Jump to content

Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/Much adoe about Nothing/Act 1

From Wikisource

Much adoe about Nothing.


Actus primus, Scena prima.


Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.



Leonato.
I learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arragon, comes this night to Messina.

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 action?

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 Peter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess.
Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred 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 expectation, then you must expect of me to tell you how.

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 not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse.

Leo.
Did he breake out into teares?

Mess.
In great measure.

Leo.
A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better 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 none 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 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.

Leon.
'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too much, but hee'l be meete 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 ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an excellent stomacke.

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 all honourable vertues.

Beat.
It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall.

Leon.
You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her: they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them.

Bea.
Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue 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 reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath euery month a new sworne brother.

Mess.
Is't possible?

Beat.
Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with the next block.

Mess.
I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your bookes.

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 Claudio.

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 pound 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.

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 your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost, and you encounter it.

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.

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 childe.

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.

Ben.
If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him as she is.

Beat.
I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Benedicke, no body markes you.

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 her presence.

Bene.
Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine 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.

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.

Bene.
God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde, so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratcht face.

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

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, and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods name, I haue done.

Beat.
You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know you of old.

Pedro.
This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Claudio, and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but praies from his heart.

Leon.
If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be forsworne, let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled to the Prince your brother: I owe you all duetie.

Iohn.
I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I thanke you.

Leon.
Please it your grace leade on?

Pedro.
Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

Clau.

Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato?

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 to 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, 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 her?

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 Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man 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 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 sworne 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 neuer see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith, and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare 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 followed not to Leonatoes?

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 allegiance, 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.

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 well 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 speake mine.

Clau.
That I loue her, I feele.

Pedr.
That she is worthie, I know.

Bened.
That I neither feele how shee should be loued, nor know how shee should be worthie, is the 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 despight of Beautie.

Clau.
And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the force of his will.

Bene.
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 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.

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 penne, and hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe of 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 at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and cal'd Adam.

Pedro.
Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage Bull doth beare the yoake.

Bene.
The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set 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 horne 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 the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation.

Bene.
I haue almost matter enough in me for such an Embassage, 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 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 good.

Pedro.
My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne
Any hard Lesson that may do thee good.

Clau.
Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord?

Pedro.
No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire.
Dost thou affect her Claudio?

Clau.
O my Lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
That 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,
All 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,
And tire the hearer with a booke of words:
If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I will breake with her: wast not to this end,
That thou beganst to twist so fine a story?

Clau.
How sweetly doe you minister to loue,
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise.

Ped.
What need the bridge much broder then the flood?
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:
Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest,
And I will fit thee with the remedie,
I 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
And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine,
In practise let vs put it presently. Exeunt.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

Leo.

How now brother, where is my cosen your son: hath he prouided this musicke?

Old.
He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell you newes that you yet dreamt not of.

Lo.
Are they good?

Old.
As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard, were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the present time by the top, and instantly breake with you of it.

Leo.
Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?

Old.
A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and question him your selfe.

Leo.
No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it appeare it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins, you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill, good cosin haue a care this busie time. Exeunt.

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.


Con.
What the good yeere my Lord, why are you thus out of measure sad?

Ioh.
There is no measure in the occasion that breeds, therefore the sadnesse is without limit.

Con.
You should heare reason.

Iohn.
And when I haue heard it, what blessing bringeth it?

Con.
If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance.

Ioh.
I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art, borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine, to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humor.

Con.
Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this, till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of

late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you should take root, but by the faire weather that you make your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your owne haruest.

Iohn.
I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man) it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog, therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and seeke not to alter me.

Con.
Can you make no vse of your discontent?

Iohn.
I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely. Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

Bor.

I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can giue you intelligence of an intended marriage.

Iohn.
Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to vnquietnesse?

Bor.
Mary it is your brothers right hand.

Iohn.
Who, the most exquisite Claudio?

Bor.
Euen he.

Iohn.
A proper squier, and who, and who, which way lookes he?

Bor.
Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leonato.

Iohn.
A very forward March-chicke, how came you to this:

Bor.
Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras, and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue her to Count Claudio.

Iohn.
Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist mee?

Conr.
To the death my Lord.

Iohn.
Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done?

Bor.
Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.