A Room in LEONATO’S House. | |
| |
Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, MARGARET, URSULA, FRIAR FRANCIS, and HERO. | |
| Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? | |
| Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus’d her | 4 |
| Upon the error that you heard debated: | |
| But Margaret was in some fault for this, | |
| Although against her will, as it appears | |
| In the true course of all the question. | 8 |
| Ant. 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. | |
| Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, | 12 |
| Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves, | |
| And when I send for you, come hither mask’d: | |
| The prince and Claudio promis’d by this hour | |
| To visit me. [Exeunt ladies. | 16 |
| You know your office, brother; | |
| You must be father to your brother’s daughter, | |
| And give her to young Claudio. | |
| Ant. Which I will do with confirm’d countenance. | 20 |
| Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. | |
| Friar. To do what, signior? | |
| Bene. To bind me, or undo me; one of them. | |
| Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, | 24 |
| Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. | |
| Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: ’tis most true. | |
| Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. | |
| Leon. The sight whereof I think, you had from me, | 28 |
| From Claudio, and the prince. But what’s your will? | |
| Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical: | |
| But, for my will, my will is your good will | |
| May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin’d | 32 |
| In the state of honourable marriage: | |
| In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. | |
| Leon. My heart is with your liking. | |
| Friar. And my help. | 36 |
| Here come the prince and Claudio. | |
| |
Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO, with Attendants. | |
| D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. | |
| Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio: | 40 |
| We here attend you. Are you yet determin’d | |
| To-day to marry with my brother’s daughter? | |
| Claud. I’ll hold my mind, were she an Ethiop. | |
| Leon. Call her forth, brother: here’s the friar ready. [Exit ANTONIO. | 44 |
| D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what’s the matter, | |
| That you have such a February face, | |
| So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness? | |
| Claud. I think he thinks upon the savage bull. | 48 |
| Tush! fear not, man, we’ll tip thy horns with gold, | |
| And all Europa shall rejoice at thee, | |
| As once Europa did at lusty Jove, | |
| When he would play the noble beast in love. | 52 |
| Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low: | |
| And some such strange bull leap’d your father’s cow, | |
| And got a calf in that same noble feat, | |
| Much like to you, for you have just his bleat. | 56 |
| Claud. For this I owe you: here come other reckonings. | |
| |
Re-enter ANTONIO, with the ladies masked. | |
| Which is the lady I must seize upon? | |
| Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. | 60 |
| Claud. Why, then she’s mine. Sweet, let me see your face. | |
| Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand | |
| Before this friar, and swear to marry her. | |
| Claud. Give me your hand: before this holy friar, | 64 |
| I am your husband, if you like of me. | |
| Hero. And when I liv’d, I was your other wife: [Unmasking. | |
| And when you lov’d, you were my other husband. | |
| Claud. Another Hero! | 68 |
| Hero. Nothing certainer: | |
| One Hero died defil’d, but I do live, | |
| And surely as I live, I am a maid. | |
| D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! | 72 |
| Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander liv’d. | |
| Friar. All this amazement can I qualify: | |
| When after that the holy rites are ended, | |
| I’ll tell you largely of fair Hero’s death: | 76 |
| Meantime, let wonder seem familiar, | |
| And to the chapel let us presently. | |
| Bene. Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice? | |
| Beat. [Unmasking.] I answer to that name. | 80 |
| What is your will? | |
| Bene. Do not you love me? | |
| Beat. Why, no; no more than reason. | |
| Bene. Why, then, your uncle and the prince and Claudio | 84 |
| Have been deceived; for they swore you did. | |
| Beat. Do not you love me? | |
| Bene. Troth, no; no more than reason. | |
| Beat. Why, then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, | 88 |
| Are much deceiv’d; for they did swear you did. | |
| Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me. | |
| Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me. | |
| Bene. ’Tis no such matter. Then, you do not love me? | 92 |
| Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. | |
| Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. | |
| Claud. And I’ll be sworn upon ’t that he loves her; | |
| For here’s a paper written in his hand, | 96 |
| A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, | |
| Fashion’d to Beatrice. | |
| Hero. And here’s another, | |
| Writ in my cousin’s hand, stolen from her pocket, | 100 |
| Containing her affection unto Benedick. | |
| Bene. A miracle! here’s our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity. | |
| Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. | |
| Bene. Peace! I will stop your mouth. [Kisses her. | 104 |
| D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man? | |
| Bene. I’ll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No; if a man will be beaten with brains, a’ shall wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it, for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but, in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin. | |
| Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double-dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. | |
| Bene. Come, come, we are friends. Let’s have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts and our wives’ heels. | 108 |
| Leon. We’ll have dancing afterward. | |
| Bene. First, of my word; therefore play, music! Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn. | |
| |
Enter a Messenger. | |
| Mes. My lord, your brother John is ta’en in flight, | 112 |
| And brought with armed men back to Messina. | |
| Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: I’ll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers! [Dance. Exeunt. | |
