Much Ado About Nothing (Folio 1, 1623)Not Peer Reviewed Search TextAdvanced SearchThe requested view type ("stats") is not available for this work. Showing scene view instead. 1Actus primus, Scena prima.
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Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, He ¶
ro his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger. ¶
Leonato. ¶ Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not ¶three Leagues off when I left him. ¶ Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this 10action? ¶
Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. ¶ Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer ¶
brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Pe ¶
ter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, cal 15led Claudio. ¶ Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remem ¶
bred by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the ¶
promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the ¶
feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expecta ¶ Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very ¶much glad of it. ¶ Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there ¶
appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could 25
not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bit ¶ternesse. ¶
Leo. Did he breake out into teares? ¶
Mess. In great measure. ¶ Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no fa 30
ces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much bet ¶ter is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping? ¶ Bea. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from ¶the warres, or no? ¶ Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was 35none such in the armie of any sort. ¶
Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece? ¶
Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua ¶
Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was. ¶ Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd 40
Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the ¶
Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at ¶
the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and ¶
eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for ¶indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing. 45 Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too ¶much, but hee'l be meet with you, I doubt it not. ¶
Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars. ¶
Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to ¶
Mess. And a good souldier too Lady. ¶ Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he ¶to a Lord? ¶ Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with 55all honourable vertues. ¶ Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: ¶ Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is ¶
a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her: 60
they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between ¶them. ¶ Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last con ¶
flict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is ¶
the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue 65
wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it ¶
for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it ¶
is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reaso ¶
nable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath ¶euery month a new sworne brother. 70
Mess. Is't possible? ¶ Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as ¶ the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block. ¶ Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your ¶bookes. 75 Bea. No, and he were, I would burne 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 ¶diuell? ¶ Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble 80Claudio. ¶ Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease: ¶
he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker ¶
runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee ¶
haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand 85pound ere he be cur'd. ¶
Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady. ¶
Bea. Do good friend. ¶
Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece. ¶
Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary. 90
Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd. ¶ Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, ¶and Iohn the bastard. ¶
Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet ¶ Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes ¶
of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should ¶
remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, ¶and happinesse takes his leaue. 100 Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I ¶thinke this is your daughter. ¶
Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so. ¶
Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her? ¶ Leonato. Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a 105childe. ¶ Pedro. You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by ¶
this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers ¶
her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable ¶father. 110
Ben. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not ¶ Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior ¶Benedicke, no body markes you. 115 Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet ¶liuing? ¶ Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee ¶
hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke? ¶
Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in 120her presence. ¶ Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is cer ¶
taine I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and ¶
I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard ¶heart, for truely I loue none. 125 Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else ¶
haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke ¶
God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I ¶
had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man ¶sweare he loues me. 130
Bene. God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde, ¶ Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere ¶such a face as yours were. 135
Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher. ¶ Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of ¶your. ¶
Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, ¶ Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know ¶you of old. ¶ Pedro. This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Clau ¶
dio, and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath 145
inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least ¶
a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may de ¶
taine vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but ¶praies from his heart. ¶ Leon. If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be for 150
sworne, let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being re ¶
conciled to the Prince your brother: I owe you all ¶duetie. ¶ Iohn. I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I ¶thanke you. 155
Leon. Please it your grace leade on? ¶
Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will goe together. ¶ Clau. Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of sig ¶nior Leonato? 160
Bene. I noted her not, but I lookt on her. ¶
Claud. Is she not a modest yong Ladie? ¶ Bene. Doe you question me as an honest man should ¶
doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue ¶
me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant 165to their sexe? ¶
Clau. No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement. ¶ Bene. Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie ¶
praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a ¶
great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her, 170
that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome, ¶and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her. ¶ Clau. Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me ¶truely how thou lik'st her. ¶ Bene. Would you buie her, that you enquier after 175her? ¶
Clau. Can the world buie such a iewell? ¶ Ben. Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this ¶
with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to ¶
tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare 180
Carpenter: Come, in what key shall aman take you to ¶goe in the song? ¶ Clau. In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer ¶I lookt on. ¶ Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no 185
such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest ¶
with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first ¶
of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue ¶no intent to turne husband, haue you? ¶ Clau. I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had 190sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife. ¶ Bene. Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one ¶
man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I ne ¶
uer see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith, ¶
and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare 195
the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro ¶is returned to seeke you. ¶
Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard. ¶ Pedr. What secret hath held you here, that you fol ¶lowed not to Leonatoes? 200 Bened. I would your Grace would constraine mee to ¶tell. ¶
Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegeance. ¶ Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a ¶
dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my al 205
legiance, marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in ¶
loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke ¶
how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short ¶daughter. ¶
Clau. If this were so, so were it vttred. 210 Bened. Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas ¶not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so. ¶ Clau. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it ¶should be otherwise. ¶ Pedro. Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie 215well worthie. ¶
Clau. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord. ¶
Pedr. By my troth I speake my thought. ¶
Clau. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine. ¶ Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I 220speake mine. ¶
Clau. That I loue her, I feele. ¶
Pedr. That she is worthie, I know. ¶ Bened. That I neither feele how shee should be lo ¶
ued, nor know how shee should be worthie, is the 225
opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at ¶the stake. ¶ Pedr. Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the de ¶spight of Beautie. ¶ Clau. And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the 230force of his will. ¶ Ben. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that ¶
she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble ¶
thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my ¶
forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all 235
women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the ¶
wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to ¶
trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the ¶finer) I will liue a Batchellor. ¶
Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue. 240 Bene. With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger, ¶
my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more ¶
blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking, ¶ picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers pe
nne, and
¶
hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe 245of blinde Cupid. ¶ Pedro. Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith, ¶thou wilt proue a notable argument. ¶
Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot ¶ Pedro. Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage ¶Bull doth beare tne yoake. ¶ Bene. The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible ¶
Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set 255
them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and ¶
in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse ¶
to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may ¶see Benedicke the married man. ¶ Clau. If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee 260horne mad. ¶ Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in ¶Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. ¶
Bene. I looke for an earthquake too then. ¶ Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the houres, in 265
the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leo ¶
natoes, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile ¶
him at supper, for indeede he hath made great prepara ¶tion. ¶ Bene. I haue almost matter enough in me for such an 270Embassage, and so I commit you. ¶ Clau. To the tuition of God. From my house, if I ¶had it. ¶
Pedro. The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick. ¶ Bene. Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your 275
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the ¶
guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout ¶
old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I ¶leaue you. Exit. ¶ Clau. My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee 280good. ¶
Pedro. My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how, ¶
Clau. Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord? 285 Pedro. No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire. ¶ Clau. O my Lord, ¶When you went onward on this ended action,
¶I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
290That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand,
¶Than to driue liking to the name of loue:
¶But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts
¶Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes,
¶Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
295All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
¶Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres. ¶
Pedro. Thou wilt be like a louer presently, ¶ Clau. How sweetly doe you minister to loue, ¶That know loues griefe by his complexion!
¶But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
305I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise. ¶ Ped. What need y bridge much broder then the flood? ¶And I will fit thee with the remedie,
310I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
¶I will assume thy part in some disguise,
¶And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
¶And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart,
¶And take her hearing prisoner with the force
315And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
¶Then after, to her father will I breake,
¶In practise let vs put it presently. Exeunt. |






