108 Much ado about Nothing.
879To
slander Mu
sicke any more then once.
880Prince. It is the witne
sse
still of excellencie,
881To put a
strange face on his owne perfe
ction,
882I pray thee
sing, and let me woe no more.
883Balth. Becau
se you talke of wooing, I will
sing,
884Since many a wooer doth commence his
suit,
885To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes,
886Yet will he
sweare he loues.
887Prince. Nay pray thee come,
888Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
890Balth. Note this before my notes,
891Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
892Prince. Why the
se are very crotchets that he
speaks,
893Note notes for
sooth, and nothing.
894Bene. Now diuine aire, now is his
soule raui
sht, is it
895not
strange that
sheepes guts
should hale
soules out of
896mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's
899 Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more,
900Men were deceiuers euer,
901One foote in Sea, and one on shore,
902To one thing constant neuer,
903Then sigh not so, but let them goe,
904And be you blithe and bonnie,
905Conuerting all your sounds of woe,
907Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
908Of dumps so dull and heauy,
909The fraud of men were euer so,
910Since summer first was leauy,
912Prince. By my troth a good
song.
913Balth. And an ill
singer, my Lord.
914Prince. Ha, no, no faith, thou
sing
st well enough for a
916Ben. And he had been a dog that
should haue howld
917thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his
918bad voyce bode no mi
schiefe, I had as liefe haue heard
919the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come af
- 921Prince. Yea marry, do
st thou heare
Balthasar? I pray
922thee get vs
some excellent mu
sick: for to morrow night
923we would haue it at the Lady
Heroes chamber window.
924Balth. The be
st I can, my Lord.
Exit Balthasar. 925Prince. Do
so, farewell. Come hither
Leonato, what
926was it you told me of to day, that your Niece
Beatrice 927was in loue with
signior
Benedicke?
928Cla. O I,
stalke on,
stalke on, the foule
sits. I did ne
- 929uer thinke that Lady would haue loued any man.
930Leon. No, nor I neither, but mo
st wonderful, that
she
931should
so dote on Signior
Benedicke, whom
shee hath in
932all outward behauiours
seemed euer to abhorre.
933Bene. Is't po
ssible?
sits the winde in that corner?
934Leo. By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to
935thinke of it, but that
she loues him with an inraged a
ffe
- 936ction, it is pa
st the in
finite of thought.
937Prince. May be
she doth but counterfeit.
938Claud. Faith like enough.
939Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counter
- 940feit of pa
ssion, came
so neere the life of pa
ssion as
she di
s- 942Prince. Why what e
ffe
cts of pa
ssion
shewes
she?
943Claud. Baite the hooke well, this
fish will bite.
944Leon. What e
ffe
cts my Lord?
shee will
sit you, you
945heard my daughter tell you how.
947Prin. How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would
948haue thought her
spirit had beene inuincible again
st all
949a
ssaults of a
ffe
ction.
950Leo. I would haue
sworne it had, my Lord, e
specially
952Bene. I
should thinke this a gull, but that the white
- 953bearded fellow
speakes it: knauery cannot
sure hide
954him
selfe in
such reuerence.
955Claud. He hath tane th'infe
ction, hold it vp.
956Prince. Hath
shee made her a
ffe
ction known to
Bene- 958Leonato. No, and
sweares
she neuer will, that's her
960Claud. 'Tis true indeed,
so your daughter
saies:
shall
961I,
saies
she, that haue
so oft encountred him with
scorne,
962write to him that I loue him?
963Leo. This
saies
shee now when
shee is beginning to
964write to him, for
shee'll be vp twenty times a night, and
965there will
she
sit in her
smocke, till
she haue writ a
sheet
966of paper: my daughter tells vs all.
967Clau. Now you talke of a
sheet of paper, I remember
968a pretty ie
st your daughter told vs of.
969Leon. O when
she had writ it, & was reading it ouer,
970she found
Benedicke and
Beatrice betweene the
sheete.
972Leon. O
she tore the letter into a thou
sand halfpence,
973raild at her
self, that
she
should be
so immode
st to write,
974to one that
shee knew would
flout her: I mea
sure him,
975saies
she, by my owne
spirit, for I
should
flout him if hee
976writ to mee, yea though I loue him, I
should.
977Clau. Then downe vpon her knees
she falls, weepes,
978sobs, beates her heart, teares her hayre, praies, cur
ses, O
979sweet
Benedicke, God giue me patience.
980Leon. She doth indeed, my daughter
saies
so, and the
981exta
sie hath
so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is
982somtime afeard
she will doe a de
sperate out-rage to her
983selfe, it is very true.
984Princ. It were good that
Benedicke knew of it by
some
985other, if
she will not di
scouer it.
986Clau. To what end? he would but make a
sport of it,
987and torment the poore Lady wor
se.
988Prin. And he
should, it were an almes to hang him,
989shee's an excellent
sweet Lady, and (out of all
su
spition,)
991Claudio. And
she is exceeding wi
se.
992Prince. In euery thing, but in louing
Benedicke.
993Leon. O my Lord, wi
sedome and bloud combating in
994so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that bloud
995hath the vi
ctory, I am
sorry for her, as I haue iu
st cau
se,
996being her Vncle, and her Guardian.
997Prince. I would
shee had be
stowed this dotage on
998mee, I would haue daft all other re
spe
cts, and made her
999halfe my
selfe: I pray you tell
Benedicke of it, and heare
1001Leon. Were it good thinke you?
1002Clau. Hero thinkes
surely
she wil die, for
she
saies
she
1003will die, if hee loue her not, and
shee will die ere
shee
1004make her loue knowne, and
she will die if hee wooe her,
1005rather than
shee will bate one breath of her accu
stomed
1007Prin. She doth well, if
she
should make tender of her
loue,