestow it all of your worship.

Leon.

1576All thy tediousnesse on me, ah?

Const. Dog.

1577Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more [l. 1578] than 'tis, for I heare as good exclamation on your Wor­ [l. 1579] ship as of any man in the Citie, and though I bee but a [l. 1580] poore man, I am glad to heare it.

Head.

1581And so am I.

Leon.

1582I would faine know what you haue to say.

Head.

1583Marry sir our watch to night, except[.]ng your [l. 1584] worships presence, haue tane a couple of as arrant [l. 1585] knaues as any in Messina.

Con. Dog.

1586A good old man sir, hee will be talking as [l. 1587] they say, when the age is in the wit is out, God helpe vs, [l. 1588] it is a world to see: well said yfaith neighbour Verges, [l. 1589] well, God's a good man, and two men ride of a horse, [l. 1590] one must ride behinde, an honest soule yfaith sir, by my [l. 1591] troth he is, as euer broke bread, but God is to bee wor­ [l. 1592] shipt, all men are not alike, alas good neighbour.

Leon.

1593Indeed neighbour he comes too short of you.

Con. Do.

1594Gifts that God giues.

Leon.

1595I must leaue you.

Con. Dog.

1596One word sir, our watch sir haue indeed [l. 1597] comprehended two aspitious persons, & we would haue [l. 1598] them this morning examined before your worship.

Leon.

1599Take their examination your selfe, and bring it [l. 1600] me, I am now in great haste, as may appeare vnto you.

Const.

1601It shall be suffigance.

Leon.

1602Drinke some wine ere you goe: fare you well. [l. 1603] (Exit.

Messenger.

1604My Lord, they stay for you to giue your [l. 1605] daughter to her husband.

Leon.

1606Ile wait vpon them, I am ready.

Dogb.

1607Goe good partner, goe get you to Francis Sea‑ [l. 1608] coale, bid him bring his pen and inkehorne to the Gaole: [l. 1609] we are now to examine those men.

Verges.

1610And we must doe it wisely.

Dogb.

1611Wee will spare for no witte I warrant you: K3 heeres [p. 114] Much adoe about Nothing. [l. 1612] heere's that shall driue some to a non‑come, on­ [l. 1613] ly get the learned writer to set downe our excommuni­ [l. 1614] cation, and meet me at the Iaile.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

[Act 4, Scene 1]

Enter Prince, Bastard, Leonato, Frier, Claudio, Benedicke,
Hero, and Beatrice.

Leonato.

1615Come Frier Francis, be briefe, onely to the [l. 1616] plaine forme of marriage, and you shal recount their par­ [l. 1617] ticular duties afterwards.

Fran.

1618You come hither, my Lord, to marry this Lady.

Clau.

1619No.

Leo.

1620To be married to her: Frier, you come to mar­ [l. 1621] rie her.

Frier.

1622Lady, you come hither to be married to this [l. 1623] Count.

Hero.

1624I doe.

Frier.

1625If either of you know any inward impediment [l. 1626] why you should not be conioyned, I charge you on your [l. 1627] soules to vtter it.

Claud.

1628Know you anie, Hero?

Hero.

1629None my Lord.

Frier.

1630Know you anie, Count?

Leon.

1631I dare make his answer, None.

Clau.

1632O what men dare do! what men may do! what [l. 1633] men daily do!

Bene.

1634How now! interiections? why then, some be [l. 1635] of laughing, as ha, ha, he.

Clau.

Stand thee by Frier, father, by your leaue,
Will you with free and vnconstrained soule
Giue me this maid your daughter?

Leon.

As freely sonne as God did giue her me.

Cla.

1640 And what haue I to giue you back, whose worth
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?

Prin.

Nothing, vnlesse you render her againe.

Clau.

Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulnes:
There Leonato, take her backe againe,
1645 Giue not this rotten Orenge to your friend,
Shee's but the signe and semblance of her honour:
Behold how like a maid she blushes heere!
O what authoritie and shew of truth
Can cunning sinne couer it selfe withall!
1650 Comes not that bloud, as modest euidence,
To witnesse simple Vertue? would you not sweare
All you that see her, that she were a maide,
By these exterior shewes? But she is none:
She knowes the heat of a luxurious bed:
1655 Her blush is guiltinesse, not modestie.

Leonato.

What doe you meane, my Lord?

Clau.

Not to be married,
Not to knit my soule to an approued wanton.

Leon.

Deere my Lord, if you in your owne [.]roofe,
1660 Haue vanquisht the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginitie.

Clau.

I know what you would say: if I haue knowne
(her,
You will say, she did imbrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the forehand sinne: No Leonato,
1665 I neuer tempted her with word too large,
But as a brother to his sister, shewed
Bashfull sinceritie and comely loue.

Hero.

And seem'd I euer otherwise to you?

Clau.

Out on thee seeming, I will write against it,
1670 You seeme to me as Diane in her Orbe,
As chaste as is the budde ere it be blowne:
But you are more intemperate in your blood,
Than Venus, or those pampred animalls,
That rage in sauage sensualitie.

Hero.

1675 Is my Lord well, that he doth speake so wide?

Leon.

Sweete Prince, why speake not you?

Prin.

What should I speake?
I stand dishonour'd that haue gone about,
To linke my deare friend to a common stale.

Leon.

1680 Are these things spoken, or doe I but dreame?

Bast.

Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.

Bene.

This lookes not like a nuptiall.

Hero.

True, O God!

Clau.

Leonato, stand I here?
1685 Is this the Prince? is this the Princes brother?
Is this face Heroes? are our eies our owne?

Leon.

All this is so, but what of this my Lord?

Clau.

Let me but moue one question to your daugh­
(ter,
And by that fatherly and kindly power,
1690 That you haue in her, bid her answer truly.

Leo.

I charge thee doe, as thou art my childe.

Hero.

O God defend me how am I beset,
What kinde of catechizing call you this?

Clau.

To make you answer truly to your name.

Hero.

1695 Is it not Hero? who can blot that name
With any iust reproach?

Claud.

Marry that can Hero,
Hero it selfe can blot out Heroes vertue.
What man was he, talkt with you yesternight,
1700 Out at your window betwixt twelue and one?
Now if you are a maid, answer to this.

Hero.

I talkt with no man at that howre my Lord.

Prince.

Why then you are no maiden. Leonato,
I am sorry you must heare: vpon mine honor,
1705 My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Count
Did see her, heare her, at that howre last night,
Talke with a ruffian at her chamber window,
Who hath indeed most like a liberall villaine,
Confest the vile encounters they haue had
1710 A thousand times in secret.

Iohn.

Fie, fie, they are not to be named my Lord,
Not to be spoken of,
There is not chastitie enough in language,
Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty Lady
1715 I am sorry for thy much misgouernment.

Claud.

O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou beene
If halfe thy outward graces had beene placed
About thy thoughts and counsailes of thy heart?
But fare thee well, most foule, most faire, farewell
1720 Thou pure impiety, and impious puritie,
For thee Ile locke vp all the gates of Loue,
And on my eie‑lids shall Coniecture hang,
To turne all beauty into thoughts of harme,
And neuer shall it more be gracious.

Leon.

1725 Hath no mans dagger here a point for me?

Beat.

Why how now cosin, wherfore sink you down?

Bast.

Come, let vs go: these things come thus to light,
Smother her spirits vp.

Bene.

How doth the Lady?

Beat.

1730 Dead I thinke, helpe vncle,
Hero, why Hero, Vncle, Signor Benedicke, Frier.

Leonato.

O Fate! take not away thy heauy hand,
Death is the fairest couer for her shame
That may be wisht for.
Beat. How [p. 115] Much adoe about Nothing.

Beatr.

1735 How now cosin Hero?

Fri.

Haue comfort Ladie.

Leon.

Dost thou looke vp?

Frier.

Yea, wherefore should she not?

Leon.

Wherfore? Why doth not euery earthly thing
1740 Cry shame vpon her? Could she heere denie
The storie that is printed in her blood?
Do not liue Hero, do not ope thine eyes:
For did I thinke thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger then thy shames,
1745 My selfe would on the reward of reproaches
Strike at thy life. Grieu'd I, I had but one?
Chid I, for that at frugal Natures frame?
O one too much by thee: why had I one?
Why euer was't thou louelie in my eies?
1750 Why had I not with charitable hand
Tooke vp a beggars issue at my gates,
Who smeered thus, and mir'd with infamie,
I might haue said, no part of it is mine:
This shame deriues it selfe from vnknowne loines,
1755 But mine, and mine I lou'd, and mine I prais'd,
And mine that I was proud on mine so much,
That I my selfe, was to my selfe not mine:
Valewing of her, why she, O she is falne
Into a pit of Inke, that the wide sea
1760 Hath drops too few to wash her cleane againe,
And salt too little, which may season giue
To her foule tainted flesh.

Ben.

1763Sir, sir, be patient: for my part, I am so attired [l. 1764] in wonder, I know not what to say.

Bea.

1765 O on my soule my cosin is belied.

Ben.

Ladie, were you her bedfellow last night?

Bea.

No, truly: not although vntill last night,
I haue this tweluemonth bin her bedfellow.

Leon.

Confirm'd, confirm'd, O that is stronger made
1770 Which was before barr'd vp with ribs of iron.
Would the Princes lie, and Claudio lie,
Who lou'd her so, that speaking of her foulnesse,
Wash'd it with teares? Hence from her, let her die.

Fri.

1774Heare me a little, for I haue onely bene silent so [l. 1775] long, and giuen way vnto this course of fortune, by no­ [l. 1776] ting of the Ladie, I haue markt.

A thousand blushing apparitions,
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames,
In Angel whitenesse beare away those blushes,
1780 And in her eie there hath appear'd a fire
To burne the errors that these Princes hold
Against her maiden truth. Call me a foole,
Trust not my reading, nor my obseruations,
Which with experimental seàle doth warrant
1785 The tenure of my booke: trust not my age,
My reuerence, calling, nor diuinitie,
If this sweet Ladie lye not guiltlesse heere,
Vnder some biting error.

Leo.

Friar, it cannot be:
1790 Thou seest that all the Grace that she hath left,
Is, that she wil not adde to her damnation,
A sinne of periury, she not denies it:
Why seek'st thou then to couer with excuse,
That which appeares in proper nakednesse?

Fri.

1795 Ladie, what man is he you are accus'd of?

Hero.

They know that do accuse me, I know none:
If I know more of any man aliue
Then that which maiden modestie doth warrant,
Let all my sinnes lacke mercy. O my Father,
1800 Proue you that any man with me conuerst,
At houres vnmeete, or that I yesternight
Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death.

Fri.

There is some strange misprision in the Princes.

Ben.

1805 Two of them haue the verie bent of honor,
And if their wisedomes be misled in this:
The practise of it liues in Iohn the bastard,
Whose spirits toile in frame of villanies.

Leo.

I know not: if they speake but truth of her,
1810 These hands shall teare her: If they wrong her honour,
The proudest of them shall wel heare of it.
Time hath not yet so dried this bloud of mine,
Nor age so eate vp my inuention,
Nor Fortune made such hauocke of my meanes,
1815 Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall finde, awak'd in such a kinde,
Both strength of limbe, and policie of minde,
Ability in meanes, and choise of friends,
To quit me of them thoroughly.

Fri.

1820 Pause awhile:
And let my counsell sway you in this case,
Your daughter heere the Princesse (left for dead)
Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
And publish it, that she is dead indeed:
1825 Maintaine a mourning ostentation,
And on your Families old monument,
Hang mournfull Epitaphes, and do all rites,
That appertaine vnto a buriall.

Leon.

What shall become of this? What wil this do?

Fri.

1830 Marry this wel carried, shall on her behalfe,
Change slander to remorse, that is some good,
But not for that dreame I on this strange course,
But on this trauaile looke for greater birth:
She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
1835 Vpon the instant that she was accus'd,
Shal be lamented, pittied, and excus'd
Of euery hearer: for it so fals out,
That what we haue, we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enioy it; but being lack'd and lost,
1840 Why then we racke the value, then we finde
The vertue that possession would not shew vs
Whiles it was ours, so will it fare with Claudio:
When he shal heare she dyed vpon his words,
Th'Idea of her life shal sweetly creepe
1845 Into his study of imagination.
And euery louely Organ of her life,
Shall come apparel'd in more precious habite:
More mouing delicate, and ful of life,
Into the eye and prospect of his soule
1850 Then when she liu'd indeed: then shal he mourne,
If euer Loue had interest in his Liuer,
And wish he had not so accused her:
No, though he thought his accusation true:
Let this be so, and doubt not but successe
1855 Wil fashion the euent in better shape,
Then I can lay it downe in likelihood.
But if all ayme but this be leuelld false,
The supposition of the Ladies death,
Will quench the wonder of her infamie.
1860 And if it sort not well, you may conceale her
As best befits her wounded reputation,
In some reclusiue and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, mindes and iniuries.

Bene.

Signior Leonato, let the Frier aduise you,
1865 And though you know my inwardnesse and loue
Is very much vnto the Prince and Claudio.
Yet [p. 116] Much adoe about Nothing.
Yet, by mine honor, I will deale in this,
As secretly and iustlie, as your soule
Should with your bodie.

Leon.

1870 Being that I flow in greefe,
The smallest twine may lead me.

Frier.

'Tis well consented, presently away,
For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure,
Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day
1875 Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure.
Exit.

Bene.

1876Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while?

Beat.

1877Yea, and I will weepe a while longer.

Bene.

1878I will not desire that.

Beat.

1879You haue no reason, I doe it freely.

Bene.

1880Surelie I do beleeue your fair cosin is wrong'd.

Beat.

1881Ah, how much might the man deserue of mee [l. 1882] that would right her!

Bene.

1883Is there any way to shew such friendship?

Beat.

1884A verie euen way, but no such friend.

Bene.

1885May a man doe it?

Beat.

1886It is a mans office, but not yours.

Bene.

1887I doe loue nothing in the world so well as you, [l. 1888] is not that strange?

Beat.

1889As strange as the thing I know not, it were as [l. 1890] possible for me to say, I loued nothing so well as you, but [l. 1891] beleeue me not, and yet I lie not, I confesse nothing, nor [l. 1892] I deny nothing, I am sorry for my cousin.

Bene.

1893By my sword Beatrice thou lou'st me.

Beat.

1894Doe not sweare by it and eat it.

Bene.

1895I will sweare by it that you loue mee, and I will [l. 1896] make him eat it that sayes I loue not you.

Beat.

1897Will you not eat your word?

Bene.

1898With no sawce that can be deuised to it, I pro­ [l. 1899] test I loue thee.

Beat.

1900Why then God forgiue me.

Bene.

1901What offence sweet Beatrice?

Beat.

1902You haue stayed me in a happy howre, I was a­ [l. 1903] bout to protest I loued you.

Bene.

1904And doe it with all thy heart.

Beat.

1905I loue you with so much of my heart, that none [l. 1906] is left to protest.

Bened.

1907Come, bid me doe any thing for thee.

Beat.

1908Kill Claudio.

Bene.

1909Ha, not for the wide world.

Beat.

1910You kill me to denie, farewell.

Bene.

1911Tarrie sweet Beatrice.

Beat.

1912I am gone, though I am heere, there is no loue [l. 1913] in you, nay I pray you let me goe.

Bene.

1914Beatrice.

Beat.

1915Infaith I will goe.

Bene.

1916Wee'll be friends first.

Beat.

1917You dare easier be friends with mee, than fight [l. 1918] with mine enemy.

Bene.

1919Is Claudio thine enemie?

Beat.

1920Is a not approued in the height a villaine, that [l. 1921] hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O [l. 1922] that I were a man! what, beare her in hand vntill they [l. 1923] come to take hands, and then with publike accusation [l. 1924] vncouered slander, vnmittigated rancour? O God that I [l. 1925] were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketȑplace.

Bene.

1926Heare me Beatrice.

Beat.

1927Talke with a man out at a window, a proper [l. 1928] saying.

Bene.

1929Nay but Beatrice.

Beat.

1930Sweet Hero, she is wrong'd, shee is slandered, [l. 1931] she is vndone.

Bene.

1932Beat?

Beat.

1933Princes and Counties! surelie a Princely testi­ [l. 1934] monie, a goodly Count, Comfect, a sweet Gallant sure­ [l. 1935] lie, O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any [l. 1936] friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is mel­ [l. 1937] ted into cursies, valour into complement, and men are [l. 1938] onelie turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now [l. 1939] as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and sweares it: [l. 1940] I cannot be a man with wishing, therfore I will die a wo­ [l. 1941] man with grieuing.

Bene.

1942Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee.

Beat.

1943Vse it for my loue some other way then swea­ [l. 1944] ring by it.

Bened.

1945Thinke you in your soule the Count Claudio [l. 1946] hath wrong'd Hero?

Beat.

1947Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a soule.

Bene.

1948Enough, I am engagde, I will challenge him, I [l. 1949] will kisse your hand, and so leaue you: by this hand Clau­ [l. 1950] dio shall render me a deere account: as you heare of me, [l. 1951] so thinke of me: goe comfort your coosin, I must say she [l. 1952] is dead, and so farewell.

[Act 4, Scene 2]

Enter the Constables, Borachio, and the Towne Clerke
in gownes.

Keeper.

1953Is our whole dissembly appeard?

Cowley.

1954O a stoole and a cushion for the Sexton.

Sexton.

1955Which be the malefactors?

Andrew.

1956Marry that am I, and my partner.

Cowley.

1957Nay that's certaine, wee haue the exhibition [l. 1958] to examine.

Sexton.

1959But which are the offenders that are to be ex­ [l. 1960] amined, let them come before master Constable.

Kemp.

1961Yea marry, let them come before mee, what is [l. 1962] your name, friend?

Bor.

1963Borachio.

Kem.

1964Pray write downe Borachio. Yours sirra.

Con.

1965I am a Gentleman sir, and my name is Conrade.

Kee.

1966Write downe Master gentleman Conrade: mai­ [l. 1967] sters, doe you serue God: maisters, it is proued already [l. 1968] that you are little better than false knaues, and it will goe [l. 1969] neere to be thought so shortly, how answer you for your [l. 1970] selues?

Con.

1971Marry sir, we say we are none.

Kemp.

1972A maruellous witty fellow I assure you, but I [l. 1973] will goe about with him: come you hither sirra, a word [l. 1974] in your eare sir, I say to you, it is thought you are false [l. 1975] knaues.

Bor.

1976Sir, I say to you, we are none.

Kemp.

1977Well, stand aside, 'fore God they are both in [l. 1978] a tale: haue you writ downe that they are none?

Sext.

1979Master Constable, you goe not the way to ex­ [l. 1980] amine, you must call forth the watch that are their ac­ [l. 1981] cusers.

Kemp.

1982Yea marry, that's the eftest way, let the watch [l. 1983] come forth: masters, I charge you in the Princes name, [l. 1984] accuse these men.

Watch 1.

1985This man said sir, that Don Iohn the Princes [l. 1986] brother was a villaine.

Kemp.

1987Write down, Prince Iohn a villaine: why this [l. 1988] is flat periurie, to call a Princes brother villaine.

Bora.

1989Master Constable.

Kemp.

1990Pray thee fellow peace, I do not like thy looke [l. 1991] I promise thee.

Sexton.

1992What heard you him say else?

Watch 2.

1993Mary that he had receiued a thousand Du­ [l. 1994] kates of Don Iohn, for accusing the Lady Hero wrong­ [l. 1995] fully.

Kem. [p. 117] Much adoe about Nothing.

Kemp.

1996Flat Burglarie as euer was committed.

Const.

1997Yea by th'masse that it is.

Sexton.

1998What else fellow?

Watch 1.

1999And that Count Claudio did meane vpon his [l. 2000] words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and [l. 2001] not marry her.

Kemp.

2002O villaine! thou wilt be condemn'd into euer­ [l. 2003] lasting redemption for this.

Sexton.

2004What else?

Watch.

2005This is all.

Sexton.

2006And this is more masters then you can deny, [l. 2007] Prince Iohn is this morning secretly stolne away: Hero [l. 2008] was in this manner accus'd, in this very manner refus'd, [l. 2009] and vpon the griefe of this sodainely died: Master Con­ [l. 2010] stable, let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato, [l. 2011] I will goe before, and shew him their examination.

Const.

2012Come, let them be opinion'd.

Sex.

2013Let them be in the hands of Coxcombe.

Kem.

2014Gods my life, where's the Sexton? let him write [l. 2015] downe the Princes Officer Coxcombe: come, binde them [l. 2016] thou naughty varlet.

Couley.

2017Away, you are an asse, you are an asse.

Kemp.

2018Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not [l. 2019] suspect my yeeres? O that hee were heere to write mee [l. 2020] downe an asse! but masters, remember that I am an asse: [l. 2021] though it be not written down, yet forget not yt I am an [l. 2022] asse: No thou villaine, yu art full of piety as shall be prou'd [l. 2023] vpon thee by good witnesse, I am a wise fellow, and [l. 2024] which is more, an officer, and which is more, a houshoul­ [l. 2025] der, and which is more, as pretty a peece of flesh as any in [l. 2026] Messina, and one that knowes the Law, goe to, & a rich [l. 2027] fellow enough, goe to, and a fellow that hath had losses, [l. 2028] and one that hath two gownes, and euery thing hand­ [l. 2029] some about him: bring him away: O that I had been writ [l. 2030] downe an asse!

Exit.

Actus Quintus.

[Act 5, Scene 1]

Enter Leonato and his brother.

Brother.

If you goe on thus, you will kill your selfe,
And 'tis not wisedome thus to second griefe,
Against your selfe.

Leon.

I pray thee cease thy counsaile,
2035 Which falls into mine eares as profitlesse,
As water in a siue: giue not me counsaile,
Nor let no comfort delight mine eare,
But such a one whose wrongs doth sute with mine.
Bring me a father that so lou'd his childe,
2040 Whose ioy of her is ouerȑwhelmed like mine,
And bid him speake of patience,
Measure his woe the length and bredth of mine,
And let it answere euery straine for straine,
As thus for thus, and such a griefe for such,
2045 In euery lineament, branch, shape, and forme:
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone,
Patch griefe with prouerbs, make misfortune drunke,
With candleȑwasters: bring him yet to me,
2050 And I of him will gather patience:
But there is no such man, for brother, men
Can counsaile, and speake comfort to that griefe,
Which they themselues not feele, but tasting it,
Their counsaile turnes to passion, which before,
2055 Would giue preceptiall medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madnesse in a silken thred,
Charme ache with ayre, and agony with words,
No, no, 'tis all mens office, to speake patience
To those that wring vnder the load of sorrow:
2060 But no mans vertue nor sufficiencie
To be so morall, when he shall endure
The like himselfe: therefore giue me no counsaile,
My griefs cry lowder then aduertisement.

Broth.

Therein do men from children nothing differ.

Leonato.

2065 I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and bloud,
For there was neuer yet Philosopher,
That could endure the toothȑake patiently,
How euer they haue writ the stile of gods,
And made a push at chance and sufferance.

Brother.

2070 Yet bend not all the harme vpon your selfe,
Make those that doe offend you, suffer too.

Leon.

There thou speak'st reason, nay I will doe so,
My soule doth tell me, Hero is belied,
And that shall Claudio know, so shall the Prince,
2075 And all of them that thus dishonour her.
Enter Prince and Claudio.

Brot.

Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.

Prin.

Good den, good den.

Clau.

Good day to both of you.

Leon.

Heare you my Lords?

Prin.

2080 We haue some haste Leonato.

Leo.

Some haste my Lord! wel, fareyouwel my Lord,
Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.

Prin.

Nay, do not quarrel with vs, good old man.

Brot.

If he could rite himselfe with quarrelling,
2085 Some of vs would lie low.

Claud.

Who wrongs him?

Leon.

Marry yu dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou:
Nay, neuer lay thy hand vpon thy sword,
I feare thee not.

Claud.

2090 Marry beshrew my hand,
If it should giue your age such cause of feare,
Infaith my hand meant nothing to my sword.

Leonato.

Tush, tush, man, neuer fleere and iest at me,
I speake not like a dotard, nor a foole,
2095 As vnder priuiledge of age to bragge,
What I haue done being yong, or what would doe,
Were I not old, know Claudio to thy head,
Thou hast so wrong'd my innocent childe and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reuerence by,
2100 And with grey haires and bruise of many daies,
Doe challenge thee to triall of a man,
I say thou hast belied mine innocent childe.
Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
And she lies buried with her ancestors:
2105 O in a tombe where neuer scandall slept,
Saue this of hers, fram'd by thy villanie.

Claud.

My villany?

Leonato.

Thine Claudio, thine I say.

Prin.

You say not right old man.

Leon.

2110 My Lord, my Lord,
Ile proue it on his body if he dare,
Despight his nice fence, and his actiue practise,
His Maie of youth, and bloome of lustihood.

Claud.

Away, I will not haue to do with you.

Leo.

2115 Canst thou so daffe me? thou hast kild my child,
If thou kilst me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.

Bro.

He shall kill two of vs, and men indeed,
But that's no matter, let him kill one first:
Win [p. 118] Much adoe about Nothing.
Win me and weare me, let him answere me,
2120 Come follow me boy, come sir boy, come follow me
Sir boy, ile whip you from your foyning fence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon.

Brother.

Brot.

Content your self, God knows I lou'd my neece,
2125 And she is dead, slander'd to death by villaines,
That dare as well answer a man indeede,
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.
Boyes,apes, braggarts, Iackes, milkeȑsops.

Leon.

Brother Anthony.

Brot.

2130 Hold you content, what man? I know them, yea
And what they weigh, euen to the vtmost scruple,
Scambling, outȑfacing, fashionȑmonging boyes,
That lye, and cog, and flout, depraue, and slander,
Goe antiquely, and show outward hidiousnesse,
2135 And speake of halfe a dozen dang'rous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst.
And this is all.

Leon.

But brother Anthonie.

Ant.

Come, 'tis no matter,
2140 Do not you meddle, let me deale in this.

Pri.

Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience
My heart is sorry for your daughters death:
But on my honour she was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proofe.

Leon.

2145 My Lord, my Lord.

Prin.

I will not heare you.
Enter Benedicke.

Leo.

No come brother, away, I will be heard.
Exeunt ambo.

Bro.

And shall, or some of vs will smart for it.

Prin.

See, see, here comes the man we went to seeke.

Clau.

2150Now signior, what newes?

Ben.

2151Good day my Lord.

Prin.

2152Welcome signior, you are almost come to part [l. 2153] almost a fray.

Clau.

2154Wee had likt to haue had our two noses snapt [l. 2155] off with two old men without teeth.

Prin.

2156Leonato and his brother, what think'st thou? had [l. 2157] wee fought, I doubt we should haue beene too yong for [l. 2158] them.

Ben.

2159In a false quarrell there is no true valour, I came [l. 2160] to seeke you both.

Clau.

2161We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for [l. 2162] we are high proofe melancholly, and would faine haue it [l. 2163] beaten away, wilt thou vse thy wit?

Ben.

2164It is in my scabberd, shall I draw it?

Prin.

2165Doest thou weare thy wit by thy side?

Clau.

2166Neuer any did so, though verie many haue been [l. 2167] beside their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as we do the min­ [l. 2168] strels, draw to pleasure vs.

Prin.

2169As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art [l. 2170] thou sicke, or angrie?

Clau.

2171What, courage man: what though care kil'd a [l. 2172] cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Ben.

2173Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and [l. 2174] you charge it against me, I pray you chuse another sub­ [l. 2175] iect.

Clau.

2176Nay then giue him another staffe, this last was [l. 2177] broke crosse.

Prin.

2178By this light, he changes more and more, I thinke [l. 2179] he be angrie indeede.

Clau.

2180If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle.

Ben.

2181Shall I speake a word in your eare?

Clau.

2182God blesse me from a challenge.

Ben.

2183You are a villaine, I iest not, I will make it good [l. 2184] how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare: [l. 2185] do me right, or I will protest your cowardise: you haue [l. 2186] kill'd a sweete Ladie, and her death shall fall heauie on [l. 2187] you, let me heare from you.

Clau.

2188Well, I will meete you, so I may haue good [l. 2189] cheare.

Prin.

2190What, a feast, a feast?

Clau.

2191I faith I thanke him, he hath bid me to a calues [l. 2192] head and a Capon, the which if I doe not carue most cu­ [l. 2193] riously, say my knife's naught, shall I not finde a wood­ [l. 2194] cocke too?

Ben.

2195Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily.

Prin.

2196Ile tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the o­ [l. 2197] ther day: I said thou hadst a fine wit: true saies she, a fine [l. 2198] little one: no said I, a great wit: right saies shee, a great [l. 2199] grosse one: nay said I, a good wit: iust said she, it hurts [l. 2200] no body: nay said I, the gentleman is wise: certaine said [l. 2201] she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he hath the tongues: [l. 2202] that I beleeue said shee, for hee swore a thing to me on [l. 2203] munday night, which he forswore on tuesday morning: [l. 2204] there's a double tongue, there's two tongues: thus did [l. 2205] shee an howre together transȑshape thy particular ver­ [l. 2206] tues, yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the [l. 2207] proprest man in Italie.

Claud.

2208For the which she wept heartily, and said shee [l. 2209] car'd not.

Prin.

2210Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if shee [l. 2211] did not hate him deadlie, shee would loue him dearely, [l. 2212] the old mans daughter told vs all.

Clau.

2213All, all, and moreouer, God saw him vvhen when he [l. 2214] was hid in the garden.

Prin.

2215But when shall we set the sauage Bulls hornes [l. 2216] on the sensible Benedicks head?

Clau.

2217Yea and text vnderȑneath, heere dwells Bene­ [l. 2218] dicke the married man.

Ben.

2219Fare you well, Boy, you know my minde, I will [l. 2220] leaue you now to your gossepȑlike humor, you breake [l. 2221] iests as braggards do their blades, which God be thank­ [l. 2222] ed hurt not: my Lord, for your manie courtesies I thank [l. 2223] you, I must discontinue your companie, your brother [l. 2224] the Bastard is fled from Messina: you haue among you, [l. 2225] kill'd a sweet and innocent Ladie: for my Lord Lackeȑ [l. 2226] beard there, he and I shall meete, and till then peace be [l. 2227] with him.

Prin.

2228He is in earnest.

Clau.

2229In most profound earnest, and Ile warrant you, [l. 2230] for the loue of Beatrice.

Prin.

2231And hath challeng'd thee.

Clau.

2232Most sincerely.

Prin.

2233What a prettie thing man is, when he goes in his [l. 2234] doublet and hose, and leaues off his wit.

Enter Constable, Conrade, and Borachio.

Clau.

2235He is then a Giant to an Ape, but then is an Ape [l. 2236] a Doctor to such a man.

Prin.

2237But soft you, let me be, plucke vp my heart, and [l. 2238] be sad, did he not say my brother was fled?

Const.

2239Come you sir, if iustice cannot tame you, shee [l. 2240] shall nere weigh more reasons in her ballance, nay, and [l. 2241] you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be lookt to.

Prin.

2242How now, two of my brothers men bound? Bo­ [l. 2243] rachio one.

Clau.

2244Ha[.]ken after their offence my Lord.

Prin.

2245Officers, what offence haue these men done?

Con. Marrie [p. 119] Much adoe about Nothing.

Const.

2246Marrie sir, they haue committed false report, [l. 2247] moreouer they haue spoken vntruths, secondarily they [l. 2248] are slanders, sixt and lastly, they haue belyed a Ladie, [l. 2249] thirdly, they haue verified vniust things, and to conclude [l. 2250] they are lying knaues.

Prin.

2251First I aske thee what they haue done, thirdlie [l. 2252] I aske thee vvhat's what's their offence, sixt and lastlie why they [l. 2253] are committed, and to conclude, what you lay to their [l. 2254] charge.

Clau.

2255Rightlie reasoned, and in his owne diuision, and [l. 2256] by my troth there's one meaning vvell well suted.

Prin.

2257Who haue you offended masters, that you are [l. 2258] thus bound to your answer? this learned Constable is too [l. 2259] cunning to be vnderstood, vvhat's what's your offence?

Bor.

2260Sweete Prince, let me go no farther to mine an­ [l. 2261] swere: do you heare me, and let this Count kill mee: I [l. 2262] haue deceiued euen your verie eies: vvhat what your wise­ [l. 2263] domes could not discouer, these shallow fooles haue [l. 2264] brought to light, vvho who in the night ouerheard me con­ [l. 2265] fessing to this man, how Don Iohn your brother incensed [l. 2266] me to slander the Ladie Hero, how you were brought [l. 2267] into the Orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Heroes [l. 2268] garments, how you disgrace'd her vvhen when you should [l. 2269] marrie her: my villanie they haue vpon record, vvhich which [l. 2270] I had rather seale with my death, then repeate ouer to [l. 2271] my shame: the Ladie is dead vpon mine and my masters [l. 2272] false accusation: and briefelie, I desire nothing but the [l. 2273] reward of a villaine.

Prin.

Runs not this speech like yron through your
bloud?

Clau.

2275 I haue drunke poison whiles he vtter'd it.

Prin.

But did my Brother set thee on to this?

Bor.

Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it.

Prin.

He is compos'd and fram'd of treacherie,
And fled he is vpon this villanie.

Clau.

2280 Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appeare
In the rare semblance that I lou'd it first.

Const.

2282Come, bring away the plaintiffes, by this time [l. 2283] our Sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: [l. 2284] and masters, do not forget to specifie when time & place [l. 2285] shall serue, that I am an Asse.

Con. 2.

2286Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and [l. 2287] the Sexton too.

Enter Leonato.

Leon.

Which is the villaine? let me see his eies,
That when I note another man like him,
2290 I may auoide him: vvhich which of these is he?

Bor.

If you vvould would know your wronger, looke on me.

Leon.

2292Art thou the slaue that with thy breath [l. 2293] hast kild mine innocent childe?

Bor.

2294Yea, euen I alone.

Leo.

2295 No, not so villaine, thou beliest thy selfe,
Here stand a paire of honourable men,
A third is fled that had a hand in it:
I thanke you Princes for my daughters death,
Record it with your high and worthie deedes,
2300 'Twas brauely done, if you bethinke you of it.

Clau.

I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I must speake, choose your reuenge your selfe,
Impose me to what penance your inuention
Can lay vpon my sinne, yet sinn'd I not,
2305 But in mistaking.

Prin.

By my soule nor I,
And yet to satisfie this good old man,
I […]ould bend vnder anie heauie vvaight waight,
That heele enioyne me to.

Leon.

2310 I cannot bid you bid my daughter liue,
That were impossible, but I praie you both,
Possesse the people in Messina here,
How innocent she died, and if your loue
Can labour aught in sad inuention,
2315 Hang her an epitaph vpon her toomb,
And sing it to her bones, sing it to night:
To morrow morning come you to my house,
And since you could not be my sonne in law,
Be yet my Nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
2320 Almost the copie of my childe that's dead,
And she alone is heire to both of vs,
Giue her the right you should haue giu'n her cosin,
And so dies my reuenge.

Clau.

O noble sir!
2325 Your ouerkindnesse doth wring teares from me,
I do embrace your offer, and dispose
For henceforth of poore Claudio.

Leon.

To morrow then I will expect your comming,
To night I take my leaue, this naughtie man
2330 Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who I beleeue was packt in all this wrong,
Hired to it by your brother.

Bor.

No, by my soule she was not,
Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,
2335 But alwaies hath bin iust and vertuous,
In anie thing that I do know by her.

Const.

2337Moreouer sir, which indeede is not vnder white [l. 2338] and black, this plaintiffe here, the offendour did call mee [l. 2339] asse, I beseech you let it be remembred in his punish­ [l. 2340] ment, and also the vvatch watch heard them talke of one Defor­ [l. 2341] med, they say he weares a key in his eare and a lock hang­ [l. 2342] ing by it, and borrowes monie in Gods name, the which [l. 2343] he hath vs'd so long, and neuer paied, that now men grow [l. 2344] hardÓharted and will lend nothing for Gods sake: praie [l. 2345] you examine him vpon that point.

Leon.

2346I thanke thee for thy care and honest paines.

Const.

2347Your vvorship worship speakes like a most thankefull [l. 2348] and reuerend youth, and I praise God for you.

Leon.

2349There's for thy paines.

Const.

2350God saue the foundation.

Leon.

2351Goe, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I [l. 2352] thanke thee.

Const.

2353I leaue an arrant knaue vvith with your vvorship worship, [l. 2354] which I beseech your worship to correct your selfe, for [l. 2355] the example of others: God keepe your vvorship worship, I [l. 2356] wish your worship vvell well, God restore you to health, [l. 2357] I humblie giue you leaue to depart, and if a mer­ [l. 2358] rie meeting may be wisht, God prohibite it: come [l. 2359] neighbour.

Leon.

2360Vntill to morrow morning, Lords, farewell.

Exeunt.

Brot.

2361Farewell my Lords, vve we looke for you to mor­ [l. 2362] row.

Prin.

2363We will not faile.

Clau.

2364To night ile mourne with Hero:

Leon.

2365Bring you these fellowes on, weel talke vvith with [l. 2366] Margaret,How her acquaintance grew vvith with this lewd [l. 2367] fellow.

Exeunt.

[Act 5, Scene 2]

Enter Benedicke and Margaret.

Ben.

2368Praie thee sweete Mistris Margaret, deserue [l. 2369] vvell well at my hands, by helping mee to the speech of Bea­ [l. 2370] trice.

Mar. Will [p. 120] Much adoe about Nothing.

Mar.

2371Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of [l. 2372] my beautie?

Bene.

2373In so high a stile Margaret, that no man liuing [l. 2374] shall come ouer it, for in most comely truth thou deser­ [l. 2375] uest it.

Mar.

2376To haue no man come ouer me, why, shall I al­ [l. 2377] waies keepe below staires?

Bene.

2378Thy wit is as quicke as the grey‑hounds mouth, [l. 2379] it catches.

Mar.

2380And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which [l. 2381] hit, but hurt not.

Bene.

2382A most manly wit Margaret, it will not hurt a [l. 2383] woman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the [l. 2384] bucklers.

Mar.

2385Giue vs the swords, wee haue bucklers of our [l. 2386] owne.

Bene.

2387If you vse them Margaret, you must put in the [l. 2388] pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for [l. 2389] Maides.

Mar.

2390Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke [l. 2391] hath legges.

Exit Margarite.

Ben.

2392And therefore will come. The God of loue that [l. 2393] sits aboue, and knowes me, and knowes me, how pitti­ [l. 2394] full I deserue. I meane in singing, but in louing, Lean­ [l. 2395] der the good swimmer, Troilous the first imploier of [l. 2396] pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam car­ [l. 2397] pet‑mongers, whose name yet runne smoothly in the e­ [l. 2398] uen rode of a blanke verse, why they were neuer so true­ [l. 2399] ly turned ouer and ouer as my poore selfe in loue: mar­ [l. 2400] rie I cannot shew it rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no [l. 2401] rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent rime: for scorne, [l. 2402] horne, a hard time rime: for schoole foole, a babling time rime: [l. 2403] verie ominous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a ri­ [l. 2404] ming Plannet, for I cannot wooe in festiuall tearmes:

Enter Beatrice.

2405sweete Beatrice would'st thou come when I cal'd [l. 2406] thee?

Beat.

2407Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me.

Bene.

2408O stay but till then.

Beat.

2409Then, is spoken: fare you well now, and yet ere [l. 2410] I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with know­ [l. 2411] ing what hath past betweene you and Claudio.

Bene.

2412Onely foule words, and thereupon I will kisse [l. 2413] thee.

Beat.

2414Foule words is but foule wind, and foule wind [l. 2415] is but foule breath, and foule breath is noisome, there­ [l. 2416] fore I will depart vnkist.

Bene.

2417Thou hast frighted the word out of his right [l. 2418] sence, so forcible is thy wit, but I must tell thee plainely, [l. 2419] Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I must short­ [l. 2420] ly heare from him, or I will subscribe him a coward, and [l. 2421] I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst [l. 2422] thou first fall in loue with me?

Beat.

2423For them all together, which maintain'd so [l. 2424] politique a state of euill, that they will not admit any [l. 2425] good part to intermingle with them: but for which of [l. 2426] my good parts did you first suffer loue for me?

Bene.

2427Suffer loue! a good epithite, I do suffer loue in­ [l. 2428] deede, for I loue thee against my will.

Beat.

2429In spight of your heart I think, alas poore heart, [l. 2430] if you spight it for my sake, I will spight it for yours, for [l. 2431] I will neuer loue that which my friend hates.

Bened.

2432Thou and I are too wise to wooe peacea­ [l. 2433] blie.

Bea.

2434It appeares not in this confession, there's not one [l. 2435] wise man among twentie that will praise himselfe.

Bene.

2436An old, an old instance Beatrice, that liu'd in [l. 2437] the time of good neighbours, if a man doe not erect in [l. 2438] this age his owne tombe ere he dies, hee shall liue no [l. 2439] longer in monuments, then the Bels ring, & the Widdow [l. 2440] weepes.

Beat.

2441And how long is that thinke you?

Ben.

2442Question, why an hower in clamour and a quar­ [l. 2443] ter in rhewme, therfore is it most expedient for the wise, [l. 2444] if Don worme (his conscience) finde no impediment to [l. 2445] the contrarie, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as [l. 2446] I am to my selfe so much for praising my selfe, who I my [l. 2447] selfe will beare witnesse is praise worthie, and now tell [l. 2448] me, how doth your cosin?

Beat.

2449Verie ill.

Bene.

2450And how doe you?

Beat.

2451Verie ill too.

Enter Vrsula.

Bene.

2452Serue God, loue me, and mend, there will I leaue [l. 2453] you too, for here comes one in haste.

Vrs.

2454Madam, you must come to your Vncle, yon­ [l. 2455] ders old coile at home, it is prooued my Ladie He­ [l. 2456] ro hath bin falselie accusde, the Prince and Claudio [l. 2457] mightilie abusde, and Don Iohn is the author of all, who [l. 2458] is fled and gone: will you come presentlie?

Beat.

2459Will you go heare this newes Signior?

Bene.

2460I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be bu­ [l. 2461] ried in thy eies: and moreouer, I will goe with thee to [l. 2462] thy Vncles.

Exeunt.

[Act 5, Scene 3]

Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or foure with Tapers.

Clau.

Is this the monument of Leonato?

Lord.

It is my Lord.
Epitaph.
2465 Done to death by slanderous tongues,
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death in guérdon of her wrongs,
Giues her fame which neuer dies:
So the life that dyed with shame,
2470 Liues in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there vpon the tombe,
Praising her when I am dombe.

Clau.

Now musick sound & sing your solemn hymne
Song.
Pardon goddesse of the night,
2475 Those that slew thy virgin knight,
For the which with songs of woe,
Round about her tombe they goe:
Midnight assist our mone, helpe vs to sigh and grone.
Heauily, heauily.
2480 Graues yawne and yeelde your dead,
Till death be vttered,
Heauenly, heauenly.

Lo.

Now vnto thy bones good night, yeerely will I do
(this right.

Prin.

Good morrow masters, put your Torches out,
2485 The wolues haue preied, and looke, the gentle day
Before the wheeles of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsie East with spots of grey:
Thanks to you all, and leaue vs, fare you well.

Clau.

Good morrow mafters masters, each his seuerall way.

Prin.

2490 Come let vs hence, and put on other weedes,
And then to Leonatoes we will goe.

Clau.

And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds,
Then [p. 121] Much adoe about Nothing.
Then this for whom we rendred vp this woe.
Exeunt.

[Act 5, Scene 4]

Enter Leonato, Bene. Marg. Vrsula, old man, Frier, Hero.

Frier.

Did I not tell you she was innocent?

Leo.

2495 So are the Prince and Claudio who accus'd her,
Vpon the errour that you heard debated:
But Margaret was in some fault for this,
Although against her will as it appeares,
In the true course of all the question.

Old.

2500 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.

Leo.

Well daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by your selues,
2505 And when I send for you, come hither mask'd:
The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this howre
To visit me, you know your office Brother,
You must be father to your brothers daughter,
And giue her to young Claudio.
Exeunt Ladies.

Old.

2510 Which I will doe with confirm'd countenance.

Bene.

Frier, I must intreat your paines, I thinke.

Frier.

To doe what Signior?

Bene.

To binde me, or vndoe me, one of them:
Signior Leonato, truth it is good Signior,
2515 Your neece regards me with an eye of fauour.

Leo.

That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true.

Bene.

And I doe with an eye of loue requite her.

Leo.

The sight whereof I thinke you had from me,
From Claudio, and the Prince, but what's your will?

Bened.

2520 Your answer sir is Enigmaticall,
But for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand with ours, this day to be conioyn'd,
In the state of honourable marriage,
In which (good Frier) I shall desire your helpe.

Leon.

2525 My heart is with your liking.

Frier.

And my helpe.
Enter Prince and Claudio, with attendants.

Prin.

Good morrow to this faire assembly.

Leo.

Good morrow Prince, good morrow Claudio:
We heere attend you, are you yet determin'd,
2530 To day to marry with my brothers daughter?

Claud.

Ile hold my minde were she an Ethiope.

Leo.

Call her forth brother, heres the Frier ready.

Prin.

Good morrow Benedike Benedicke, why what's the matter?
That you haue such a Februarie face,
2535 So full of frost, of storme, and clowdinesse.

Claud.

I thinke he thinkes vpon the sauage bull:
Tush, feare not man, wee'll tip thy hornes with gold,
And all Europa shall reioyce at thee,
As once Europa did at lusty Ioue,
2540 When he would play the noble beast in loue.

Ben.

Bull Ioue sir, had an amiable low,
And some such strange bull leapt your fathers Cow,
A got a Calfe in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you haue iust his bleat.
Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Vrsula.

Cla.

2545 For this I owe you: here comes other recknings.
Which is the Lady I must seize vpon?

Leo.

This same is she, and I doe giue you her.

Cla.

Why then she's mine, sweet let me see your face.

Leon.

No that you shal not, till you take her hand,
2550 Before this Frier, and sweare to marry her.

Clau.

Giue me your hand before this holy Frier,
I am your husband if you like of me.

Hero.

And when I liu'd I was your other wife,
And when you lou'd, you were my other husband.

Clau.

2555 Another Hero?

Hero.

Nothing certainer.
One Hero died, but I doe liue,
And surely as I liue, I am a maid.

Prin.

The former Hero, Hero that is dead.

Leon.

2560 Shee died my Lord, but whiles her slander liu'd.

Frier.

All this amazement can I qualifie,
When after that the holy rites are ended,
Ile tell you largely of faire Heroes death:
Meane time let wonder seeme familiar,
2565 And to the chappell let vs presently.

Ben.

Soft and faire Frier, which is Beatrice?

Beat.

I answer to that name, what is your will?

Bene.

2568Doe not you loue me?

Beat.

2569Why no, no more then reason.

Bene.

2570Why then your Vncle, and the Prince, & Clau­ [l. 2571] dio, haue beene deceiued, they swore you did.

Beat.

2572Doe not you loue mee?

Bene.

Troth no, no more then reason.

Beat.

Why then my Cosin Margaret and Vrsula
2575 Are much deceiu'd, for they did sweare you did.

Bene.

2576They swore you were almost sicke for me.

Beat.

2577They swore you were welȑnye dead for me.

Bene.

2578'Tis no matter, then you doe not loue me?

Beat.

No truly, but in friendly recompence.

Leon.

2580 Come Cosin, I am sure you loue the gentleman.

Clau.

And Ile be sworne vpon't, that he loues her,
For heres a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his owne pure braine,
Fashioned to Beatrice.

Hero.

2585 And heeres another,
Writ in my cosins hand, stolne from her pocket,
Containing her affection vnto Benedicke.

Bene.

2588A miracle, here's our owne hands against our [l. 2589] hearts: come I will haue thee, but by this light I take [l. 2590] thee for pittie.

Beat.

2591I would not denie you, but by this good day, I [l. 2592] yeeld vpon great perswasion, & partly to saue your life, [l. 2593] for I was told, you were in a consumption.

Leon.

2594Peace I will stop your mouth.

Prin.

2595 How dost thou Benedicke the married man?

Bene.

2596Ile tell thee what Prince: a Colledge of witteȑ [l. 2597] crackers cannot flout mee out of my humour, dost thou [l. 2598] think I care for a Satyre or an Epigram? no, if a man will [l. 2599] be beaten with braines, a shall weare nothing handsome [l. 2600] about him: in briefe, since I do purpose to marry, I will [l. 2601] thinke nothing to any purpose that the world can say a­ [l. 2602] gainst it, and therefore neuer flout at me, for I haue said [l. 2603] against it: for man is a giddy thing, and this is my con­ [l. 2604] clusion: for thy part Claudio, I did thinke to haue beaten [l. 2605] thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, liue vn­ [l. 2606] bruis'd, and loue my cousin.

Cla.

2607I had well hop'd yu wouldst haue denied Beatrice, yt [l. 2608] I might haue cudgel'd thee out of thy single life, to make [l. 2609] thee a double dealer, which out of question thou wilt be, [l. 2610] if my Cousin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene.

2611Come, come, we are friends, let's haue a dance [l. 2612] ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, [l. 2613] and our wiues heeles.

Leon.

2614Wee'll haue dancing afterward.

Bene.

2615First, of my vvord word, therfore play musick. Prince, [l. 2616] thou art sad, get thee a vvife wife, get thee a vvife wife, there is no [l. 2617] staff more reuerend then one tipt with horn.

Enter. Mes.

Messen.

My Lord, your brother Iohn is tane in flight,
And brought with armed men backe to Messina.

Bene.

2620Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuise [l. 2621] thee braue punishments for him: strike vp Pipers. Dance.

L

FINIS.