BiIIyBobNosePicker

Thanks for the thread

The original owner of this account passed away in January of 2013. He left it to his aunt, who was not interested in using it. I purchased it sometime in September of last year at a garage sale, as it was thrown in as part of a group of items including an Atari 2600 console, some Old Frothingslosh beer cans, an electronic fart generator, and a custom piglet bondage system with brass spikes and battery operated stimulator. It was supposed to hold the key to many treasures but I haven't found any yet.

That cache is the worst. Thanks!

Solving this puzzle is done by finding the numerology of the spelling errars.

What kind of name is that? You need something cool like me.

You should definitely wait until a few weeks after birth before carrying them out to go caching.

I don't have a problem with someone copying posts, but copying them in the same topic? That's just tacky. At least have the common decency to copy them in another topic in a completely different forum. But that's just my personal opinion.

As long as you gave credit for the copying the cache I don't see why not it would be nice to have more unique caches out there. Plus everywhere copy rights look at ford Toyota all the cars are the same.

Neat idea. I just may steal it without giving credit.

Those logs are mild. :o I just read a crazy one on GC47CY2 though. :ph34r:

April 3, 2015.

The best cacher in the world is here!!!

I was looking at what this cacher has accomplished, and I was completely amazed! What do you think?

:D :D :D :D :D

Hey! Thanks for the e-mail about the location! I'll be certain to wash my hands before I look for it also!

This issue has already been addressed by Ninja R. My Rewrite: Steps #1 - Actively look for a geocache, if not found, log as DNF! - Read past logs, Note if anyone has posted difficult find, or if the owner stated difficult find on the cache page. - You may want to contact the owner directly thru the Geocaching.com website. Step #2 - 2 weeks later, if no new logs (owner response), log needs maintenance. Step #3 - 1 month later, if still no new logs (owner response), log a needs archived. Step #4 - 1 month later, if the reviewer has not disabled, log needs archived Bring that Texas only has one reviewer and there are a multitude of geocaches being published, disabled, and archived daily. Follow - up can take up to and including several months as I have experienced. This re-write helps how? on rural infrequently found caches?? My 8 finds in 4 years cache is just a 2.5 terrain and 1.5 difficulty. Its just way out in the sticks - not difficult. I have logged DNF on caches rated 1 and 1.5 and 2 and then they were found by the next visitor. In some cases as much as a year later. Again - DNF does not equate to missing - it means Did Not Find. Your steps are terribly misleading. Please, I implore you to listen to some advice here for rural areas. It wouldn't need maintenence anyhow unless I found it and my fingers were greasy.

GCGWEH is near a deer skull along with the skin mounted on a tree about eye level. I was looking at the GPS and nearly walked directly into it.

Loves Labours Lost Shakespeare homepage | Love's Labour's Lost | Entire play ACT I SCENE I. The king of Navarre's park. Enter FERDINAND king of Navarre, BIRON, LONGAVILLE and DUMAIN FERDINAND Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, The endeavor of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors,--for so you are, That war against your own affections And the huge army of the world's desires,-- Our late edict shall strongly stand in force: Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; Our court shall be a little Academe, Still and contemplative in living art. You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville, Have sworn for three years' term to live with me My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes That are recorded in this schedule here: Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names, That his own hand may strike his honour down That violates the smallest branch herein: If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. LONGAVILLE I am resolved; 'tis but a three years' fast: The mind shall banquet, though the body pine: Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. DUMAIN My loving lord, Dumain is mortified: The grosser manner of these world's delights He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves: To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die; With all these living in philosophy. BIRON I can but say their protestation over; So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, That is, to live and study here three years. But there are other strict observances; As, not to see a woman in that term, Which I hope well is not enrolled there; And one day in a week to touch no food And but one meal on every day beside, The which I hope is not enrolled there; And then, to sleep but three hours in the night, And not be seen to wink of all the day-- When I was wont to think no harm all night And make a dark night too of half the day-- Which I hope well is not enrolled there: O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep! FERDINAND Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. BIRON Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: I only swore to study with your grace And stay here in your court for three years' space. LONGAVILLE You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. BIRON By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know. FERDINAND Why, that to know, which else we should not know. BIRON Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense? FERDINAND Ay, that is study's godlike recompense. BIRON Come on, then; I will swear to study so, To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus,--to study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid; Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath, Study to break it and not break my troth. If study's gain be thus and this be so, Study knows that which yet it doth not know: Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no. FERDINAND These be the stops that hinder study quite And train our intellects to vain delight. BIRON Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book To seek the light of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: Light seeking light doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. Study me how to please the eye indeed By fixing it upon a fairer eye, Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed And give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious sun That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks: Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. Too much to know is to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. FERDINAND How well he's read, to reason against reading! DUMAIN Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! LONGAVILLE He weeds the corn and still lets grow the weeding. BIRON The spring is near when green geese are a-breeding. DUMAIN How follows that? BIRON Fit in his place and time. DUMAIN In reason nothing. BIRON Something then in rhyme. FERDINAND Biron is like an envious sneaping frost, That bites the first-born infants of the spring. BIRON Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in any abortive birth? At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. So you, to study now it is too late, Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate. FERDINAND Well, sit you out: go home, Biron: adieu. BIRON No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: And though I have for barbarism spoke more Than for that angel knowledge you can say, Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore And bide the penance of each three years' day. Give me the paper; let me read the same; And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name. FERDINAND How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! BIRON [Reads] 'Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court:' Hath this been proclaimed? LONGAVILLE Four days ago. BIRON Let's see the penalty. Reads 'On pain of losing her tongue.' Who devised this penalty? LONGAVILLE Marry, that did I. BIRON Sweet lord, and why? LONGAVILLE To fright them hence with that dread penalty. BIRON A dangerous law against gentility! Reads 'Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.' This article, my liege, yourself must break; For well you know here comes in embassy The French king's daughter with yourself to speak-- A maid of grace and complete majesty-- About surrender up of Aquitaine To her decrepit, sick and bedrid father: Therefore this article is made in vain, Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. FERDINAND What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. BIRON So study evermore is overshot: While it doth study to have what it would It doth forget to do the thing it should, And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won as towns with fire, so won, so lost. FERDINAND We must of force dispense with this decree; She must lie here on mere necessity. BIRON Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years' space; For every man with his affects is born, Not by might master'd but by special grace: If I break faith, this word shall speak for me; I am forsworn on 'mere necessity.' So to the laws at large I write my name: Subscribes And he that breaks them in the least degree Stands in attainder of eternal shame: Suggestions are to other as to me; But I believe, although I seem so loath, I am the last that will last keep his oath. But is there no quick recreation granted? FERDINAND Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted With a refined traveller of Spain; A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain; One whom the music of his own vain tongue Doth ravish like enchanting harmony; A man of complements, whom right and wrong Have chose as umpire of their mutiny: This child of fancy, that Armado hight, For interim to our studies shall relate In high-born words the worth of many a knight From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate. How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; But, I protest, I love to hear him lie And I will use him for my minstrelsy. BIRON Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. LONGAVILLE Costard the swain and he shall be our sport; And so to study, three years is but short. Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD DULL Which is the duke's own person? BIRON This, fellow: what wouldst? DULL I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood. BIRON This is he. DULL Signior Arme--Arme--commends you. There's villany abroad: this letter will tell you more. COSTARD Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. FERDINAND A letter from the magnificent Armado. BIRON How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words. LONGAVILLE A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience! BIRON To hear? or forbear laughing? LONGAVILLE To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both. BIRON Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb in the merriness. COSTARD The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. BIRON In what manner? COSTARD In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is in manner and form following. Now, sir, for the manner,--it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,-- in some form. BIRON For the following, sir? COSTARD As it shall follow in my correction: and God defend the right! FERDINAND Will you hear this letter with attention? BIRON As we would hear an oracle. COSTARD Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh. FERDINAND [Reads] 'Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, and body's fostering patron.' COSTARD Not a word of Costard yet. FERDINAND [Reads] 'So it is,'-- COSTARD It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in telling true, but so. FERDINAND Peace! COSTARD Be to me and every man that dares not fight! FERDINAND No words! COSTARD Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. FERDINAND [Reads] 'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper: so much for the time when. Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon: it is y-cleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest; but to the place where; it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious- knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,'-- COSTARD Me? FERDINAND [Reads] 'that unlettered small-knowing soul,'-- COSTARD Me? FERDINAND [Reads] 'that shallow vassal,'-- COSTARD Still me? FERDINAND [Reads] 'which, as I remember, hight Costard,'-- COSTARD O, me! FERDINAND [Reads] 'sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, which with,--O, with--but with this I passion to say wherewith,-- COSTARD With a wench. FERDINAND [Reads] 'with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Anthony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.' DULL 'Me, an't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull. FERDINAND [Reads] 'For Jaquenetta,--so is the weaker vessel called which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,--I keep her as a vessel of the law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' BIRON This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. FERDINAND Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this? COSTARD Sir, I confess the wench. FERDINAND Did you hear the proclamation? COSTARD I do confess much of the hearing it but little of the marking of it. FERDINAND It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken with a wench. COSTARD I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damsel. FERDINAND Well, it was proclaimed 'damsel.' COSTARD This was no damsel, neither, sir; she was a virgin. FERDINAND It is so varied, too; for it was proclaimed 'virgin.' COSTARD If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid. FERDINAND This maid will not serve your turn, sir. COSTARD This maid will serve my turn, sir. FERDINAND Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water. COSTARD I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. FERDINAND And Don Armado shall be your keeper. My Lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er: And go we, lords, to put in practise that Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. Exeunt FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN BIRON I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. Sirrah, come on. COSTARD I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! Exeunt LOVE'S LABOURS LOST SCENE II. The same. Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? MOTH A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. MOTH No, no; O Lord, sir, no. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? MOTH By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Why tough senior? why tough senior? MOTH Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. MOTH And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Pretty and apt. MOTH How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Thou pretty, because little. MOTH Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO And therefore apt, because quick. MOTH Speak you this in my praise, master? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO In thy condign praise. MOTH I will praise an eel with the same praise. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO What, that an eel is ingenious? MOTH That an eel is quick. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood. MOTH I am answered, sir. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I love not to be crossed. MOTH [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I have promised to study three years with the duke. MOTH You may do it in an hour, sir. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Impossible. MOTH How many is one thrice told? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. MOTH You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man. MOTH Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO It doth amount to one more than two. MOTH Which the base vulgar do call three. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO True. MOTH Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO A most fine figure! MOTH To prove you a cipher. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort, me, boy: what great men have been in love? MOTH Hercules, master. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. MOTH Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter: and he was in love. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth? MOTH A woman, master. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Of what complexion? MOTH Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Tell me precisely of what complexion. MOTH Of the sea-water green, sir. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Is that one of the four complexions? MOTH As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Green indeed is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. MOTH It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO My love is most immaculate white and red. MOTH Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Define, define, well-educated infant. MOTH My father's wit and my mother's tongue, assist me! DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical! MOTH If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred And fears by pale white shown: Then if she fear, or be to blame, By this you shall not know, For still her cheeks possess the same Which native she doth owe. A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? MOTH The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but I think now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. MOTH [Aside] To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. MOTH And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I say, sing. MOTH Forbear till this company be past. Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA DULL Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I do betray myself with blushing. Maid! JAQUENETTA Man? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I will visit thee at the lodge. JAQUENETTA That's hereby. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I know where it is situate. JAQUENETTA Lord, how wise you are! DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I will tell thee wonders. JAQUENETTA With that face? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I love thee. JAQUENETTA So I heard you say. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO And so, farewell. JAQUENETTA Fair weather after you! DULL Come, Jaquenetta, away! Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned. COSTARD Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Thou shalt be heavily punished. COSTARD I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Take away this villain; shut him up. MOTH Come, you transgressing slave; away! COSTARD Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose. MOTH No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. COSTARD Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see. MOTH What shall some see? COSTARD Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet. Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil: there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club; and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. Exit LOVE'S LABOURS LOST ACT II SCENE I. The same. Enter the PRINCESS of France, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants BOYET Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits: Consider who the king your father sends, To whom he sends, and what's his embassy: Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, To parley with the sole inheritor Of all perfections that a man may owe, Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen. Be now as prodigal of all dear grace As Nature was in making graces dear When she did starve the general world beside And prodigally gave them all to you. PRINCESS Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye, Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues: I am less proud to hear you tell my worth Than you much willing to be counted wise In spending your wit in the praise of mine. But now to task the tasker: good Boyet, You are not ignorant, all-telling fame Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, Till painful study shall outwear three years, No woman may approach his silent court: Therefore to's seemeth it a needful course, Before we enter his forbidden gates, To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, Bold of your worthiness, we single you As our best-moving fair solicitor. Tell him, the daughter of the King of France, On serious business, craving quick dispatch, Importunes personal conference with his grace: Haste, signify so much; while we attend, Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will. BOYET Proud of employment, willingly I go. PRINCESS All pride is willing pride, and yours is so. Exit BOYET Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? First Lord Lord Longaville is one. PRINCESS Know you the man? MARIA I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast, Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized In Normandy, saw I this Longaville: A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil, Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will; Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills It should none spare that come within his power. PRINCESS Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? MARIA They say so most that most his humours know. PRINCESS Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest? KATHARINE The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue loved: Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill; For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, And shape to win grace though he had no wit. I saw him at the Duke Alencon's once; And much too little of that good I saw Is my report to his great worthiness. ROSALINE Another of these students at that time Was there with him, if I have heard a truth. Biron they call him; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal: His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse. PRINCESS God bless my ladies! are they all in love, That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? First Lord Here comes Boyet. Re-enter BOYET PRINCESS Now, what admittance, lord? BOYET Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he and his competitors in oath Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady, Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt: He rather means to lodge you in the field, Like one that comes here to besiege his court, Than seek a dispensation for his oath, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. Enter FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants FERDINAND Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. PRINCESS 'Fair' I give you back again; and 'welcome' I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine. FERDINAND You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. PRINCESS I will be welcome, then: conduct me thither. FERDINAND Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. PRINCESS Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. FERDINAND Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. PRINCESS Why, will shall break it; will and nothing else. FERDINAND Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. PRINCESS Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. I hear your grace hath sworn out house-keeping: Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, And sin to break it. But pardon me. I am too sudden-bold: To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me. Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, And suddenly resolve me in my suit. FERDINAND Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. PRINCESS You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjured if you make me stay. BIRON Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? ROSALINE Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? BIRON I know you did. ROSALINE How needless was it then to ask the question! BIRON You must not be so quick. ROSALINE 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. BIRON Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. ROSALINE Not till it leave the rider in the mire. BIRON What time o' day? ROSALINE The hour that fools should ask. BIRON Now fair befall your mask! ROSALINE Fair fall the face it covers! BIRON And send you many lovers! ROSALINE Amen, so you be none. BIRON Nay, then will I be gone. FERDINAND Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say that he or we, as neither have, Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, One part of Aquitaine is bound to us, Although not valued to the money's worth. If then the king your father will restore But that one half which is unsatisfied, We will give up our right in Aquitaine, And hold fair friendship with his majesty. But that, it seems, he little purposeth, For here he doth demand to have repaid A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, To have his title live in Aquitaine; Which we much rather had depart withal And have the money by our father lent Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is. Dear Princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast And go well satisfied to France again. PRINCESS You do the king my father too much wrong And wrong the reputation of your name, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. FERDINAND I do protest I never heard of it; And if you prove it, I'll repay it back Or yield up Aquitaine. PRINCESS We arrest your word. Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum from special officers Of Charles his father. FERDINAND Satisfy me so. BOYET So please your grace, the packet is not come Where that and other specialties are bound: To-morrow you shall have a sight of them. FERDINAND It shall suffice me: at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime receive such welcome at my hand As honour without breach of honour may Make tender of to thy true worthiness: You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so received As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: To-morrow shall we visit you again. PRINCESS Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! FERDINAND Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! Exit BIRON Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart. ROSALINE Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. BIRON I would you heard it groan. ROSALINE Is the fool sick? BIRON Sick at the heart. ROSALINE Alack, let it blood. BIRON Would that do it good? ROSALINE My physic says 'ay.' BIRON Will you prick't with your eye? ROSALINE No point, with my knife. BIRON Now, God save thy life! ROSALINE And yours from long living! BIRON I cannot stay thanksgiving. Retiring DUMAIN Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same? BOYET The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name. DUMAIN A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well. Exit LONGAVILLE I beseech you a word: what is she in the white? BOYET A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. LONGAVILLE Perchance light in the light. I desire her name. BOYET She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame. LONGAVILLE Pray you, sir, whose daughter? BOYET Her mother's, I have heard. LONGAVILLE God's blessing on your beard! BOYET Good sir, be not offended. She is an heir of Falconbridge. LONGAVILLE Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most sweet lady. BOYET Not unlike, sir, that may be. Exit LONGAVILLE BIRON What's her name in the cap? BOYET Rosaline, by good hap. BIRON Is she wedded or no? BOYET To her will, sir, or so. BIRON You are welcome, sir: adieu. BOYET Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. Exit BIRON MARIA That last is Biron, the merry madcap lord: Not a word with him but a jest. BOYET And every jest but a word. PRINCESS It was well done of you to take him at his word. BOYET I was as willing to grapple as he was to board. MARIA Two hot sheeps, marry. BOYET And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. MARIA You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest? BOYET So you grant pasture for me. Offering to kiss her MARIA Not so, gentle beast: My lips are no common, though several they be. BOYET Belonging to whom? MARIA To my fortunes and me. PRINCESS Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree: This civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused. BOYET If my observation, which very seldom lies, By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. PRINCESS With what? BOYET With that which we lovers entitle affected. PRINCESS Your reason? BOYET Why, all his behaviors did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: His heart, like an agate, with your print impress'd, Proud with his form, in his eye pride express'd: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be; All senses to that sense did make their repair, To feel only looking on fairest of fair: Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye, As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy; Who, tendering their own worth from where they were glass'd, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd: His face's own margent did quote such amazes That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes. I'll give you Aquitaine and all that is his, An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. PRINCESS Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed. BOYET But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclosed. I only have made a mouth of his eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. ROSALINE Thou art an old love-monger and speakest skilfully. MARIA He is Cupid's grandfather and learns news of him. ROSALINE Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is but grim. BOYET Do you hear, my mad wenches? MARIA No. BOYET What then, do you see? ROSALINE Ay, our way to be gone. BOYET You are too hard for me. Exeunt LOVE'S LABOURS LOST ACT III SCENE I. The same. Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. MOTH Concolinel. Singing DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love. MOTH Master, will you win your love with a French brawl? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO How meanest thou? brawling in French? MOTH No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love, sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away. These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note--do you note me?--that most are affected to these. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO How hast thou purchased this experience? MOTH By my penny of observation. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO But O,--but O,-- MOTH 'The hobby-horse is forgot.' DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Callest thou my love 'hobby-horse'? MOTH No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Almost I had. MOTH Negligent student! learn her by heart. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO By heart and in heart, boy. MOTH And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO What wilt thou prove? MOTH A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: by heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I am all these three. MOTH And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Fetch hither the swain: he must carry me a letter. MOTH A message well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador for an a**. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Ha, ha! what sayest thou? MOTH Marry, sir, you must send the a** upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO The way is but short: away! MOTH As swift as lead, sir. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO The meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? MOTH Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I say lead is slow. MOTH You are too swift, sir, to say so: Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Sweet smoke of rhetoric! He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he: I shoot thee at the swain. MOTH Thump then and I flee. Exit DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace! By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face: Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. My herald is return'd. Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD MOTH A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l'envoy; begin. COSTARD No enigma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! no l'envoy, no l'envoy; no salve, sir, but a plantain! DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a salve? MOTH Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve? DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. I will example it: The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. There's the moral. Now the l'envoy. MOTH I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. MOTH Until the goose came out of door, And stay'd the odds by adding four. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l'envoy. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four. MOTH A good l'envoy, ending in the goose: would you desire more? COSTARD The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat. Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat. To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose: Let me see; a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin? MOTH By saying that a costard was broken in a shin. Then call'd you for the l'envoy. COSTARD True, and I for a plantain: thus came your argument in; Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought; And he ended the market. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO But tell me; how was there a costard broken in a shin? MOTH I will tell you sensibly. COSTARD Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak that l'envoy: I Costard, running out, that was safely within, Fell over the threshold and broke my shin. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO We will talk no more of this matter. COSTARD Till there be more matter in the shin. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee. COSTARD O, marry me to one Frances: I smell some l'envoy, some goose, in this. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound. COSTARD True, true; and now you will be my purgation and let me loose. DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this significant Giving a letter to the country maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. Exit MOTH Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu. COSTARD My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew! Exit MOTH Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings--remuneration.--'What's the price of this inkle?'--'One penny.'--'No, I'll give you a remuneration:' why, it carries it. Remuneration! why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word. Enter BIRON BIRON O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met. COSTARD Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration? BIRON What is a remuneration? COSTARD Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing. BIRON Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk. COSTARD I thank your worship: God be wi' you! BIRON Stay, slave; I must employ thee: As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave, Do one thing for me that I shall entreat. COSTARD When would you have it done, sir? BIRON This afternoon. COSTARD Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well. BIRON Thou knowest not what it is. COSTARD I shall know, sir, when I have done it. BIRON Why, villain, thou must know first. COSTARD I will come to your worship to-morrow morning. BIRON It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this: The princess comes to hunt here in the park, And in her train there is a gentle lady; When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name, And Rosaline they call her: ask for her; And to her white hand see thou do commend This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go. Giving him a shilling COSTARD Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration, a'leven-pence farthing better: most sweet gardon! I will do it sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration! Exit BIRON And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip; A very beadle to a humorous sigh; A critic, nay, a night-watch constable; A domineering pedant o'er the boy; Than whom no mortal so magnificent! This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy; This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces, Sole imperator and great general Of trotting 'paritors:--O my little heart:-- And I to be a corporal of his field, And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop! What, I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife! A woman, that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watch'd that it may still go right! Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all; And, among three, to love the worst of all; A wightly wanton with a velvet brow, With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes; Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard: And I to sigh for her! to watch for her! To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague That Cupid will impose for my neglect Of his almighty dreadful little might. Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan: Some men must love my lady and some Joan. Exit LOVE'S LABOURS LOST ACT IV SCENE I. The same. Enter the PRINCESS, and her train, a Forester, BOYET, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE PRINCESS Was that the king, that spurred his horse so hard Against the steep uprising of the hill? BOYET I know not; but I think it was not he. PRINCESS Whoe'er a' was, a' show'd a mounting mind. Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch: On Saturday we will return to France. Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush That we must stand and play the murderer in? Forester Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice; A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. PRINCESS I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot. Forester Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. PRINCESS What, what? first praise me and again say no? O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe! Forester Yes, madam, fair. PRINCESS Nay, never paint me now: Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. Here, good my glass, take this for telling true: Fair payment for foul words is more than due. Forester Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. PRINCESS See see, my beauty will be saved by merit! O heresy in fair, fit for these days! A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill, And shooting well is then accounted ill. Thus will I save my credit in the shoot: Not wounding, pity would not let me do't; If wounding, then it was to show my skill, That more for praise than purpose meant to kill. And out of question so it is sometimes, Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, We bend to that the working of the heart; As I for praise alone now seek to spill The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill. BOYET Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty Only for praise sake, when they strive to be Lords o'er their lords? PRINCESS Only for praise: and praise we may afford To any lady that subdues a lord. BOYET Here comes a member of the commonwealth. Enter COSTARD COSTARD God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady? PRINCESS Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads. COSTARD Which is the greatest lady, the highest? PRINCESS The thickest and the tallest. COSTARD The thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth. An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit. Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here. PRINCESS What's your will, sir? what's your will? COSTARD I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline. PRINCESS O, thy letter, thy letter! he's a good friend of mine: Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve; Break up this capon. BOYET I am bound to serve. This letter is mistook, it importeth none here; It is writ to Jaquenetta. PRINCESS We will read it, I swear. Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. Reads BOYET 'By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, vici; which to annothanize in the vulgar,--O base and obscure vulgar!--videlicet, He came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw two; overcame, three. Who came? the king: why did he come? to see: why did he see? to overcome: to whom came he? to the beggar: what saw he? the beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The conclusion is victory: on whose side? the king's. The captive is enriched: on whose side? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose side? the king's: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce thy love? I could: shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture. and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey. Submissive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play: But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. PRINCESS What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better? BOYET I am much deceived but I remember the style. PRINCESS Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile. BOYET This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport To the prince and his bookmates. PRINCESS Thou fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter? COSTARD I told you; my lord. PRINCESS To whom shouldst thou give it? COSTARD From my lord to my lady. PRINCESS From which lord to which lady? COSTARD From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline. PRINCESS Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. To ROSALINE Here, sweet, put up this: 'twill be thine another day. Exeunt PRINCESS and train BOYET Who is the suitor? who is the suitor? ROSALINE Shall I teach you to know? BOYET Ay, my continent of beauty. ROSALINE Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off! BOYET My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on! ROSALINE Well, then, I am the shooter. BOYET And who is your deer? ROSALINE If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near. Finely put on, indeed! MARIA You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow. BOYET But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now? ROSALINE Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? BOYET So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. ROSALINE Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, Thou canst not hit it, my good man. BOYET An I cannot, cannot, cannot, An I cannot, another can. Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE COSTARD By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it! MARIA A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it. BOYET A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady! Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be. MARIA Wide o' the bow hand! i' faith, your hand is out. COSTARD Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout. BOYET An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. COSTARD Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. MARIA Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. COSTARD She's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl. BOYET I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. Exeunt BOYET and MARIA COSTARD By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Armado o' th' one side,--O, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan! To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will swear! And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit! Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit! Sola, sola! Shout within Exit COSTARD, running LOVE'S LABOURS LOST SCENE II. The same. Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL SIR NATHANIEL Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience. HOLOFERNES The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in blood; ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of caelo, the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth. SIR NATHANIEL Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: but, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. HOLOFERNES Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. DULL 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket. HOLOFERNES Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his inclination, after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather, unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer. DULL I said the deer was not a haud credo; twas a pricket. HOLOFERNES Twice-sod simplicity, his coctus! O thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! SIR NATHANIEL Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts: And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be, Which we of taste and feeling are, for those parts that do fructify in us more than he. For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool, So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school: But omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. DULL You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet? HOLOFERNES Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull. DULL What is Dictynna? SIR NATHANIEL A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. HOLOFERNES The moon was a month old when Adam was no more, And raught not

The Tragedy of Macbeth Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play ACT I SCENE I. A desert place. Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches First Witch When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? Second Witch When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won. Third Witch That will be ere the set of sun. First Witch Where the place? Second Witch Upon the heath. Third Witch There to meet with Macbeth. First Witch I come, Graymalkin! Second Witch Paddock calls. Third Witch Anon. ALL Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air. Exeunt SCENE II. A camp near Forres. Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant DUNCAN What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state. MALCOLM This is the sergeant Who like a good and hardy soldier fought 'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it. Sergeant Doubtful it stood; As two spent swimmers, that do cling together And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- Worthy to be a rebel, for to that The multiplying villanies of nature Do swarm upon him--from the western isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements. DUNCAN O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sergeant As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had with valour arm'd Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men Began a fresh assault. DUNCAN Dismay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Sergeant Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorise another Golgotha, I cannot tell. But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. DUNCAN So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. Exit Sergeant, attended Who comes here? Enter ROSS MALCOLM The worthy thane of Ross. LENNOX What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange. ROSS God save the king! DUNCAN Whence camest thou, worthy thane? ROSS From Fife, great king; Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold. Norway himself, With terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, The victory fell on us. DUNCAN Great happiness! ROSS That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use. DUNCAN No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth. ROSS I'll see it done. DUNCAN What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. Exeunt SCENE III. A heath near Forres. Thunder. Enter the three Witches First Witch Where hast thou been, sister? Second Witch Killing swine. Third Witch Sister, where thou? First Witch A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- 'Give me,' quoth I: 'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: But in a sieve I'll thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. Second Witch I'll give thee a wind. First Witch Thou'rt kind. Third Witch And I another. First Witch I myself have all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I' the shipman's card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid; He shall live a man forbid: Weary se'nnights nine times nine Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: Though his bark cannot be lost, Yet it shall be tempest-tost. Look what I have. Second Witch Show me, show me. First Witch Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd as homeward he did come. Drum within Third Witch A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come. ALL The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine and thrice to mine And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace! the charm's wound up. Enter MACBETH and BANQUO MACBETH So foul and fair a day I have not seen. BANQUO How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her chappy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. MACBETH Speak, if you can: what are you? First Witch All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! Second Witch All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! Third Witch All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! BANQUO Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate. First Witch Hail! Second Witch Hail! Third Witch Hail! First Witch Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. Second Witch Not so happy, yet much happier. Third Witch Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! First Witch Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! MACBETH Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. Witches vanish BANQUO The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? MACBETH Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! BANQUO Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? MACBETH Your children shall be kings. BANQUO You shall be king. MACBETH And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? BANQUO To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? Enter ROSS and ANGUS ROSS The king hath happily received, Macbeth, The news of thy success; and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post with post; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd them down before him. ANGUS We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee. ROSS And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine. BANQUO What, can the devil speak true? MACBETH The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes? ANGUS Who was the thane lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, Have overthrown him. MACBETH [Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! The greatest is behind. To ROSS and ANGUS Thanks for your pains. To BANQUO Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me Promised no less to them? BANQUO That trusted home Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you. MACBETH [Aside] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. Aside Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings: My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man that function Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is But what is not. BANQUO Look, how our partner's rapt. MACBETH [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. BANQUO New horrors come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use. MACBETH [Aside] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. BANQUO Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. MACBETH Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. BANQUO Very gladly. MACBETH Till then, enough. Come, friends. Exeunt SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants DUNCAN Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd? MALCOLM My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke With one that saw him die: who did report That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, Implored your highness' pardon and set forth A deep repentance: nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he owed, As 'twere a careless trifle. DUNCAN There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust. Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS O worthiest cousin! The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me: thou art so far before That swiftest wing of recompense is slow To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, That the proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been mine! only I have left to say, More is thy due than more than all can pay. MACBETH The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part Is to receive our duties; and our duties Are to your throne and state children and servants, Which do but what they should, by doing every thing Safe toward your love and honour. DUNCAN Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, That hast no less deserved, nor must be known No less to have done so, let me enfold thee And hold thee to my heart. BANQUO There if I grow, The harvest is your own. DUNCAN My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you. MACBETH The rest is labour, which is not used for you: I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So humbly take my leave. DUNCAN My worthy Cawdor! MACBETH [Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. Exit DUNCAN True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman. Flourish. Exeunt SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter LADY MACBETH 'They met me in the day of success: and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.' Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal. Enter a Messenger What is your tidings? Messenger The king comes here to-night. LADY MACBETH Thou'rt mad to say it: Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Would have inform'd for preparation. Messenger So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him, Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message. LADY MACBETH Give him tending; He brings great news. Exit Messenger The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!' Enter MACBETH Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! Thy letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant. MACBETH My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night. LADY MACBETH And when goes hence? MACBETH To-morrow, as he purposes. LADY MACBETH O, never Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under't. He that's coming Must be provided for: and you shall put This night's great business into my dispatch; Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. MACBETH We will speak further. LADY MACBETH Only look up clear; To alter favour ever is to fear: Leave all the rest to me. Exeunt SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants DUNCAN This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. BANQUO This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, The air is delicate. Enter LADY MACBETH DUNCAN See, see, our honour'd hostess! The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. LADY MACBETH All our service In every point twice done and then done double Were poor and single business to contend Against those honours deep and broad wherewith Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, And the late dignities heap'd up to them, We rest your hermits. DUNCAN Where's the thane of Cawdor? We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest to-night. LADY MACBETH Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, Still to return your own. DUNCAN Give me your hand; Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, And shall continue our graces towards him. By your leave, hostess. Exeunt SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH MACBETH If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other. Enter LADY MACBETH How now! what news? LADY MACBETH He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? MACBETH Hath he ask'd for me? LADY MACBETH Know you not he has? MACBETH We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. LADY MACBETH Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage? MACBETH Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. LADY MACBETH What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this. MACBETH If we should fail? LADY MACBETH We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell? MACBETH Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be received, When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, That they have done't? LADY MACBETH Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death? MACBETH I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. Exeunt ACT II SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him BANQUO How goes the night, boy? FLEANCE The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. BANQUO And she goes down at twelve. FLEANCE I take't, 'tis later, sir. BANQUO Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose! Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch Give me my sword. Who's there? MACBETH A friend. BANQUO What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: He hath been in unusual pleasure, and Sent forth great largess to your offices. This diamond he greets your wife withal, By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up In measureless content. MACBETH Being unprepared, Our will became the servant to defect; Which else should free have wrought. BANQUO All's well. I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: To you they have show'd some truth. MACBETH I think not of them: Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, We would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time. BANQUO At your kind'st leisure. MACBETH If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It shall make honour for you. BANQUO So I lose none In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, I shall be counsell'd. MACBETH Good repose the while! BANQUO Thanks, sir: the like to you! Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE MACBETH Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Exit Servant Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. A bell rings I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven or to hell. Exit SCENE II. The same. Enter LADY MACBETH LADY MACBETH That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live or die. MACBETH [Within] Who's there? what, ho! LADY MACBETH Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't. Enter MACBETH My husband! MACBETH I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? LADY MACBETH I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? MACBETH When? LADY MACBETH Now. MACBETH As I descended? LADY MACBETH Ay. MACBETH Hark! Who lies i' the second chamber? LADY MACBETH Donalbain. MACBETH This is a sorry sight. Looking on his hands LADY MACBETH A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. MACBETH There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried 'Murder!' That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep. LADY MACBETH There are two lodged together. MACBETH One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' When they did say 'God bless us!' LADY MACBETH Consider it not so deeply. MACBETH But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat. LADY MACBETH These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. MACBETH Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- LADY MACBETH What do you mean? MACBETH Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' LADY MACBETH Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them; and smear The sleepy grooms with blood. MACBETH I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on't again I dare not. LADY MACBETH Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; For it must seem their guilt. Exit. Knocking within MACBETH Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, Making the green one red. Re-enter LADY MACBETH LADY MACBETH My hands are of your colour; but I shame To wear a heart so white. Knocking within I hear a knocking At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended. Knocking within Hark! more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. MACBETH To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. Knocking within Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! Exeunt SCENE III. The same. Knocking within. Enter a Porter Porter Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. Knocking within Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty: come in time; have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat for't. Knocking within Knock, knock! Who's there, in the other devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. Knocking within Knock, knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. Knocking within Knock, knock; never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. Knocking within Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. Opens the gate Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX MACDUFF Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late? Porter 'Faith sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things. MACDUFF What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance: therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. MACDUFF I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. Porter That it did, sir, i' the very throat on me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him. MACDUFF Is thy master stirring? Enter MACBETH Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. LENNOX Good morrow, noble sir. MACBETH Good morrow, both. MACDUFF Is the king stirring, worthy thane? MACBETH Not yet. MACDUFF He did command me to call timely on him: I have almost slipp'd the hour. MACBETH I'll bring you to him. MACDUFF I know this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet 'tis one. MACBETH The labour we delight in physics pain. This is the door. MACDUFF I'll make so bold to call, For 'tis my limited service. Exit LENNOX Goes the king hence to-day? MACBETH He does: he did appoint so. LENNOX The night has been unruly: where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, And prophesying with accents terrible Of dire combustion and confused events New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth Was feverous and did shake. MACBETH 'Twas a rough night. LENNOX My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it. Re-enter MACDUFF MACDUFF O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee! MACBETH LENNOX What's the matter. MACDUFF Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' the building! MACBETH What is 't you say? the life? LENNOX Mean you his majesty? MACDUFF Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; See, and then speak yourselves. Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX Awake, awake! Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself! up, up, and see The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. Bell rings Enter LADY MACBETH LADY MACBETH What's the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! MACDUFF O gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear, Would murder as it fell. Enter BANQUO O Banquo, Banquo, Our royal master 's murder'd! LADY MACBETH Woe, alas! What, in our house? BANQUO Too cruel any where. Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, And say it is not so. Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS MACBETH Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, There 's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of. Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN DONALBAIN What is amiss? MACBETH You are, and do not know't: The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. MACDUFF Your royal father 's murder'd. MALCOLM O, by whom? LENNOX Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; So were their daggers, which unwiped we found Upon their pillows: They stared, and were distracted; no man's life Was to be trusted with them. MACBETH O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them. MACDUFF Wherefore did you so? MACBETH Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: The expedition my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin laced with his golden blood; And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart Courage to make 's love kno wn? LADY MACBETH Help me hence, ho! MACDUFF Look to the lady. MALCOLM [Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours? DONALBAIN [Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? Let 's away; Our tears are not yet brew'd. MALCOLM [Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion. BANQUO Look to the lady: LADY MACBETH is carried out And when we have our naked frailties hid, That suffer in exposure, let us meet, And question this most bloody piece of work, To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: In the great hand of God I stand; and thence Against the undivulged pretence I fight Of treasonous malice. MACDUFF And so do I. ALL So all. MACBETH Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i' the hall together. ALL Well contented. Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. MALCOLM What will you do? Let's not consort with them: To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. DONALBAIN To Ireland, I; our separated fortune Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, The nearer bloody. MALCOLM This murderous shaft that's shot Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, But shift away: there's warrant in that theft Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. Exeunt SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. Enter ROSS and an old Man Old Man Threescore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night Hath trifled former knowings. ROSS Ah, good father, Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it? Old Man 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, A falcon, towering in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. ROSS And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind. Old Man 'Tis said they eat each other. ROSS They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. Enter MACDUFF How goes the world, sir, now? MACDUFF Why, see you not? ROSS Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? MACDUFF Those that Macbeth hath slain. ROSS Alas, the day! What good could they pretend? MACDUFF They were suborn'd: Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them Suspicion of the deed. ROSS 'Gainst nature still! Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. MACDUFF He is already named, and gone to Scone To be invested. ROSS Where is Duncan's body? MACDUFF Carried to Colmekill, The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, And guardian of their bones. ROSS Will you to Scone? MACDUFF No, cousin, I'll to Fife. ROSS Well, I will thither. MACDUFF Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! ROSS Farewell, father. Old Man God's benison go with you; and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! Exeunt ACT III SCENE I. Forres. The palace. Enter BANQUO BANQUO Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the weird women promised, and, I fear, Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said It should not stand in thy posterity, But that myself should be the root and father Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants MACBETH Here's our chief guest. LADY MACBETH If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming. MACBETH To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, And I'll request your presence. BANQUO Let your highness Command upon me; to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie For ever knit. MACBETH Ride you this afternoon? BANQUO Ay, my good lord. MACBETH We should have else desired your good advice, Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride? BANQUO As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain. MACBETH Fail not our feast. BANQUO My lord, I will not. MACBETH We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd In England and in Ireland, not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, When therewithal we shall have cause of state Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? BANQUO Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. MACBETH I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. Exit BANQUO Let every man be master of his time Till seven at night: to make society The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men Our pleasure? ATTENDANT They are, my lord, without the palace gate. MACBETH Bring them before us. Exit Attendant To be thus is nothing; But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety. There is none but he Whose being I do fear: and, under him, My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like They hail'd him father to a line of kings: Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; Put rancours in the vessel of my peace Only for them; and mine eternal jewel Given to the common enemy of man, To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! Rather than so, come fate into the list. And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. Exit Attendant Was it not yesterday we spoke together? First Murderer It was, so please your highness. MACBETH Well then, now Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know That it was he in the times past which held you So under fortune, which you thought had been Our innocent self: this I made good to you In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, the instruments, Who wrought with them, and all things else that might To half a soul and to a notion crazed Say 'Thus did Banquo.' First Murderer You made it known to us. MACBETH I did so, and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd To pray for this good man and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave And beggar'd yours for ever? First Murderer We are men, my liege. MACBETH Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive Particular addition. from the bill That writes them all alike: and so of men. Now, if you have a station in the file, Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off, Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but sickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect. Second Murderer I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world. First Murderer And I another So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my lie on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on't. MACBETH Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy. Both Murderers True, my lord. MACBETH So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near'st of life: and though I could With barefaced power sweep him from my sight And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, That I to your assistance do make love, Masking the business from the common eye For sundry weighty reasons. Second Murderer We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us. First Murderer Though our lives-- MACBETH Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most I will advise you where to plant yourselves; Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, And something from the palace; always thought That I require a clearness: and with him-- To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- Fleance his son, that keeps him company, Whose absence is no less material to me Than is his father's, must embrace the fate Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: I'll come to you anon. Both Murderers We are resolved, my lord. MACBETH I'll call upon you straight: abide within. Exeunt Murderers It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. Exit SCENE II. The palace. Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant LADY MACBETH Is Banquo gone from court? Servant Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. LADY MACBETH Say to the king, I would attend his leisure For a few words. Servant Madam, I will. Exit LADY MACBETH Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content: 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. Enter MACBETH How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, Of sorriest fancies your companions making, Using those thoughts which should indeed have died With them they think on? Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what's done is done. MACBETH We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further. LADY MACBETH Come on; Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. MACBETH So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, And make our faces vizards to our hearts, Disguising what they are. LADY MACBETH You must leave this. MACBETH O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. LADY MACBETH But in them nature's copy's not eterne. MACBETH There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note. LADY MACBETH What's to be done? MACBETH Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. So, prithee, go with me. Exeunt SCENE III. A park near the palace. Enter three Murderers First Murderer But who did bid thee join with us? Third Murderer Macbeth. Second Murderer He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just. First Murderer Then stand with us. The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch. Third Murderer Hark! I hear horses. BANQUO [Within] Give us a light there, ho! Second Murderer Then 'tis he: the rest That are within the note of expectation Already are i' the court. First Murderer His horses go about. Third Murderer Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk. Second Murderer A light, a light! Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch Third Murderer 'Tis he. First Murderer Stand to't. BANQUO It will be rain to-night. First Murderer Let it come down. They set upon BANQUO BANQUO O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge. O slave! Dies. FLEANCE escapes Third Murderer Who did strike out the light? First Murderer Wast not the way? Third Murderer There's but one down; the son is fled. Second Murderer We have lost Best half of our affair. First Murderer Well, let's away, and say how much is done. Exeunt SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants MACBETH You know your own degrees; sit down: at first And last the hearty welcome. Lords Thanks to your majesty. MACBETH Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time We will require her welcome. LADY MACBETH Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome. First Murderer appears at the door MACBETH See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure The table round. Approaching the door There's blood on thy face. First Murderer 'Tis Banquo's then. MACBETH 'Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch'd? First Murderer My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. MACBETH Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil. First Murderer Most royal sir, Fleance is 'scaped. MACBETH Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casing air: But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? First Murderer Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature. MACBETH Thanks for that: There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow We'll hear, ourselves, again. Exit Murderer LADY MACBETH My royal lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, 'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it. MACBETH Sweet remembrancer! Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both! LENNOX May't please your highness sit. The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place MACBETH Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the graced person of our Banquo present; Who may I rather challenge for unkindness Than pity for mischance! ROSS His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness To grace us with your royal company. MACBETH The table's full. LENNOX Here is a place reserved, sir. MACBETH Where? LENNOX Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? MACBETH Which of you have done this? Lords What, my good lord? MACBETH Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me. ROSS Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. LADY MACBETH

Much Ado About Nothing Shakespeare homepage | Much Ado About Nothing | Entire play ACT I SCENE I. Before LEONATO'S house. Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a Messenger LEONATO I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Messenger He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him. LEONATO How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? Messenger But few of any sort, and none of name. LEONATO A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio. Messenger Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how. LEONATO He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it. Messenger I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness. LEONATO Did he break out into tears? Messenger In great measure. LEONATO A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping! BEATRICE I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no? Messenger I know none of that name, lady: there was none such in the army of any sort. LEONATO What is he that you ask for, niece? HERO My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua. Messenger O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was. BEATRICE He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing. LEONATO Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Messenger He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. BEATRICE You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach. Messenger And a good soldier too, lady. BEATRICE And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord? Messenger A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues. BEATRICE It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,--well, we are all mortal. LEONATO You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her: they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them. BEATRICE Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother. Messenger Is't possible? BEATRICE Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block. Messenger I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. BEATRICE No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil? Messenger He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. BEATRICE O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a' be cured. Messenger I will hold friends with you, lady. BEATRICE Do, good friend. LEONATO You will never run mad, niece. BEATRICE No, not till a hot January. Messenger Don Pedro is approached. Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and BALTHASAR DON PEDRO Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. LEONATO Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave. DON PEDRO You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is your daughter. LEONATO Her mother hath many times told me so. BENEDICK Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? LEONATO Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child. DON PEDRO You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an honourable father. BENEDICK If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is. BEATRICE I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you. BENEDICK What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? BEATRICE Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence. BENEDICK Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none. BEATRICE A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me. BENEDICK God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face. BEATRICE Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. BEATRICE A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours. BENEDICK I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done. BEATRICE You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old. DON PEDRO That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at the least a month; and he heartily prays some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart. LEONATO If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. To DON JOHN Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. DON JOHN I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you. LEONATO Please it your grace lead on? DON PEDRO Your hand, Leonato; we will go together. Exeunt all except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO CLAUDIO Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato? BENEDICK I noted her not; but I looked on her. CLAUDIO Is she not a modest young lady? BENEDICK Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex? CLAUDIO No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment. BENEDICK Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. CLAUDIO Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her. BENEDICK Would you buy her, that you inquire after her? CLAUDIO Can the world buy such a jewel? BENEDICK Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song? CLAUDIO In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on. BENEDICK I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you? CLAUDIO I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. BENEDICK Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again? Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you. Re-enter DON PEDRO DON PEDRO What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's? BENEDICK I would your grace would constrain me to tell. DON PEDRO I charge thee on thy allegiance. BENEDICK You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man; I would have you think so; but, on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is in love. With who? now that is your grace's part. Mark how short his answer is;--With Hero, Leonato's short daughter. CLAUDIO If this were so, so were it uttered. BENEDICK Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor 'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be so.' CLAUDIO If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise. DON PEDRO Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy. CLAUDIO You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. DON PEDRO By my troth, I speak my thought. CLAUDIO And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine. BENEDICK And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine. CLAUDIO That I love her, I feel. DON PEDRO That she is worthy, I know. BENEDICK That I neither feel how she should be loved nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake. DON PEDRO Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty. CLAUDIO And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will. BENEDICK That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor. DON PEDRO I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love. BENEDICK With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of blind Cupid. DON PEDRO Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. BENEDICK If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder, and called Adam. DON PEDRO Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.' BENEDICK The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write 'Here is good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.' CLAUDIO If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad. DON PEDRO Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. BENEDICK I look for an earthquake too, then. DON PEDRO Well, you temporize with the hours. In the meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made great preparation. BENEDICK I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit you-- CLAUDIO To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,-- DON PEDRO The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. BENEDICK Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience: and so I leave you. Exit CLAUDIO My liege, your highness now may do me good. DON PEDRO My love is thine to teach: teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn Any hard lesson that may do thee good. CLAUDIO Hath Leonato any son, my lord? DON PEDRO No child but Hero; she's his only heir. Dost thou affect her, Claudio? CLAUDIO O, my lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye, That liked, but had a rougher task in hand Than to drive liking to the name of love: But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts Have left their places vacant, in their rooms Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting me how fair young Hero is, Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars. DON PEDRO Thou wilt be like a lover presently And tire the hearer with a book of words. If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, And I will break with her and with her father, And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end That thou began'st to twist so fine a story? CLAUDIO How sweetly you do minister to love, That know love's grief by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would have salved it with a longer treatise. DON PEDRO What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity. Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest, And I will fit thee with the remedy. I know we shall have revelling to-night: I will assume thy part in some disguise And tell fair Hero I am Claudio, And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong encounter of my amorous tale: Then after to her father will I break; And the conclusion is, she shall be thine. In practise let us put it presently. Exeunt SCENE II. A room in LEONATO's house. Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting LEONATO How now, brother! Where is my cousin, your son? hath he provided this music? ANTONIO He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamt not of. LEONATO Are they good? ANTONIO As the event stamps them: but they have a good cover; they show well outward. The prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in mine orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance: and if he found her accordant, he meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you of it. LEONATO Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? ANTONIO A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and question him yourself. LEONATO No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear itself: but I will acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell her of it. Enter Attendants Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will use your skill. Good cousin, have a care this busy time. Exeunt SCENE III. The same. Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE CONRADE What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad? DON JOHN There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore the sadness is without limit. CONRADE You should hear reason. DON JOHN And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it? CONRADE If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance. DON JOHN I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayest thou art, born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humour. CONRADE Yea, but you must not make the full show of this till you may do it without controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest. DON JOHN I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and seek not to alter me. CONRADE Can you make no use of your discontent? DON JOHN I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? Enter BORACHIO What news, Borachio? BORACHIO I came yonder from a great supper: the prince your brother is royally entertained by Leonato: and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. DON JOHN Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness? BORACHIO Marry, it is your brother's right hand. DON JOHN Who? the most exquisite Claudio? BORACHIO Even he. DON JOHN A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? BORACHIO Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. DON JOHN A very forward March-chick! How came you to this? BORACHIO Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt me behind the arras; and there heard it agreed upon that the prince should woo Hero for himself, and having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio. DON JOHN Come, come, let us thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me? CONRADE To the death, my lord. DON JOHN Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done? BORACHIO We'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt ACT II SCENE I. A hall in LEONATO'S house. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others LEONATO Was not Count John here at supper? ANTONIO I saw him not. BEATRICE How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after. HERO He is of a very melancholy disposition. BEATRICE He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image and says nothing, and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling. LEONATO Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,-- BEATRICE With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if a' could get her good-will. LEONATO By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. ANTONIO In faith, she's too curst. BEATRICE Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none. LEONATO So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns. BEATRICE Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen. LEONATO You may light on a husband that hath no beard. BEATRICE What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward, and lead his apes into hell. LEONATO Well, then, go you into hell? BEATRICE No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. ANTONIO [To HERO] Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father. BEATRICE Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me.' LEONATO Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. BEATRICE Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. LEONATO Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. BEATRICE The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave. LEONATO Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. BEATRICE I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight. LEONATO The revellers are entering, brother: make good room. All put on their masks Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR, DON JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA and others, masked DON PEDRO Lady, will you walk about with your friend? HERO So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away. DON PEDRO With me in your company? HERO I may say so, when I please. DON PEDRO And when please you to say so? HERO When I like your favour; for God defend the lute should be like the case! DON PEDRO My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. HERO Why, then, your visor should be thatched. DON PEDRO Speak low, if you speak love. Drawing her aside BALTHASAR Well, I would you did like me. MARGARET So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill-qualities. BALTHASAR Which is one? MARGARET I say my prayers aloud. BALTHASAR I love you the better: the hearers may cry, Amen. MARGARET God match me with a good dancer! BALTHASAR Amen. MARGARET And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done! Answer, clerk. BALTHASAR No more words: the clerk is answered. URSULA I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio. ANTONIO At a word, I am not. URSULA I know you by the waggling of your head. ANTONIO To tell you true, I counterfeit him. URSULA You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: you are he, you are he. ANTONIO At a word, I am not. URSULA Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he: graces will appear, and there's an end. BEATRICE Will you not tell me who told you so? BENEDICK No, you shall pardon me. BEATRICE Nor will you not tell me who you are? BENEDICK Not now. BEATRICE That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the 'Hundred Merry Tales:'--well this was Signior Benedick that said so. BENEDICK What's he? BEATRICE I am sure you know him well enough. BENEDICK Not I, believe me. BEATRICE Did he never make you laugh? BENEDICK I pray you, what is he? BEATRICE Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in the fleet: I would he had boarded me. BENEDICK When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. BEATRICE Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure not marked or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. Music We must follow the leaders. BENEDICK In every good thing. BEATRICE Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. Dance. Then exeunt all except DON JOHN, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO DON JOHN Sure my brother is amorous on Hero and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but one visor remains. BORACHIO And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing. DON JOHN Are not you Signior Benedick? CLAUDIO You know me well; I am he. DON JOHN Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her: she is no equal for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it. CLAUDIO How know you he loves her? DON JOHN I heard him swear his affection. BORACHIO So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night. DON JOHN Come, let us to the banquet. Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO CLAUDIO Thus answer I in the name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero! Re-enter BENEDICK BENEDICK Count Claudio? CLAUDIO Yea, the same. BENEDICK Come, will you go with me? CLAUDIO Whither? BENEDICK Even to the next willow, about your own business, county. What fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero. CLAUDIO I wish him joy of her. BENEDICK Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they sell bullocks. But did you think the prince would have served you thus? CLAUDIO I pray you, leave me. BENEDICK Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. CLAUDIO If it will not be, I'll leave you. Exit BENEDICK Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges. But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The prince's fool! Ha? It may be I go under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so I am apt to do myself wrong; I am not so reputed: it is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. Re-enter DON PEDRO DON PEDRO Now, signior, where's the count? did you see him? BENEDICK Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren: I told him, and I think I told him true, that your grace had got the good will of this young lady; and I offered him my company to a willow-tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped. DON PEDRO To be whipped! What's his fault? BENEDICK The flat transgression of a schoolboy, who, being overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. DON PEDRO Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer. BENEDICK Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stolen his birds' nest. DON PEDRO I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner. BENEDICK If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. DON PEDRO The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the gentleman that danced with her told her she is much wronged by you. BENEDICK O, she misused me past the endurance of a block! an oak but with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester, that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror and perturbation follows her. DON PEDRO Look, here she comes. Enter CLAUDIO, BEATRICE, HERO, and LEONATO BENEDICK Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words' conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me? DON PEDRO None, but to desire your good company. BENEDICK O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot endure my Lady Tongue. Exit DON PEDRO Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick. BEATRICE Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it. DON PEDRO You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. BEATRICE So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. DON PEDRO Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad? CLAUDIO Not sad, my lord. DON PEDRO How then? sick? CLAUDIO Neither, my lord. BEATRICE The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion. DON PEDRO I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained: name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy! LEONATO Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and an grace say Amen to it. BEATRICE Speak, count, 'tis your cue. CLAUDIO Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange. BEATRICE Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither. DON PEDRO In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. BEATRICE Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart. CLAUDIO And so she doth, cousin. BEATRICE Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband! DON PEDRO Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. BEATRICE I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. DON PEDRO Will you have me, lady? BEATRICE No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days: your grace is too costly to wear every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I was born to speak all mirth and no matter. DON PEDRO Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy! LEONATO Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? BEATRICE I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon. Exit DON PEDRO By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. LEONATO There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing. DON PEDRO She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. LEONATO O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit. DON PEDRO She were an excellent wife for Benedict. LEONATO O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad. DON PEDRO County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? CLAUDIO To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love have all his rites. LEONATO Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all things answer my mind. DON PEDRO Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing: but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other. I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. LEONATO My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' watchings. CLAUDIO And I, my lord. DON PEDRO And you too, gentle Hero? HERO I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. DON PEDRO And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your two helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer: hi s glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. Exeunt SCENE II. The same. Enter DON JOHN and BORACHIO DON JOHN It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato. BORACHIO Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. DON JOHN Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage? BORACHIO Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. DON JOHN Show me briefly how. BORACHIO I think I told your lordship a year since, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero. DON JOHN I remember. BORACHIO I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber window. DON JOHN What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage? BORACHIO The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the prince your brother; spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio--whose estimation do you mightily hold up--to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero. DON JOHN What proof shall I make of that? BORACHIO Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue? DON JOHN Only to despite them, I will endeavour any thing. BORACHIO Go, then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone: tell them that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as,--in love of your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid,--that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial: offer them instances; which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber-window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio; and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding,--for in the meantime I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent,--and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance and all the preparation overthrown. DON JOHN Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practise. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats. BORACHIO Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me. DON JOHN I will presently go learn their day of marriage. Exeunt SCENE III. LEONATO'S orchard. Enter BENEDICK BENEDICK Boy! Enter Boy Boy Signior? BENEDICK In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither to me in the orchard. Boy I am here already, sir. BENEDICK I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. Exit Boy I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabour and the pipe: I have known when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now is he turned orthography; his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. Withdraws Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO DON PEDRO Come, shall we hear this music? CLAUDIO Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony! DON PEDRO See you where Benedick hath hid himself? CLAUDIO O, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth. Enter BALTHASAR with Music DON PEDRO Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. BALTHASAR O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice To slander music any more than once. DON PEDRO It is the witness still of excellency To put a strange face on his own perfection. I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. BALTHASAR Because you talk of wooing, I will sing; Since many a wooer doth commence his suit To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he swear he loves. DON PEDRO Now, pray thee, come; Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. BALTHASAR Note this before my notes; There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. DON PEDRO Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks; Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing. Air BENEDICK Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all's done. The Song BALTHASAR Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never: Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leafy: Then sigh not so, & c. DON PEDRO By my troth, a good song. BALTHASAR And an ill singer, my lord. DON PEDRO Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. BENEDICK An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hanged him: and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. DON PEDRO Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. BALTHASAR The best I can, my lord. DON PEDRO Do so: farewell. Exit BALTHASAR Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? CLAUDIO O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man. LEONATO No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviors seemed ever to abhor. BENEDICK Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? LEONATO By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it but that she loves him with an enraged affection: it is past the infinite of thought. DON PEDRO May be she doth but counterfeit. CLAUDIO Faith, like enough. LEONATO O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it. DON PEDRO Why, what effects of passion shows she? CLAUDIO Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. LEONATO What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. CLAUDIO She did, indeed. DON PEDRO How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. LEONATO I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially against Benedick. BENEDICK I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence. CLAUDIO He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up. DON PEDRO Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? LEONATO No; and swears she never will: that's her torment. CLAUDIO 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?' LEONATO This says she now when she is beginning to write to him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all. CLAUDIO Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. LEONATO O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet? CLAUDIO That. LEONATO O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her; 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.' CLAUDIO Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O sweet Benedick! God give me patience!' LEONATO She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage to herself: it is very true. DON PEDRO It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. CLAUDIO To what end? He would make but a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse. DON PEDRO An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. CLAUDIO And she is exceeding wise. DON PEDRO In every thing but in loving Benedick. LEONATO O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. DON PEDRO I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would have daffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what a' will say. LEONATO Were it good, think you? CLAUDIO Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she will die, if he love her not, and she will die, ere she make her love known, and she will die, if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. DON PEDRO She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. CLAUDIO He is a very proper man. DON PEDRO He hath indeed a good outward happiness. CLAUDIO Before God! and, in my mind, very wise. DON PEDRO He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit. CLAUDIO And I take him to be valiant. DON PEDRO As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. LEONATO If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace: if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. DON PEDRO And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests he will make. Well I am sorry for your niece. Shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love? CLAUDIO Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with good counsel. LEONATO Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first. DON PEDRO Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter: let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. LEONATO My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. CLAUDIO If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. DON PEDRO Let there be the same net spread for her; and that must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such matter: that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb-show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. Exeunt DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO BENEDICK [Coming forward] This can be no trick: the conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady: it seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day! she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her. Enter BEATRICE BEATRICE Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. BENEDICK Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. BEATRICE I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me: if it had been painful, I would not have come. BENEDICK You take pleasure then in the message? BEATRICE Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signior: fare you well. Exit BENEDICK Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner;' there's a double meaning in that 'I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.' that's as much as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit ACT III SCENE I. LEONATO'S garden. Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA HERO Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the prince and Claudio: Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us; And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter, like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her, To listen our purpose. This is thy office; Bear thee well in it and leave us alone. MARGARET I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. Exit HERO Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down, Our talk must only be of Benedick. When I do name him, let it be thy part To praise him more than ever man did merit: My talk to thee must be how Benedick Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hearsay. Enter BEATRICE, behind Now begin; For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Close by the ground, to hear our conference. URSULA The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait: So angle we for Beatrice; who even now Is couched in the woodbine coverture. Fear you not my part of the dialogue. HERO Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it. Approaching the bower No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful; I know her spirits are as coy and wild As haggerds of the rock. URSULA But are you sure That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? HERO So says the prince and my new-trothed lord. URSULA And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? HERO They did entreat me to acquaint her of it; But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection, And never to let Beatrice know of it. URSULA Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Deserve as full as fortunate a bed As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? HERO O god of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man: But Nature never framed a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice; Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on, and her wit Values itself so highly that to her All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endeared. URSULA Sure, I think so; And therefore certainly it were not good She knew his love, lest she make sport at it. HERO Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced, She would swear the gentleman should be her sister; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique, Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut; If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out And never gives to truth and virtue that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. URSULA Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. HERO No, not to be so odd and from all fashions As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling. URSULA Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say. HERO No; rather I will go to Benedick And counsel him to fight against his passion. And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders To stain my cousin with: one doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking. URSULA O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgment-- Having so swift and excellent a wit As she is prized to have--as to refuse So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick. HERO He is the only man of Italy. Always excepted my dear Claudio. URSULA I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick, For shape, for bearing, argument and valour, Goes foremost in report through Italy. HERO Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. URSULA His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. When are you married, madam? HERO Why, every day, to-morrow. Come, go in: I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow. URSULA She's limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam. HERO If it proves so, then loving goes by haps

Much Ado About Nothing Shakespeare homepage | Much Ado About Nothing | Entire play ACT I SCENE I. Before LEONATO'S house. Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a Messenger LEONATO I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Messenger He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him. LEONATO How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? Messenger But few of any sort, and none of name. LEONATO A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio. Messenger Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how. LEONATO He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it. Messenger I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness. LEONATO Did he break out into tears? Messenger In great measure. LEONATO A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping! BEATRICE I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no? Messenger I know none of that name, lady: there was none such in the army of any sort. LEONATO What is he that you ask for, niece? HERO My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua. Messenger O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was. BEATRICE He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing. LEONATO Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Messenger He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. BEATRICE You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach. Messenger And a good soldier too, lady. BEATRICE And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord? Messenger A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues. BEATRICE It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,--well, we are all mortal. LEONATO You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her: they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them. BEATRICE Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother. Messenger Is't possible? BEATRICE Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block. Messenger I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. BEATRICE No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil? Messenger He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. BEATRICE O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a' be cured. Messenger I will hold friends with you, lady. BEATRICE Do, good friend. LEONATO You will never run mad, niece. BEATRICE No, not till a hot January. Messenger Don Pedro is approached. Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and BALTHASAR DON PEDRO Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. LEONATO Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave. DON PEDRO You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is your daughter. LEONATO Her mother hath many times told me so. BENEDICK Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? LEONATO Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child. DON PEDRO You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an honourable father. BENEDICK If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is. BEATRICE I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you. BENEDICK What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? BEATRICE Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence. BENEDICK Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none. BEATRICE A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me. BENEDICK God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face. BEATRICE Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. BEATRICE A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours. BENEDICK I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done. BEATRICE You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old. DON PEDRO That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at the least a month; and he heartily prays some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart. LEONATO If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. To DON JOHN Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. DON JOHN I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you. LEONATO Please it your grace lead on? DON PEDRO Your hand, Leonato; we will go together. Exeunt all except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO CLAUDIO Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato? BENEDICK I noted her not; but I looked on her. CLAUDIO Is she not a modest young lady? BENEDICK Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex? CLAUDIO No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment. BENEDICK Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. CLAUDIO Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her. BENEDICK Would you buy her, that you inquire after her? CLAUDIO Can the world buy such a jewel? BENEDICK Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song? CLAUDIO In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on. BENEDICK I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you? CLAUDIO I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. BENEDICK Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again? Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you. Re-enter DON PEDRO DON PEDRO What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's? BENEDICK I would your grace would constrain me to tell. DON PEDRO I charge thee on thy allegiance. BENEDICK You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man; I would have you think so; but, on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is in love. With who? now that is your grace's part. Mark how short his answer is;--With Hero, Leonato's short daughter. CLAUDIO If this were so, so were it uttered. BENEDICK Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor 'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be so.' CLAUDIO If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise. DON PEDRO Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy. CLAUDIO You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. DON PEDRO By my troth, I speak my thought. CLAUDIO And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine. BENEDICK And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine. CLAUDIO That I love her, I feel. DON PEDRO That she is worthy, I know. BENEDICK That I neither feel how she should be loved nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake. DON PEDRO Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty. CLAUDIO And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will. BENEDICK That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor. DON PEDRO I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love. BENEDICK With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of blind Cupid. DON PEDRO Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. BENEDICK If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder, and called Adam. DON PEDRO Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.' BENEDICK The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write 'Here is good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.' CLAUDIO If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad. DON PEDRO Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. BENEDICK I look for an earthquake too, then. DON PEDRO Well, you temporize with the hours. In the meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made great preparation. BENEDICK I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit you-- CLAUDIO To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,-- DON PEDRO The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. BENEDICK Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience: and so I leave you. Exit CLAUDIO My liege, your highness now may do me good. DON PEDRO My love is thine to teach: teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn Any hard lesson that may do thee good. CLAUDIO Hath Leonato any son, my lord? DON PEDRO No child but Hero; she's his only heir. Dost thou affect her, Claudio? CLAUDIO O, my lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye, That liked, but had a rougher task in hand Than to drive liking to the name of love: But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts Have left their places vacant, in their rooms Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting me how fair young Hero is, Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars. DON PEDRO Thou wilt be like a lover presently And tire the hearer with a book of words. If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, And I will break with her and with her father, And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end That thou began'st to twist so fine a story? CLAUDIO How sweetly you do minister to love, That know love's grief by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would have salved it with a longer treatise. DON PEDRO What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity. Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest, And I will fit thee with the remedy. I know we shall have revelling to-night: I will assume thy part in some disguise And tell fair Hero I am Claudio, And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong encounter of my amorous tale: Then after to her father will I break; And the conclusion is, she shall be thine. In practise let us put it presently. Exeunt SCENE II. A room in LEONATO's house. Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting LEONATO How now, brother! Where is my cousin, your son? hath he provided this music? ANTONIO He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamt not of. LEONATO Are they good? ANTONIO As the event stamps them: but they have a good cover; they show well outward. The prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in mine orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance: and if he found her accordant, he meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you of it. LEONATO Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? ANTONIO A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and question him yourself. LEONATO No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear itself: but I will acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell her of it. Enter Attendants Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will use your skill. Good cousin, have a care this busy time. Exeunt SCENE III. The same. Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE CONRADE What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad? DON JOHN There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore the sadness is without limit. CONRADE You should hear reason. DON JOHN And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it? CONRADE If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance. DON JOHN I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayest thou art, born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humour. CONRADE Yea, but you must not make the full show of this till you may do it without controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest. DON JOHN I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and seek not to alter me. CONRADE Can you make no use of your discontent? DON JOHN I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? Enter BORACHIO What news, Borachio? BORACHIO I came yonder from a great supper: the prince your brother is royally entertained by Leonato: and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. DON JOHN Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness? BORACHIO Marry, it is your brother's right hand. DON JOHN Who? the most exquisite Claudio? BORACHIO Even he. DON JOHN A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? BORACHIO Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. DON JOHN A very forward March-chick! How came you to this? BORACHIO Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt me behind the arras; and there heard it agreed upon that the prince should woo Hero for himself, and having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio. DON JOHN Come, come, let us thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me? CONRADE To the death, my lord. DON JOHN Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done? BORACHIO We'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt ACT II SCENE I. A hall in LEONATO'S house. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others LEONATO Was not Count John here at supper? ANTONIO I saw him not. BEATRICE How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after. HERO He is of a very melancholy disposition. BEATRICE He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image and says nothing, and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling. LEONATO Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,-- BEATRICE With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if a' could get her good-will. LEONATO By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. ANTONIO In faith, she's too curst. BEATRICE Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none. LEONATO So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns. BEATRICE Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen. LEONATO You may light on a husband that hath no beard. BEATRICE What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward, and lead his apes into hell. LEONATO Well, then, go you into hell? BEATRICE No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. ANTONIO [To HERO] Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father. BEATRICE Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me.' LEONATO Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. BEATRICE Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. LEONATO Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. BEATRICE The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave. LEONATO Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. BEATRICE I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight. LEONATO The revellers are entering, brother: make good room. All put on their masks Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR, DON JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA and others, masked DON PEDRO Lady, will you walk about with your friend? HERO So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away. DON PEDRO With me in your company? HERO I may say so, when I please. DON PEDRO And when please you to say so? HERO When I like your favour; for God defend the lute should be like the case! DON PEDRO My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. HERO Why, then, your visor should be thatched. DON PEDRO Speak low, if you speak love. Drawing her aside BALTHASAR Well, I would you did like me. MARGARET So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill-qualities. BALTHASAR Which is one? MARGARET I say my prayers aloud. BALTHASAR I love you the better: the hearers may cry, Amen. MARGARET God match me with a good dancer! BALTHASAR Amen. MARGARET And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done! Answer, clerk. BALTHASAR No more words: the clerk is answered. URSULA I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio. ANTONIO At a word, I am not. URSULA I know you by the waggling of your head. ANTONIO To tell you true, I counterfeit him. URSULA You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: you are he, you are he. ANTONIO At a word, I am not. URSULA Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he: graces will appear, and there's an end. BEATRICE Will you not tell me who told you so? BENEDICK No, you shall pardon me. BEATRICE Nor will you not tell me who you are? BENEDICK Not now. BEATRICE That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the 'Hundred Merry Tales:'--well this was Signior Benedick that said so. BENEDICK What's he? BEATRICE I am sure you know him well enough. BENEDICK Not I, believe me. BEATRICE Did he never make you laugh? BENEDICK I pray you, what is he? BEATRICE Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in the fleet: I would he had boarded me. BENEDICK When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. BEATRICE Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure not marked or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. Music We must follow the leaders. BENEDICK In every good thing. BEATRICE Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. Dance. Then exeunt all except DON JOHN, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO DON JOHN Sure my brother is amorous on Hero and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but one visor remains. BORACHIO And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing. DON JOHN Are not you Signior Benedick? CLAUDIO You know me well; I am he. DON JOHN Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her: she is no equal for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it. CLAUDIO How know you he loves her? DON JOHN I heard him swear his affection. BORACHIO So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night. DON JOHN Come, let us to the banquet. Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO CLAUDIO Thus answer I in the name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero! Re-enter BENEDICK BENEDICK Count Claudio? CLAUDIO Yea, the same. BENEDICK Come, will you go with me? CLAUDIO Whither? BENEDICK Even to the next willow, about your own business, county. What fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero. CLAUDIO I wish him joy of her. BENEDICK Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they sell bullocks. But did you think the prince would have served you thus? CLAUDIO I pray you, leave me. BENEDICK Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. CLAUDIO If it will not be, I'll leave you. Exit BENEDICK Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges. But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The prince's fool! Ha? It may be I go under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so I am apt to do myself wrong; I am not so reputed: it is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. Re-enter DON PEDRO DON PEDRO Now, signior, where's the count? did you see him? BENEDICK Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren: I told him, and I think I told him true, that your grace had got the good will of this young lady; and I offered him my company to a willow-tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped. DON PEDRO To be whipped! What's his fault? BENEDICK The flat transgression of a schoolboy, who, being overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. DON PEDRO Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer. BENEDICK Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stolen his birds' nest. DON PEDRO I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner. BENEDICK If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. DON PEDRO The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the gentleman that danced with her told her she is much wronged by you. BENEDICK O, she misused me past the endurance of a block! an oak but with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester, that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror and perturbation follows her. DON PEDRO Look, here she comes. Enter CLAUDIO, BEATRICE, HERO, and LEONATO BENEDICK Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words' conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me? DON PEDRO None, but to desire your good company. BENEDICK O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot endure my Lady Tongue. Exit DON PEDRO Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick. BEATRICE Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it. DON PEDRO You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. BEATRICE So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. DON PEDRO Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad? CLAUDIO Not sad, my lord. DON PEDRO How then? sick? CLAUDIO Neither, my lord. BEATRICE The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion. DON PEDRO I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained: name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy! LEONATO Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and an grace say Amen to it. BEATRICE Speak, count, 'tis your cue. CLAUDIO Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange. BEATRICE Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither. DON PEDRO In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. BEATRICE Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart. CLAUDIO And so she doth, cousin. BEATRICE Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband! DON PEDRO Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. BEATRICE I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. DON PEDRO Will you have me, lady? BEATRICE No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days: your grace is too costly to wear every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I was born to speak all mirth and no matter. DON PEDRO Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy! LEONATO Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? BEATRICE I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon. Exit DON PEDRO By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. LEONATO There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing. DON PEDRO She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. LEONATO O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit. DON PEDRO She were an excellent wife for Benedict. LEONATO O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad. DON PEDRO County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? CLAUDIO To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love have all his rites. LEONATO Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all things answer my mind. DON PEDRO Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing: but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other. I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. LEONATO My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' watchings. CLAUDIO And I, my lord. DON PEDRO And you too, gentle Hero? HERO I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. DON PEDRO And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your two helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer: hi s glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. Exeunt SCENE II. The same. Enter DON JOHN and BORACHIO DON JOHN It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato. BORACHIO Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. DON JOHN Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage? BORACHIO Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. DON JOHN Show me briefly how. BORACHIO I think I told your lordship a year since, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero. DON JOHN I remember. BORACHIO I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber window. DON JOHN What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage? BORACHIO The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the prince your brother; spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio--whose estimation do you mightily hold up--to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero. DON JOHN What proof shall I make of that? BORACHIO Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue? DON JOHN Only to despite them, I will endeavour any thing. BORACHIO Go, then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone: tell them that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as,--in love of your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid,--that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial: offer them instances; which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber-window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio; and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding,--for in the meantime I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent,--and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance and all the preparation overthrown. DON JOHN Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practise. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats. BORACHIO Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me. DON JOHN I will presently go learn their day of marriage. Exeunt SCENE III. LEONATO'S orchard. Enter BENEDICK BENEDICK Boy! Enter Boy Boy Signior? BENEDICK In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither to me in the orchard. Boy I am here already, sir. BENEDICK I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. Exit Boy I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabour and the pipe: I have known when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now is he turned orthography; his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. Withdraws Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO DON PEDRO Come, shall we hear this music? CLAUDIO Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony! DON PEDRO See you where Benedick hath hid himself? CLAUDIO O, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth. Enter BALTHASAR with Music DON PEDRO Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. BALTHASAR O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice To slander music any more than once. DON PEDRO It is the witness still of excellency To put a strange face on his own perfection. I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. BALTHASAR Because you talk of wooing, I will sing; Since many a wooer doth commence his suit To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he swear he loves. DON PEDRO Now, pray thee, come; Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. BALTHASAR Note this before my notes; There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. DON PEDRO Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks; Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing. Air BENEDICK Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all's done. The Song BALTHASAR Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never: Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leafy: Then sigh not so, & c. DON PEDRO By my troth, a good song. BALTHASAR And an ill singer, my lord. DON PEDRO Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. BENEDICK An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hanged him: and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. DON PEDRO Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. BALTHASAR The best I can, my lord. DON PEDRO Do so: farewell. Exit BALTHASAR Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? CLAUDIO O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man. LEONATO No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviors seemed ever to abhor. BENEDICK Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? LEONATO By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it but that she loves him with an enraged affection: it is past the infinite of thought. DON PEDRO May be she doth but counterfeit. CLAUDIO Faith, like enough. LEONATO O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it. DON PEDRO Why, what effects of passion shows she? CLAUDIO Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. LEONATO What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. CLAUDIO She did, indeed. DON PEDRO How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. LEONATO I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially against Benedick. BENEDICK I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence. CLAUDIO He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up. DON PEDRO Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? LEONATO No; and swears she never will: that's her torment. CLAUDIO 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?' LEONATO This says she now when she is beginning to write to him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all. CLAUDIO Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. LEONATO O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet? CLAUDIO That. LEONATO O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her; 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.' CLAUDIO Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O sweet Benedick! God give me patience!' LEONATO She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage to herself: it is very true. DON PEDRO It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. CLAUDIO To what end? He would make but a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse. DON PEDRO An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. CLAUDIO And she is exceeding wise. DON PEDRO In every thing but in loving Benedick. LEONATO O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. DON PEDRO I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would have daffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what a' will say. LEONATO Were it good, think you? CLAUDIO Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she will die, if he love her not, and she will die, ere she make her love known, and she will die, if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. DON PEDRO She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. CLAUDIO He is a very proper man. DON PEDRO He hath indeed a good outward happiness. CLAUDIO Before God! and, in my mind, very wise. DON PEDRO He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit. CLAUDIO And I take him to be valiant. DON PEDRO As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. LEONATO If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace: if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. DON PEDRO And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests he will make. Well I am sorry for your niece. Shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love? CLAUDIO Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with good counsel. LEONATO Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first. DON PEDRO Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter: let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. LEONATO My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. CLAUDIO If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. DON PEDRO Let there be the same net spread for her; and that must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such matter: that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb-show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. Exeunt DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO BENEDICK [Coming forward] This can be no trick: the conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady: it seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day! she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her. Enter BEATRICE BEATRICE Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. BENEDICK Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. BEATRICE I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me: if it had been painful, I would not have come. BENEDICK You take pleasure then in the message? BEATRICE Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signior: fare you well. Exit BENEDICK Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner;' there's a double meaning in that 'I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.' that's as much as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit ACT III SCENE I. LEONATO'S garden. Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA HERO Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the prince and Claudio: Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us; And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter, like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her, To listen our purpose. This is thy office; Bear thee well in it and leave us alone. MARGARET I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. Exit HERO Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down, Our talk must only be of Benedick. When I do name him, let it be thy part To praise him more than ever man did merit: My talk to thee must be how Benedick Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hearsay. Enter BEATRICE, behind Now begin; For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Close by the ground, to hear our conference. URSULA The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait: So angle we for Beatrice; who even now Is couched in the woodbine coverture. Fear you not my part of the dialogue. HERO Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it. Approaching the bower No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful; I know her spirits are as coy and wild As haggerds of the rock. URSULA But are you sure That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? HERO So says the prince and my new-trothed lord. URSULA And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? HERO They did entreat me to acquaint her of it; But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection, And never to let Beatrice know of it. URSULA Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Deserve as full as fortunate a bed As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? HERO O god of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man: But Nature never framed a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice; Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on, and her wit Values itself so highly that to her All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endeared. URSULA Sure, I think so; And therefore certainly it were not good She knew his love, lest she make sport at it. HERO Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced, She would swear the gentleman should be her sister; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique, Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut; If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out And never gives to truth and virtue that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. URSULA Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. HERO No, not to be so odd and from all fashions As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling. URSULA Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say. HERO No; rather I will go to Benedick And counsel him to fight against his passion. And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders To stain my cousin with: one doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking. URSULA O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgment-- Having so swift and excellent a wit As she is prized to have--as to refuse So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick. HERO He is the only man of Italy. Always excepted my dear Claudio. URSULA I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick, For shape, for bearing, argument and valour, Goes foremost in report through Italy. HERO Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. URSULA His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. When are you married, madam? HERO Why, every day, to-morrow. Come, go in: I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow. URSULA She's limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam. HERO If it proves so, then loving goes by haps

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