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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    2085Nor let no comforter delight mine eare,
    But such a one whose wrongs doe sute with mine.
    Bring me a father that so lou'd his child,
    Whose ioy of her is ouer-whelmd like mine,
    And bid him speake of patience,
    2090Measure his woe the length and bredth of mine,
    And let it answer euery straine for straine,
    As thus for thus, and such a griefe for such,
    In euery lineament, branch, shape, and forme:
    If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
    2095And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone,
    Patch griefe with prouerbes, make misfortune drunke,
    With candle-wasters: bring him yet to me,
    And I of him will gather patience:
    But there is no such man, for brother, men
    2100Can counsaile, and speake comfort to that griefe,
    Which they themselues not feele, but tasting it,
    Their counsaile turnes to passion, which before,
    Would giue preceptiall medcine to rage,
    Fetter strong madnesse in a silken thred,
    2105Charme ach with ayre, and agony with words,
    No, no, tis all mens office, to speake patience
    To those that wring vnder the loade of sorrow
    But no mans vertue nor sufficiencie
    To be so morall, when he shall endure
    2110The like himselfe: therefore giue me no counsaile,
    My griefes crie lowder then aduertisement.
    Brother Therein do men from children nothing differ.
    Leonato I pray thee peace, I wil be flesh and bloud,
    For there was neuer yet Philosopher,
    2115That could endure the tooth-ake patiently,
    How euer they haue writ the stile of gods,
    And made a push at chance and sufferance.
    Brother Yet bend not all the harme vpon your selfe,
    Make those that do offend you, suffer too.
    2120Leonato There thou speakst reason, nay I will do so,
    My soule doth tell me, Hero is belied,
    H And