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  • Title: Much Ado About Nothing (Quarto 1, 1600)
  • Editor: Gretchen Minton
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-516-2

    Copyright Gretchen Minton. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Gretchen Minton
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Much Ado About Nothing (Quarto 1, 1600)

    about Nothing.
    sweeete Lady, and her death shall fall heauie on you, let me
    heare from you.
    Claud. Well I wil meet you, so I may haue good cheare.
    Prince What, a feast, a feast?
    Claud. I faith I thanke him he hath bid me to a calues head
    & a capon, the which if I doe not carue most curiously, say my
    kniffe's naught, shall I not find a woodcocke too?
    Bened. Sir your wit ambles well, it goes easily.
    Prince Ile tell thee how Beatrice praisd thy witte the other
    day: I said thou hadst a fine witte, true said she, a fine little one:
    no said I, a great wit: right saies she, a great grosse one: nay said
    2250I, a good wit, iust said she, it hurts no body: nay said I, the gen-
    tleman is wise: certaine said she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he
    hath the tongues: that I beleeue said shee, for he swore a thing
    to mee on munday night, which hee forswore on tuesday mor-
    ning, theres a double tongue theirs two tongues, thus did shee
    an houre together trans-shape thy particular vertues, yet at last
    she cõcluded with a sigh, thou wast the properst man in Italy.
    Claud. For the which shee wept heartily and saide she ca-
    2260red not.
    Prince Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if she did
    not hate him deadly, she would loue him dearely, the old mans
    daughter told vs all.
    Claud. All all, and moreouer, God sawe him when he was
    2265hid in the garden.
    Prince But when shall we set the sauage bulles hornes one
    the sensible Benedicks head?
    Clau. Yea and text vnder-neath, here dwells Benedick the
    married man.
    2270Bened. Fare you wel, boy, you know my minde, I wil leaue
    you now to your gossep-like humor, you breake iests as brag-
    gards do their blades, which God be thanked hurt not: my
    Lord, for your many courtisies I thanke you, I must disconti-
    nue your company, your brother the bastard is fled from Messina:
    2275you haue among you, kild a sweet and innocent lady: for
    my Lord Lacke-beard, there hee and I shal meet, and till then
    peace be with him.