Much Ado About Nothing - Beatrice Lines

LEONATO

... 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.

I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the wars or no?

LEONATO

O, he's return'd, and as pleasant as ever he was.

I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he kill'd? 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.

He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

You had musty victual, and he hath help to eat it. He is a very valiant trencherman, he hath an excellent stomach.

LEONATO

And a good soldier too, lady.

And a good soldier to a lady, but what is he to a lord?

LEONATO

A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuff'd with all honorable virtues.

It is so indeed, he is no less than a stuff'd man. But for the stuffing—well, we are all mortal.

HERO

You must not, sir, mistake my cousin. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her; they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them.

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.

LEONATO

Is't possible?

Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat: it ever changes with the next block.

LEONATO

I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.

No, and 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?

LEONATO

He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

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 cur'd.

LEONATA

You will never run mad, niece.

No, not till a hot January.

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.

I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick, nobody marks you.

BENEDICK

What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?

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 lov'd 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.

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 humor 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 scratch'd face.

Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere such a face as yours were.

BENEDICK

Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

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 a' God's name, I have done.

You always end with a jade's trick, I know you of old.

HERO

I saw him not.

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.

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,--

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.

HERO

In faith, she's too curst.

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.

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.

LEONATO

You may light on a husband that hath no beard.

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?

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.

LEONATO

[To HERO] Well, daughter, I trust you will be ruled

by your father.

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.

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.

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.

LEONATA

Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.

I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.

CONRADE

No more words: the clerk is answered.

Will you not tell me who told you so?

BENEDICK

No, you shall pardon me.

Nor will you not tell me who you are?

BENEDICK

Not now.

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?

I am sure you know him well enough.

BENEDICK

Not I, believe me.

Did he never make you laugh?

BENEDICK

I pray you, what is he?

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.

Do, do, he'll but break a comparison or two on me, which peradventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy.

Music

We must follow the leaders.

BENEDICK

In every good thing.

Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning.

DON PEDRO

Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick.

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.

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.

CLAUDIO

Neither, my lord.

The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor

well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and

something of that jealous complexion.

LEONATA

Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His Grace hath made the match, and all grace say amen to it.

Speak, Count, 'tis your cue.

CLAUDIO

Silence is the perfectest heralt 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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

No, sure, my lord, my mother cried, but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.

LEONATO

Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?

I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon.

BENEDICK

... Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.

Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.

BENEDICK

Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

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?

Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signor, fare you well.

HERO

If it proves so, then loving goes by haps:

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?

Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?

Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!

No glory lives behind the back of such.

And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,

Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:

If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee

To bind our loves up in a holy band;

For others say thou dost deserve, and I

Believe it better than reportingly.

HERO

Good morrow, coz.

Good morrow, sweet Hero.

HERO

Why, how now? Do you speak in the sick tune?

I am out of all other tune, methinks.

MARGARET

Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a

burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.

Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your

husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall

lack no barns.

MARGARET

O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; tis time you were

ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!

MARGARET

For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

For the letter that begins them all, H.

MARGARET

Well, there's no more sailing by the star.

What means the fool, trow?

HERO

These gloves the Count sent me, they are an excellent perfume.

I am stuff'd, cousin, I cannot smell.

MARGARET

A maid, and stuff'd! There's goodly catching of cold.

O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profess'd apprehension?

MARGARET

Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?

It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am sick.

HERO

There thou prick'st her with a thistle.

Benedictus! Why Benedictus? You have some moral in this Benedictus.

MARGARET

... He swore he would never marry, and yet now in despite of his heart he eats his meat without grudging; and how you may be converted I know not, but methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.

What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?

LEONATA

Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?

Hero swoons.

Why, how now, cousin, wherefore sink you down?

BENEDICK

How doth the lady?

Dead, I think. Help, uncle! Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar!

LEONATO

O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand.

Death is the fairest cover for her shame

That may be wish'd for.

How now, cousin Hero!?

BENEDICK

Sir, sir, be patient.

For my part, I am so attired in wonder,

I know not what to say.

O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!

BENEDICK

Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?

No, truly, not, although until last night, I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.

BENEDICK

Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

BENEDICK

I will not desire that.

You have no reason, I do it freely.

BENEDICK

Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!

BENEDICK

Is there any way to show such friendship?

A very even way, but no such friend.

BENEDICK

May a man do it?

It is a man's office, but not yours.

BENEDICK

I do love nothing in the world so well as you—is not that strange?

As strange as the thing I know not. It were as

possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as

you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I

confess nothing, nor I deny nothing.

I am sorry for my cousin.

BENEDICK

By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

Do not swear and eat it.

BENEDICK

I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.

Will you not eat your word?

BENEDICK

With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.

Why then God forgive me!

BENEDICK

What offense, sweet Beatrice?

You have stayed me in a happy hour, I was about to protest I loved you.

BENEDICK

And do it with all thy heart.

I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

BENEDICK

Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

Kill Claudio.

BENEDICK

Not for the wide world.

You kill me to deny it. Farewell.

BENEDICK

Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

I am gone, though I am here; there is no love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go.

BENEDICK

Beatrice—

In faith, I will go.

BENEDICK

We'll be friends first.

You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.

BENEDICK

Is Claudio thine enemy?

Is he not approved in the height a villain, that

hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O

that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they

come to take hands; and then, with public

accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,

--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart

in the market-place.

BENEDICK

Hear me, Beatrice—

Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!

BENEDICK

Nay, but, Beatrice—

Sweet Hero, she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.

BENEDICK

Beat—

Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony,

a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant,

surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I

had any friend would be a man for my sake! But

manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into

compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and

trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules

that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a

man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

BENEDICK

Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.

Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

BENEDICK

Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero?

Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.

... No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter Beatrice.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I call'd thee?

Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.

BENEDICK

O, stay but till then!

"Then" is spoken. Fare you well now. And yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came, which is, with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.

BENEDICK

Only foul words—and thereupon I will kiss thee.

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but

foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I

will depart unkissed.

BENEDICK

Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense,

so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee

plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either

I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe

him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me for

which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

For them all together; which maintained so politic

a state of evil that they will not admit any good

part to intermingle with them. But for which of my

good parts did you first suffer love for me?

BENEDICK

Suffer love! A good epithite! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.

In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart!

If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for

yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

BENEDICK

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

It appears not in this confession: there's not one

wise man among twenty that will praise himself.

BENEDICK

An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in

the lime of good neighbours. If a man do not erect

in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live

no longer in monument than the bell rings and the

widow weeps.

And how long is that, think you?

BENEDICK

... And now tell me, how doth your cousin?

Very ill.

BENEDICK

And how do you?

Very ill too.

MARGARET

Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's old

coil at home: it is proved my Lady Hero hath been

falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily

abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is

fed and gone. Will you come presently?

Will you go hear this news, signior?

BENEDICK

Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?

I answer to that name. What is your will?

BENEDICK

Do not you love me?

Why, no, no more than reason.