Much adoe

Leo. A kind ouerflow of kindneſſe, there are no faces truer
then thofe that are ſo waſht, how much better is it to weepe at
ioy, then to ioy at weeping?

Beatr. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returnd from the
warres or no?

Meffen. I know none of that name, ladie, there was none
ſuch in the army of any fort.

Leonato What is he that you aske for neece?

Hero My cofen meanes Signior Benedicke of Padua.

Meff. O hee's returnd, and as pleafant as euer he was.

Bea. He ſet vp his bills here in Meſſina, and challenge
Cupid at the Flight, and my vncles foole reading the challenge
ſubſcribde for Cupid, and challenge de him at the Burbolt: I
pray you, how many hath he kild and eaten in theſe warres?
but how many hath he kild? for indeede I promiſed to eate all
of his killing.

Leo. Faith neece you taxe Signior Benedicke too much,
but heele be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Meff. He hath done good ſervice lady in theſe warres.

Beat. You had muſt vittaile, and he hath holpe to eate it,
he is a very valiaunt trencher man, he hath an excellent ſto-
macke.

Meff. And a good ſouldier too, lady.

Beat. And a good ſouldiour to a Lady, but what is he to a
Lord?

Meff. A lord to a lord, a man to a man, ſtufft with al hono-
table vertues.

Beat. It is ſo indeed, he is no leſſe then a ſtufft man, but for
the ſtuffing wel, we are al mortall.

Leo. You muſt not, fir, miſtake my neece; there is a kind
of men warre betwixt Signior Benedicke and her; they neuer
meet but there's a skirmish of wit betwene them.

Beat. Als he gets nothing by that, in our laſt conflict, 4 of his
ſue wits went halting off, and now is the whole man gouernd
with one, ſo that if he haue wit enough to keepe himself ſwarne,
let him beare it for a difference between himſelf and his horſe,
for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reaſona-
ble

about Nothing.

ble creature, who is his companion now: he hath euery month
a new ſworne brother.

Meff. Iſt poſſible?

Beat. Very easily poſſible, he weares his faith but as the fa-
ſhion of his hat, it euer changes with the next blocke.

Meff. I fee lady the gentleman is not in your bookeſ.

Beat. No, and he were, I would burne my ſtudy, but I pray
you who is his companion? is there no yong ſquarer now that
will make a voyage with him to the diuell?

Meff. He is moſt in the companie of the right noble Clau-
dio.

Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a diſeafe, hee is
ſooner caught than the peflience, and the taker runs preſent-
ly madde. God help the noble Claudio, if he haue caught the
Benedict, it will coſt him a thousand pound ere a be cured.

Meff. I will holde friends with you Ladie.

Beat. Do good friend.

Leon. You will neuer runne madde niece.

Beat. No, not till a hote January.

Meff. Don Pedro is approacht.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Bathasar
and John the bastard.

Pedro: Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet your
trouble: the faſhion of the world is, to auoyd coſt, and you im-
counter it.

Leon. Neuer came trouble to my houſe, in the likeneſſe of
your grace, for trouble being gone, comfort should remaine:
but when you depart from me, ſorrow abides, and happines
takes his leave.

Pedro: You embrace your charge too willingly : I thincke
this is your daughter.

Leonato Her mother bath many times tolde me so.

Bened. Were you in doubt fir that you askt her?

Leonato: Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a child.

Pedro You haue it full Benedicke, wee may gheſſe by this,
what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers her ſelfe:

A 3

be

Much advice

be happy Lady, for you are like an honourable father.

Be. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not haue his head on her shoulders for all Melfina as like him as she is.

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

Bene. What my deere lady Difdaine! are you yet liuing?

Beat. Is it possible Difdaine should die, while she hath luch meetse foode to feede it, as signior Benedicke? Curtesie it selfe must convert to Difdaine, if you come in her prefence.

Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine I am loued of all Ladies, onelie you excepted: and I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I loue none.

Beat. A deere happineſſe to women, they would eſſe haue beene troubled with a pernicious 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 Ladship ſtill in that mind, 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. We'll, you are a rare parrat teacher.

Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beaſt of yours.

Ben. I would my horſe had the ſpeed of your tongue, and so good a continuer, but keep your way a Gods name, I haue done.

Beat. You always end with a iades tricke, I knowe you of olde.

Pedro. That 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 prales ſome occasion may detaine vs longer, I dare ſweare he is no hypocrite, but prales from his heart.

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

John. I thanke you, I am not of many wordes, but I thanke you.

about Nothing.

Leon. Please it your grace leade on?

Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will go together.

Exeunt. Manent Benedicke & Claudio.

Claudio. Benedicke, didſt thou note the daughter of Signior

Bene. I noted her not, but I lookte on her, (Leonato?

Claudio. Is she not a modeſt yong ladie?

Bene. Do you question me as an honest man should doe, for my ſimple true judgement ? or would you haue me ſpeake after my cuſtome, as being a profiled tyrant to their sex?

Claudio. No, I pray thee ſpeake in ſober judgement.

Bene. Why yfaith me thinks ſhees too low for a hie praisc, too browne for a faire praisc, and too little for a great praisc, onelie this commendation I can affoord her, that were ſhe other then ſhe is, ſhe were vnhanſome, and being no other, but as ſhe is, I do not like her.

Claudio. Thou thinkeſt I am in ſport, I pray thee tell mee truelie how thou lik'st her.

Bene. Would you buie her that you enquier after her?

Claudio. Can the world buie ſuch a iewel?

Bene. Yea, and a cafe to putte it into, but ſpeake you this with a ſad brow? or doe you play the flowting jacke, to tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare Carpenter: Come, in what key ſhall a man take you to go in the ſong?

Claudio. In mine eie, ſhe is the ſweeteſt Ladie that euer I lookt on.

Bened. I can fee yet without ſpectacles, and I fee no ſuch matter: thereſe her cosin, and ſhe were not poſſeſt with a fury, exceeds her as much in beautie, as the firſt of Maie dooth the laſt of December: but I hope you haue no intent to turne hufband, haue you?

Claudio. I would ſcarce truſt my ſelfe, though I had ſworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife.

Bened. If it come to this ? in faith hath not the worlde one man but he will weare his cappe with ſupſition ? ſhall I neuer fee a batcheller of three ſcore againe? go to yfaith, and thou wilt needes truſt thy necke into a yoke, weare the print of it, and ſigh away fundaies: looke, don Pedro is returned to ſeeke you.

Enter

MUCH ADO

Enter don Pedro, John the Bastard.

Pedro What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonatoes?

Bene. I would your Grace would constrain me to tell,

Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance.

Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a dumb man, I woulde haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance, marke you this, on my allegiance) he is in loue, with who? now that is your Graces part: marke how short his answer is, with Hero Leonatoes short daughter.

Claudio. If this were so, so were it vttred.

Bened. Like the olde tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor twas not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so.

Claudio. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise.

Pedro Amen, if you loue her, for the Lady is very well worthy.

Claudio. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord.

Pedro By my troth I speake my thought.

Claudio. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine.

Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lorde, I spoke mine.

Claude. That I loue her, I feele.

Pedro That she is worthy, I know.

Bened. That I neither feele how she should be loued, nor know how she should be worthie, is the opinion that fire can not melt out of me, I will die in it at the stake.

Pedro. Thou waft euer an obstinate heretique in the de-fpight of Beauty.

Claude. And neuer could maintain his part, but in the force of his will.

Bene. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that she brought me vp, I likewise giue her most humble thankes: but that I will have a rechate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuible baldricke, all women shall pardon mee: because I will not doe them the wrong to miftruft any, I will doe my selfe the right to truft none: and the fine is, (for the which

about Nothing.

which I may go the finer,) I will lie a bacheller.

Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue.

Bene. With anger, with ficknenesse, or with hunger, my
Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I looke more blood with
loue then I will get againe with drinking, picke out mine eies
with a Ballad-makers penne, and hang me vp at the doore of a
brothel house for the ligne of blinde Cupid.

Pedro. Well, if euer thou doft fall from this faith, thou wilt
prooue a notable argument.

Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, and fhoote at
me, and he that hits me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and
called Adam.

Pedro. Well, as time shall trié: in time the ſauage bull doth
beare the yoake.

Bene. The ſauage bull may, but if euer the ſenſible Bene-
dicke beare it, plucke off the bulls hornes, and fet them in my
forehead, and let me be vildly painted, and in such great let-
ters as they write, here is good horſe to hyre: let them signi-
fie vnder my ſigne, here you may see Benedicke the married
man.

Claudio. If this should euer happen, thou wouldſt be horn
madde.

Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not ſpent all his quiuer in Vc-
nice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.

Bened. I looke for an earthquake too then.

Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the howres, in the
meane time, good ſignior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes,
commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile him at ſup-
per, for indeede he hath made great preparation.

Bened. I haue almost matter enough in mee for ſuche an
Embaſſage, and so I commit you.

Claude. To the tuition of God: from my house if I had it.

Pedro. The fixt of Iuly: your louing friend Benedicke.

Bened. Nay, mocke not, mocke not, the body of your dif-
courſe is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guardes
are but slightly baſſed on neither, ere you flowt old ends any
further, examine your conscience, and so I leave you.

exit

Claudio

B

Much adoe

Claudio My liege, your Highnesse nowe may doe mee good.

Claudio My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how,
And thou shall see how apt it is to learne
Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

Claud. Hath Leonato any fonne, my lord?

Claudio No childe but Hero, shees his onely heire:
Dooft thou affect her Claudio?

Claudio O my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,

I lookt vpon her with a fouldiers eie,
That likt, but had a rougher taske in hand,
Than to driue liking to the name of loue:

But now I am returnde, and that warre-thoughts,
Hae left their places vacant: in their roomes,
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
Saying I likt her ere I went to warres.

Claudio Thou wilt be like a louer presently,
And tire the hearer with a booke of words,
If thou doft loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I wil breake with hir, and with her father,
And thou shall haue her: wait not to this end,
That thou beganst to twist so fine a storie?

Claud. How sweetly you do minifter to loue,
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
But left my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salude it with a longer treatife.

Claudio What need the bridge much broder then the flood?
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:

Claudio Looke what wil ferue is fit: tis once, thou louest,
And I wil fit thee with the remedie,

I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
I wil affuse thy part in some dilguife,

Claudio And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosome ile vnclasp my heart,

And take her hearing prisoner with the force

And

about Nothing,

And strong encounter of my amorous tale:

Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine,

In practice let vs put it presently.

execut.

Enter Leonato and an old man brother to Leonato

Claudio How now brother, where is my cosen your fonne, hath he prouided this muſique?

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

Claudio Are they good?

Claudio As the cuenſt stampes them but they haue a good co-
uer: they ſhew well outward, the prince and Count Claudio
walking in a thicke pleached alley in mine orchard, were thus
much ouer-heard by a man of mine: the prínc.e diſcouered to
Claudio that he loued my niece your daughter, and meant to
acknowledge it this nig ht in a daunce, and if he found her ac-
cordant, he meant to take the preſent time by the top, and in-
flantly breake with you of it.

Claudio Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?

Claudio A good sharp fellow, I wil ſend for him, and queſtion him your ſelſe.

Claudio No, no, we wil hold it as a dreame til it appeare it ſelf:
but I will acquaint my daughter withall, that ſhe may bee the
better prepared for an anſwer, if peraduenture this be true: go
you and tel hir of it: cooſins, you know what you haue to doe,
O I crye you mercie friend, go you with me and I wil vſe your
ſhall: good cosin haue a care this buſie time.

execut.

Enter fir John the baſtard, and Conrade his companion.

Claudio What the goodyeere my lord, why are you thus out of
measure ſad?

Claudio There is no measure in the occafion that breeds, ther-
fore the adneſſe is without limit.

Claudio You should heare reaſon.

Claudio And when I haue heard it, what bleſſing brings it?

Claudio If not a preſent remedy, at least a patient ſufferance.

Claudio I wonder that thou (being as thou faſt, thou art, borne
under Saturne) goeſt about to apply a morall medicine, to a
morn.

B 2

mor.

Much adoe

mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I am: I must be mad
when I haue caufe, and smile at no mans iefts, eate when I haue
stomack, and wait for no mans leifure: sleep when I am drow-
ſle, and tend on no mans buſineſſe, laugh when I am mery, and
claw no man in his humor.

Con. Yea but you must not make the full ſhow of this till
you may do it without controllment, you haue of late ſtoode
out againſt your brother, and he hath tane you newly into his
grace, where it is impoffible you ſhould take true root, but by
the faire weather that you make your ſelf, it is needful that you
frame the ſeason for your owne harueſt.

John I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose in his
grace, and it better fits my cloud to be difdain'd of all, then to
fashion a cariage to rob loue from any: in this (thogh I cannot
be faid to be a flatering honſt man) it must not be denied but I
am a plain dealing villaine, I am truſted with a muſſel, and en-
fraunchisde with a clogge, therfore I haue decreed, not to ſing
in my cage: if I had my mouth I would bite: if I had my liber-
ty I would do my liking: in the mean time, let me be that I am,
and ſeeke not to alter me.

Con. Can you make no vſe of your discontent?

John I make all vſe of it, for I vſe it only,
Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

Bor. I came yonder from a great ſupper, the prince your
brother is royally entertain'd by Leonato, and I can giue you
intelligence of an intended marriage.

Iohn Wil it ſerue for any model to build mischieſe on? what
is he for a foole that betrothes himſelfe to vnquietneſſe?

Bor. Mary it is your bothers right hand.

Iohn Who, the moſt exquifite Claudio?

Bor. Euen he.

Iohn A proper ſquier, and who, and who, which way looks
he?

Bor. Mary one Hero the daughter and heire of Leonato.

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

Bor.

about Nothing.

Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was finoaking a
muſty roome, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in
hand in ſad conference: I whipt me 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 Counte Clau-
dio.

Iohn Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food to my
displeasure, that yong ſtart-vp hath all the glory of my ouer-
throw: if I can croſſe him any way, I bleſſe my ſelſe euery way,
you are both ſure, and wil affiſt me.

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 a my mind, ſhall we
go proue what's to be done?

Bor. Weele wait vpon your lordship.

exu,

Enter Leonato his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and
Beatrice his neece, and a kinsman.

Leonato Was not counte Iohn here at ſupper?
brother I saw him not.

Beatrice How tartely that gentleman lookes, I neuer can ſee
him but I am heart-burn'd an hower after.

Hero He is of a very melancholy diſpoſition.

Beatrice He were an excellent man that were made iuſt in
the mid-way between him and Benedick, the one is too like an
image and faies nothing, and the other too like my ladies eldeſt
fonne, euermore tailing.

Leonato Then halfe ſignor Benedickes tongue in Counte
Johns mouth, and halfe Counte Iohns melancholy in Signior
Benedickes face.

Beatrice With a good legge and a good foote vnckle, and
money inough in his purſe, ſuch a man would winne any wo-
man in the world if a could get her good will.

Leonato By my troth neece thou wilt neuer get thee a huf-
band, if thou be so ſhrewd of thy tongue.

brother Infaith ſhees too curſt.

Beatrice Too curſt is more then curſt, I ſhall leſſen

Gods

B 3

Much ado

Gods fending that way, for it is faide, God fends a curſt cow
ſhort hornes, but to a cow too curſt, he fends none.

Leonato So, by being too curſt, God will fend you no hornes.

Beatrice Iuſt, if he fend me no husband, for the which bleſſing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen!

Leonato You may light on a husband that hath no beard.

Beatrice What ſhould I do with him, drefſe him in my appearl and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath no beard, is leſſe then a man; and he that is more then a youth, is not for me, and he that is leſſe then a man, I am not for him, therefore I will euen take fixpence in earneſt of the Berrord, and leade his apes into hell.

Leonato Well then, go you into hell.

Beatrice No but to the gate, and there will the diuell meete me like an old cuckold with hornes on his head, and ſay, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen, heeres no place for you maids, ſo deliuer I vp my apes and away to Saint Peter for the heuens, he ſhewes me where the Batchellers ſit, and there lie we as mery as the day is long.

brother Well neece, I truſt you will be rulde by your father.

Beatrice Yes faith, it is my cosſens duetie to make curſie and ſay, father, as it pleafe you: but yet for all that coſin, let him be a handsome fellow, or eſſe make an other curſie, and ſay, father, as it pleafe me.

Leonato Well neece, I hope to fee you one day fitted with a husband.

Beatrice Not til God make men of ſome other metall then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouer-maſterd with a peecce of valiant duſt; to make an account of her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnknclle, ile none: Adams ſonnes are my brethren, and trucly I holde it a ſinne to match in my kindred.

Leonato

about Nothing.

Leonato Daughter, remember what I told you, if the prince do ſolicite you in that kind, you know your anſwer.

Beatrice The fault will be in the muſique coſin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is meaſure in euery thing, and ſo daunce out the anſwer, for here me Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch ijgge, a meaſure, and a cinquepace: the firſt ſuite is hot and haſty like a Scotch ijgge (and ſul as fantastiſcall) the wedding manerly modeſt (as a meaſure) ſull of ſtate and auncmentry, and then comes Repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace after and after, til he ſincke into his graue.

Leonato Coſin you apprehend palling ſhrewdly.

Beatrice I haue a good eie vnknclle, I can fee a church by day-light.

Leonato The reuellers are entring brother, make good roome.

Enter prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar,
or dumb John.

Pedro Lady will you walke about with your friend?

Hero So, you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and ſay nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I walk a-way.

Pedro With me in your company.

Hero I may ſay ſo when I pleafe.

Pedro And when pleafe you to ſay ſo?

Hero When I like your fauour, for God defend the lute ſhould be like the cafe.

Pedro My viſor is Philemons rooſe, within the houſe is Ioue.

Hero Why then your viſor ſhould be thatcht.

Pedro Speake low if you ſpeake loue.

Bene. Well, I would you did like me.

Mar. So would not I for your owne ſake, for I haue many ill qualities.

Bene. Which is one?

Mar. I ſay my praiers alowd,

Bene,

Much ado

Bene. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen,

Marg. God match me with a good dauncer.

Bath. Amen.

Marg. And God keepe him out of my fight when the daunce is done : anſwer Clarke.

Bath. No more words, the Clarke is anſwered.

Urſula I knowe you by the wagling of your head.

Antonio. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

Urſula You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnleſſe you were the very man : heeres his drie hand vp and downe, you are he, you are he.

Antonio. At a word, I am not.

Urſula Come, come, do you thinke I do not know you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it ſelfe? go to, mumme, you are he, graces will appeere, and thereſs an end.

Beat. Will you not tell me who tolde you so?

Bened. No, you shall pardon me.

Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?

Bened. Not now.

Beat. That I was diſdainefull, and that I had my good wit out of the hundred mery tales: wel, this was ſignior Benedick that faid so.

Bened. What's he?

Beat. I am ſure you know him well enough.

Bened. Not I, beleene me.

Beat. Did he neuer make you laugh?

Bened. I pray you what is he?

Beat. Why he is the princes ieafter, a very dul fool, only his gift is, in deuiling impoffible flaunders, none but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villanie, for he both pleafes men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beate him : I am ſure he is in the Fleete, I would he had boorded me.

Bene. When I know the Gentleman, ile tell him what you say.

Beato

about Nothing.

Beat. Do, do, heele but break a comparison on two on me, which peraduſture, (not markt, or not laught at) (trikes him into melancholy, and then thereſs a partrige wing faued, for the foole will eate no ſupper that night: wee muſt follow the leaders.

Bene. In euery good thing.

Beat. Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them at the next turning.

Dance

exeunt

John. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines.

Borachio And that is Claudio, I knowe him by his bearing.

John Are not you ſignior Benedicke?

Claud. You know me well, I am he.

John Signior, you are very neere my brother in his loue, he is enamour'd on Hero, I pray you diffwade him from her, the is no equall for his birth, you may doe the parte of an honest man in it.

Claudio How know you he loues her?

John I heard him ſweare his affection.

Borac. So did I too, and he ſwere hee would marry her to night.

John Come let vs to the banquet.

exeunt: manet Clau.

Claud. Thus anſwer I in name of Benedicke, But heare theſe ill newes with the eares of Claudio:

Tis certaine ſo, the Prince wooes for himſelfe,

Friendſhip is conſtant in all other things,

Sauet in the office and affaires of loue:

Therefore all hearts in loue vſe their owne tongues.

Let euery eie negotiate for it ſelfe,

And truſt no Agent: for Beauty is a witch,

Againſt whose charmes, faith melteth into blood:

This is an accident of hourly proofe,

(dicke)

Which I miſtrusted not: farewel therefore Hero. Enter Benedicke.

Benedicke Count Claudio.

Claudio Yea, the fame.

C

Bene.

Much ado

Bene. Come, will you go with me?

Claudio: Whither?

Bene. Euen to the next willow, about your owne bufines,
county: what fashion will you weare the garland of? about
your necke, like an Vfukers chaine?or vnder your arme, like a
Lieutenants scarffe? you muft weare it one way, for the prince
hath got your Hero.

Claudio: I with him ioy of her.

Bened. Why that's spoken like a honeſt Drouier, so they
ſell bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince would haue ſer-
ued you thus?

Claudio: I pray you leaue me.

Benedicke: Ho now you ſtrike like the blindman, twas the
boy that ſtole your meate, and youle beate the poſt.

Claudio: If it will not be, ile leaue you.

exit

Benedicke: Alas poore hurt foule, now will hee creepe into
fedges: but that my Ladie Beatrice ſhould know me, and not
know mee: the princes foole thah, it may be I goe vnder that
title, becaufe I am merry: yea but so I am apte to doe my ſelſe
wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the bafe (though bitter) diſpo-
fition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her perſon, and so
gives me out: well, ile be reuenged as I may.

Enter the Prince, Hero, Leonato, John and Borachio,
and Conrade.

Pedro: Now ſignior, wheres the Counte, did you fee him?

Benedicke: Troth my lord, I haue played the part of Ladie
Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a War-
ren, I tolde him, and I thinke I tolde him true, that your grace
had got the goodwif of this yoong Lady, and I offred him my
company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as be-
ing forfaken, or to binde him vp a rod, as being worthie to bee
whipt.

Pedro: To be whipt, what's his fault?

Benedicke: The flatte tranſgreſſion of a Schoole-boy, who
being ouer-joyed with finding a birds neſt, ſhewes it his com-
panion, and he ſteales it.

Pedro: Wilt thou make a truſt a tranſgreſſion? the tranſgref-
ſion

about Nothing.

ſions in the ſtealer.

Benedicke: Yet it had not beene amiffes the rodde had beene
made, & the garland too, for the garland he might haue worn
himſelſe, and the rodde he might haue beſtowed on you, who
(as I take it) haue ſtolne his birds neſt.

Pedro: I will but teach them to ſing, and reſtore them to the
owner.

Benedicke: If their ſinging anſwer your ſaying, by my faith
you ſay honefly.

Pedro: The ladie Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the Gen-
tleman that daunſt with her, told her ſhee is much wrongd by
you.

Benedicke: O ſhee miſuſde me paſt the indurance of a blocke:
an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue anſWERed
her: my very viſor beganne to allume life, and ſcold with her:
ſhe tolde me, not thinking I had beene my ſelſe, that I was the
Princes ieſter, that I was duller than a great thawe, huddling
ieſt vpon ieſt, with ſuch imſoſſible conueiance vpon me, that
I ſtoode like a man at a marke, with a whole army ſhooting
at me: ſhe ſpeakes poonyards, and euery word ſtabbes: if her
breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no liu-
ing neere her, ſhee would inſect to the north ſtarre: I would
not marry her, though ſhee were indowed with al that Adam
had left him before he tranſgreſſt, ſhe would haue made Her-
cules haue turnd ſpit, yea, and haue cleft his club to make the
ſire too: come, talke not of her, you ſhall find her the infernal
Ate in good apparell, I would to God ſome ſcholler would
coniure her, for certainly, while ſhe is heere, a man may lue
as quiet in hell, as in a ſanctuarie, and people ſinne vpon pur-
pole, becaufe they would goe thither, so indeede all diſquiet,
horrour, and perturbation followes her.

Enter Claudio and Beatrice.

Pedro: Looke heere ſhe comes.

Benedicke: Will your grace command me any ſeruice to the
worldes end? I will go on the flighteſt arrand now to the An-
typodes that you can deuife to ſend mee on: I will fetch you a
tooth-picker now from the furtheſt inch of Asia: bring you
the

C 2

Much adoe

the length of Prefter Iohns foot: fetch you a haire off the great
Chams beard : doe you any embaflage to the Pigmies, rather
than holde three words conference, with this harpy, you haue
no employment for me ?

Pedro: None, but to desire your good company.

Benedicke: O God, fir, heeres a dith I loue not, I cannot indure my Ladie Tongue. exit.

Pedro: Come Lady, come, you haue loft the heart of Signor Benedicke.

Beatrice: Indeed my Lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gaue him vfe for it, a double heart for his single one, mary once before he wonne it of me, with falle dice, therefore your grace may well say I haue loft it.

Pedro: You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put him downe.

Beatrice: So I would not he should do me, my Lord, left I should prooue the mother of fooles : I haue brought Counte Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke.

Pedro: Why how now Counte, wherefore are you fad?

Claudio: Not fad my Lord.

Pedro: How then? ficke?

Claudio: Neither, my Lord.

Beatrice: The Counte is neither fad, nor ficke, nor merry, nor well: but ciuill Counte, ciuil as an orange, and something of that iealous complexion.

Pedro: Ifaith Lady, I think your blazon to be true, though ile be fworne, if he be so, his conceit is falle: heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue thee ioy.

Leonato: Counte take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace say A-men to it.

Beatrice: Speake Counte, tis your Qu.

Claudio: Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were but little happy if I could fay, how much? Lady, as you are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and doate vpon the exchange. Beatr.

about Nothing.

Beatr. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth with a kiffe, and let not him speake neither.

Pedro: Infaith lady you haue a merry heart.

Beatr.: Yea my lord I thanke it, poore fooler it keepes on the windy fide of Care, my cosin tells him in his eare that he is in her heart

Claudio: And so she doth coofin.

Beatr.: Good Lord for aliance: thus goes euery one to the world but I, and I am fun-burnt, I may fit in a corner and crie, heigh ho for a husband.

Pedro: Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

Beatr.: I would rather haue one of your fathers getting; hath your grace ne're a brother like you? your father got excellent husbands if a maide couldle come by them.

Prince: Will you haue me? lady.

Beatr.: No my lord, vnles I might haue another for working-daies, your grace is too costly to weare euery day: but I beleech your grace pardon me, I was born to speake all mirth, and no matter.

Prince: Your silence most offends me, and to be merry, best becomes you, for out a question, you were borne in a merry hower.

Beatr.: No sure my lord, my mother cried, but then there was a starre daunft, and vnder that was I borne, cosins God giue you ioy.

Leonato: Neece, will you looke to thofe things I tolde you of?

Beatr.: I crie you mercy vncle, by your graces pardon.

exiit Beatrice.

Prince: By my troth a pleafantspirited lady.

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her my lord, she is neuer fad, but when she sleeps, & not euer fad then: for I haue heard my daughter fay, she hath often dreamt of vnhappines, and wakt her selfe with laughing.

Pedro: She cannot indure to heare tell of a husband.

Leonato: O by no meanes, she mockes al her wooers out of fute.

C 3

Prince

Much adoe

Prince She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leonato O Lord, my lord, if they were but a weeke married,
they would take them selfeues madde.

Prince Countie Claudio, when meane you to goe to church?

Claus. To morow my lord, Time goes on crutches, til Loue
haue all his rites.

Leonato Not til monday, my dearefonne, which is hence a
iust feuennight, and a time too briefe too, to haue al things an-
swer my mind.

Prince Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing,
but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not go dully by vs, I
wil in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules labors, which is,
to bring Signior Benedick and the lady Beatrice into a moun-
taine of affection, th' one with th' other, I would faine haue it a
match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but
minifter such affiftance as I shall giue you direction,

Leonato My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights
watchings.

Claud. And I my Lord.

Prince And you too gentle Hero?

Hero I wil do any modest office, my lord, to help my cosin
to a good husband.

Prince And Benedicke is not the vnhopefuller husband
that I know: thus farre can I praisc him, he is of a noble strain,
of approoued valour, and confirmde honesty. I will teach you
how to humour your cosin, that he shall fal in loue with Be-
nedicke, and I, with your two helpes, wil so practise on Bene-
dicke, that in dispfight of his quicke wit, and his queafie flo-
macke, he shall fall in loue with Beatrice: if we can do this, Cu-
pid is no longer an Archer, his glory shall bee ours, for we are
the onely loue-gods, goe in with mee, and I will tell you my
drift.

exit.

Enter John and Borachio.

John It is so, the Counte Claudio shall marry the daughter
of Leonato.

Bora. Yea my lord, but I can croffe it.

John

about Nothing.

John Any barre, any croffe, any impediment, will be med-
cinable to me, I am sicke in difpleasure to him, and whatsoeuer
comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine, how
canft thou croffe this marriage?

Bor. Not honestly my lord, but so courtely, that no disho-
nefty shall appeare in me.

John Shew me briefly how.

Bor. I thinke I told your lordship a yeere since, how much
I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to
Hero.

John I remember.

Bor. I can at any vnfeasonable inftant of the night, appoint
her to looke out at her ladies chamber window.

John What life is in that to be the death of this marriage?

Bor. The poifon of that lies in you to temper, goe you to
the prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that he hath
wronged his honor in marrying the renowned Claudio, whose
estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a contaminated stale,
fuch a one as Hero.

John What proofe shall I make of that?

Bor. Proofe enough, to miſufe the prince, to vexe Claudio,
to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any other
inſue?

John Onely to dispight them I will endeouour any thing.

Bor. Go then, find me a meet houre, to draw don Pedro and
the Counte Claudio alone, tell them that you know that Hero
loues me, intend a kind of zeale both to the prince & Claudio
(as in loue of your brothers honor who hath made this match)
and his friends reputation, who is thus like to bee cosen'd with
the femblance of a maid, that you haue discovered thus: they wil
ſcarcely beleeuue this without triall: offer them inſtances which
ſhall beare no leſſe likelihood, than to fee me at her chamber
window, heare me call Margaret Hero, heare Marg. terme me
Claudio, & bring them to fee this the very night before the in-
tended wedding, for in the mean time, I wil ſo fashion the mat-
ter, that Hero ſhal be abſent and there ſhal appeere ſuch ſeem-
ing truth of Heroes diſloyaltie, that icalouſe ſhal be cald affu-
rance

Much ado

rance, and al the preparation ouerthrowne.

John Grow this to what aduerse iflue it can, I will put it in
practife : be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thou-
and ducates.

Bor. Be you constant in the accufation, and my cunning
shall not flame me.

John I will prefently go learne their day of marriage. exit

Enter Benedicke alone.

Bene. Boy.

Boy Signior.

Bene. In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it hither
to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already fir. exit.

Bene. I know that, but I would haue thee hence and here a-
gaine. I do much wonder, that one man seeing how much an
other man is a foole, when he dedicates his behauiours to loue,
will after he hath laught at such shallow follies in others, becom
the argument of his owne fcorne, by falling in loue, and fucha
man is Claudio, I haue knowne when there was no musique
with him but the drumme and the fifc; and now had he rather
heare the taber and the pipe : I haue knowne when he would
haue walkt ten mile afoot, to fee a good armour, and now wil
he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dublet: he
was woont to fpeake plaine, and to the purpose(hke an honest
man and a fouldier) and now is he turnd ortography, his words
are a very fantasticall banquet, iuft so many ftrange diſhes :
may I be ſo converted and fee with theſe eies? I cannot tell, I
thimke not: I wil not be fworne but loue may transforme me to
an oyſter, but ile take my oath on it, till he haue made and oy-
ſter of me, he ſhall neuer make me ſuch a foole: one woman is
faire, yet I am well, an other is wife, yet I am well : an other
vertuous, yet I am wel: but till all graces be in one woman, one
womá ſhal not com in my grace: rich the ſhal be that's certain,
wife, or ile none, vertuous, or ile neuer cheapen her: faire, or ile
neuer looke on her, mild, or come not neare me, noble, or not I
for an angell, of good diſcourſe, an excellent mufitian, and her
haire

about Nothing.

haire ſhall be of what colour it pleafe God, halſt the prince and
monsieur Loue, I wil hide me in the arbor.

Enter prince, Leonato, Claudio, Muficke.

Prince Come ſhall we heare this musique?

Claud. Yea my good lord: how ſtil the cuening is,
As hufht on purpofe to grace harmonie?

Prince See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe?

Claud. O very well my lord: the musique ended,
Weele fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth.

Enter Balthasar with musique.

Prince Come Balthaſer, weele heare that ſong againe.

Balth. O good my lord, taxe not so bad a voice,
To ſlaunder muſicke any more then once,

Prince It is the witneſſe ſtill of excellencie,
To put a ſtrange face on his owne perſection,
I pray thee ſing, and let me wooe no more.

Balth. Because you talke of wooing I will ſing,
Since many a wooer doth commence his ſute,
To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he ſweare he loues.

Prince Nay pray thee come,
Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Do it in notes.

Balth. Note this before my notes,
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.

Prince Why theſe are very crotchets that he ſpeakes,
Note notes forfooth, and nothing.

Bene. Now diuine aire, now is his foule rauiſht, is it not
ſtrange that sheepes guts should hale foules out of mens bo-
dies? well a horne for my mony when alls done.

The Song.

Sigh no more ladies, ſigh no more,
Men were deceivers euer,
One foote in fea, and one on ſhore,
To one thing constant neuer,
Then ſigh not ſo, but let them go,
And be you blith and bonnie,

D

Con-

Much ado

Converting all your founders of woe,
Into hey nony nony.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy,
The fraud of men was euer so,
Since summer first was leauy,
Then figh not so, &c.

Prince By my troth a good song,

Balth. And an ill finger my lord.

Prince Ha, no no faith, thou singst well enough for a shift.

Ben. And he had bin a dog that should haue howld thus,
they would haue hangd him, and I pray God his bad voice
bode no mischeefe, I had as liue haue heard the night-rauen,
come what plague could haue come after it.

Prince Yea mary, doost thou heare Balthasar? I pray thee
get vs some excellent musique: for to morow night we would
have it at the ladie Heroes chamber window.

Balth. The best I can my lord.

Exit Balthasar.

Prince Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what was
it you told mee of to day, that your niece Beatrice was in loue
with signior Benedicke?

Cla. O I, I, talke on, talk on, the foule fits, I did neuer think
that lady would haue loued any man.

Leo. No nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she should
so dote on signior Benedicke, whome she hath in all outward
beau priors seemd euer to abhorre.

Bene. Is't possible? Fits the wind in that corner?

Leo. By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to thinke of
it, but that she loues him with an enraged affection, it is past the
infinite of thought.

Prince May be the doth but counterfeit.

Claud. Faith like enough.

Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counterfeit of
passion, came so neare the life of passion as the difcouers it.

Prince

about Nothing.

Prince Why what effects of passion shewes she?

Claud. Baite the hooke wel, this fish will bite.

Leon. What effects my Lord? she will fit you, you heard my
daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did indeede.

Prince How, how I pray you! you amaze me, I would haue
thought her spirit had beene inuincible against all affaults of
affection.

Leo. I would hauesworn it had, my lord, especially against
Benedicke.

Bene. I should think this a gull, but that the white bearded
fellow speaks it: knauery cannot fure hide himself in such re-
uerence.

Claud. He hath tane this infection, hold it vp.

Prince Hath shee made her affection knowne to Bene-
dicke?

Leonato No, and sheares shee neuer will, that's her tor-
ment.

Claudio This true indeed, so your daughter faies: shall I, faies
she, that haue so oft encountr'd him with her, write to him
that I loue him?

Leo. This faies she now when she is beginning to write to
him, for sheel be vp twenty times a night, and there will she fit
in her smocke, til she haue writ a sheete of paper: my daughter
tels vs all.

Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty
ieft your daughter told of vs.

Leonato O when she had writ it, and was reading it ouer, she
found Benedicke and Beatrice betweene the sheete.

Claudio That.

Leon. O she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, rail'd
at her self. that she should be so immodest to write to one that
she knew would flout her, I meafure him, faies she, by my own
spirit, for I should flout him, if he writ to me, yea though I loue
him I should.

Clau. Then downe vpon her knees she falls, weepes, fobs,
beates her heart, teares her haire, prayes, curfes, O sweet Bene-
dicke,

D 2

Much ado

dicke, God giue me patience,

Leonato She doth indeed, my daughter faies so, and the ex-
tafie hath so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is some-
time afeard shee will doe a desperate out-rage to her felfe, it is
very true.

Prince It were good that Benedicke knew of it by some o-
ther, if she will not difcover it.

Claudio To what end he would make but a sport of it, and
torment the poore Lady worfe.

Prince And he should, it were an almes to hang him fhees
an excellent fweete lady, and (out of all fuppition,) he is vertu-
ous.

Claudio And he is exceeding wife.

Prince In every thing but in louing Benedicke.

Leonato O my Lord, wifedome and blood combating in
so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that loud hath
the victory, I am fory for her, as I haue iuft caufe, beeing her
uncle, and her gardian.

Prince I would shee had bef towed this dotage on mee, I
would haue daft all other respects, and made her halfe my felfe:
I pray you tell Benedicke of it, and heare what a will fay.

Leonato Were it good thinke you?

Claudio Hero thinkes surely she will die, for she fayes shee
will die, if he loue her not, and shee will die ere shee make her
loue knowne, and she will die if he wooe her, rather than shee
will bate one breath of her accustomed crofnefle.

Prince She doth well, if shee shouldle make tender of her
loue, tis very poffible heele ſcorne it, for the man (as you know
all) hath a contemptible ſpirite.

Claudio He is a very proper man.

Prince He hath indeede a good outward happines.

Claudio Before God, and in my mind, very wife.

Prince Hee dooth indeede ſhew some sparkes that are like
wit.

Claudio And I take him to be valiant.

Prince As Hector, I affure you, and in the manning of
quarrels you may fay he is wife, for either hee auoydes them
with

about Nothing.

with great discretion, or vndertakes them with a moſt chriſt-
ianlike feare.

Leonato If he do feare God, a muſt neceſſarily keep peace,
if hee breake the peace, hee ought to enter into a quarrel with
feare and trembling.

Prince And so will hee doe, for the man doth feare God,
how ſoever it ſeemes not in him, by ſome large ieſtes hee will
make : well I am ſory for your niece, ſhall we goe ſeeke Bene-
dicke, and tell him of her loue?

Claudio Neuer tell him, my Lord, let her weare it out with
good counſell.

Leonato Nay, that's impoffible, ſhee may weare her heart
out first.

Prince Well, we will heare farther of it by your daughter,
let it coole the while, I loue Benedicke well, and I could with
he would modeſtly examine himſelfe, to ſee how much he is
vnworthy so good a lady.

Leonato My lord, will you walke? dinner is ready.

Claudio If he do not doate on her vppon this, I will neuer
truſt my expectation

Prince Let there be the fame nette ſpread for her, and that
muſt your daughter and her gentlewomen carry : the ſporte
will be, when they holde one an opinion of an others dotage,
and no ſuch matter, that's the ſcene that I would ſee, which
will be meerely a dumbe ſhew : let vs ſend her to call him in to
dinner.

Benedicke This can be no tricke, the conference was fadly
borne they haue the trueth of this from Hero, they ſeeme to
pittie the Lady : it ſeemes her affections haue their full bent :
loue me? why it muſt be requited: I heare how I am cenſurde,
they ſay I will beare my ſelfe prowdly, if I perceiue the loue
come from her : they ſay too, that she will rather die than giue
anie ſigne of affection : I did neuer thinke to marry, I muſt
not ſeeme prowd, happy are they that heare their detractions,
and can put them to mending : they ſay the Lady is faire, tis a
trueth, I can beare them witneſſe : and vertuous, tis so, I can-
not reprooue it, and wife, but for louing me, by my troth it is

D 3

BO

Much adoe

no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her follie, for
I will be horribly in loue with her, I may chaunce haue some
odde quirkes and remnants of witte broken on me, becaufe I
haue railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appe-
tite alter? a man loues the meate in his youth, that he cannot im-
dure in his age: Shall quippes and sentences, and these paper
bullets of the brain awe a man from the careere of his humor?
No, the world muft be peopled. When I faide I woulde die a
batcheller, I did not think I should liue til I were married, here
comes Beatrice: by this day, shees a faire lady, I doe spie some
markes of loue in her.

Enter Beatrice.

Beatr. Aganft my will I am ſent to bid you come in to din-
ner.

Bene. Faire Beatrice, I thanke you for your paines.

Beat. I tooke no more paines for thofe thankes, then you
take paines to thanke me, if it had bin painful I would not haue
come.

Bene. You take pleafure then in the meffage.

Beat. Yea iuſt so much as you may take vppon a kniues
point, and choake a daw withall: you haue no ſtomach ſignior,
fare you well, exit.

Bene. Ha, againſt my will I am ſent to bid you come in to
dinner: therea double meaning in that: I took no more paines
for thofe thanks the you took pains to thank me, that as much
as to ſay, any pains that I take for you is as eafy as thanks: if I do
not take pitty of her I am a villaine, if I do not loue her I am a
lew, I will go get her picture, exit.

Enter Hero and two Gentlewomen, Margaret, and Vrſley.

Hero Good Margaret runne thee to the parlour,
There ſhalt thou find my cosin Beatrice,
Propofing with the prince and Claudio,
Whisper her eare and tell her I and Vrſley,
Walke in the orchard, and our whole diſcourse
Is all of her, ſay that thou ouer-heardſt vs,
And bid her ſteale into the pleached bowere
Where hony-fuckles ripened by the funne,

Forbid

about Nothing.

Forbid the ſunne to enter: like ſauourites,
Made proud by princes, that aduaunce their pride,
Againſt that power that bred it, there will ſhe hide her,
To lıſten our propoſe, this is thy office,
Beare thee well in it, and leaue vs alone.

Marg. Ile make her come I warrant you preſently.

Hero Now Vrſula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley vp and downe,
Our talke muſt onely be of Benedicke,
When I do name him let it be thy part,
To prouſe him more than euer man did merite,
My talke to thee muſt be how Benedicke,
Is ſicke in loue with Beatrice: of this matter,
Is little Cupids crafty arrow made,
That onely wounds by heare ſay: now begin,
For looke where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to heare our conference.

Enter Beatrice.

Vrſula The pleafantſt angling is to ſee the filth
Cut with her golden ores the filuer ſtreame,
And greedily deuoure the treacherous baite:
So angle we for Beatrice, who euen now;
Is couched in the wood-bine couerture,
Feare you not my part of the dialogue.

Hero Then go we neare her that her eare loose nothing,
Of the falſe ſwet e baite that we lay for it:
No truly Vrſula, ſhe is too diſdainfull,
I know her ſpirits are as coy and wild,
As haggerds of the rocke.

Vrſula But are you ſure,
That Benedicke loues Beatrice so intirely?

Hero So faies the prince, and my new trothed Lord.

Vrſula And did they bid you tel her of it, madame?

Hero They did intreate me to acquaint her of it,
But I perſwaded them, if they lou'de Benedicke,
To wifh him wraſtle with affection,
And neuer to let Beatrice know of it.

Vrſula

Much adoe

Vrſula Why did you so, dooth not the gentleman
Deferue as full as fortunate a bed,
As euer Beatrice shall couch vpon?

Hero O God of loudest I know he doth deferue.
As much as may be yeelded to a man:

But nature neuer framde a womans hart,
Of prowder fluffe then that of Beatrice:

Difdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eies,
Misprifing what they looke on and her wit
Valewes it selfe so highly, that to her
All matter els seemes weake: she cannot loue,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so selfe indeared.

Vrſula Sure I thinke so,
And therefore certainly it were not good,
She knew his loue left sheele make sport at it.

Hero Why you ſpeake truth. I neuer yet saw man,
How wife, how noble, yong, how rarely featured.
But ſhe would ſpel him backward: if faire faced,
She would ſwere the gentleman should be her fifters.

If blacke, why Nature drawing of an antique,
Made a foule blot: if tall, a launce ill headed:
If low, an agot very vildly cut:

If ſpeaking, why a vane blowne with all winds:
If ſilent, why a blocke moued with none:

So turnes the euery man the wrong ſide out,
And neuer gives to Truth and Vertue, that
Which ſimplenefle and merite purchafeth.

Vrſula Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.

Hero No not to be so odde, and from all fathions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable,
But who dare tell her so? if I should ſpeake,
She would mocke me into ayre, O she would laugh me

Out of my ſelfe, preſſe me to death with wit,
Therefore let Benedicke like coverd fire,

Confume away in ſighes, waffe inwardly:

It were a better death, then die with mockes,

Which

about Nothing.

Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Vrſula Yet tel her of it, heare what ſhe will ſay.

Hero No rather I will go to Benedicke,
And counſaile him to fight againſt his paffion,
And truly ile deuife ſome honest flaunders,
To ſtaine my cosin with, one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoſon liking.

Vrſula O do not do your cosin ſuch a wrong,
She cannot be so much without true iudgement,
Hauing so swift and excellent a wit,
As ſhe is pride to haue, as to refuse
So rare a gentleman as ſignior Benedicke.

Hero He is the only man of Italy,
Alwaies excepted my deare Claudio.

Vrſula I pray you be not angry with me, madame,
Speaking my fancy: ſignior Benedicke,
For shape, for bearing argument and valour,
Goes formoft in report through Italy.

Hero Indeed he hath an excellent good name.

Vrſula His excellence did earne it, ere he had it:
When are you married madame?

Hero Why euery day to morrow, come go in,
Ile ſhow thee ſome attyres, and haue thy counſaile,
Which is the beſt to furnish me to morrow.

Vrſula Shees limed I warrant you,
We haue caught her madame.

Hero If it proue so, then louing goes by haps,
Some Cupid kills with arrowes ſome with traps.

Beat, What fire is in mine eares? can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and ſcorne so much?
Contempt, farewel, and maiden pride, adew,
No glory lives behind the backe of ſuch.
And Benedicke, love one I wil require thee,
Taming my wild heart to thy louing hand:
If thou doſt loue, my kindneſſe shall incite thee
To bind our loues vp in a holy band.

For others ſay thou doſt deferue, and I

E

Beleeue

Much adoe

Beleeue it better then reportedly. exit.

Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.

Prince I doe but say til your mariage be consummate, and then go I toward Arragon.

Claud. Ile bring you thither my lord, if youle vouchsafe me.

Prince Nay that would be as great a foyle in the new glofse of your marriage, as to shew a child his new coate and forbid him to weare it, I wil only be bold with Benedick for his company, for from the crowne of his head, to the sole of his foot, he is al mirth, he hath twice or thrice cut Cupides bow-string, and the little hang-man dare not shoot at him, he hath a heart as found as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinkes, his tongue speakes.

Bene. Gallants, I am not as I haue bin.

Leo. So say I, me thinkes you are fadder.

Clau. I hope he be in loue.

Prince Hang him truant, there's no true drop of bloud in him to be truly toucht with loue, if he be fadde, he wantes money.

Bene. I haue the tooth-ach.

Prince Draw it.

Bene. Hang it.

Claud. You muſt hang it firſt, and draw it afterwards.

Prince What? ſigh for the tooth-ach.

Leon. Where is but a humour or a worme.

Bene. Wel, euery one cannot maſter a griefe, but he that has it.

Claud. Yet say I, he is in loue.

Prince There is no appeerance of fancie in him, vnleſſe it be a fancy that he hath to ſtrange diſguſes, as to be a Dutchman to day, a French-man to morrow, or in the ſhape of two countries at once, as a Germaine from the waſte downward, all ſlops, and a Spaniard from the hip vpward, no dublet: vnleſſe he haue a fancie to this foolery, as it appeares he hath, he is no ſoole for fancy, as you would haue it appeare he is.

Claud.

about Nothing.

Claud. If he be not in loue with some woman, there is no beleeuing old ſignes, a brusſes his hat a mornings, what ſhould that bode?

Prince Hath any man ſeene him at the Barbers?

Claud. No, but the barbers man hath bin ſeene with him, and the olde ornament of his cheeke hath already ſtufft tennis balls.

Leon. Indeed he lookes yonger than he did, by the loffe of a beard.

Prince Nay a rubs himſelfe with ciuit, can you finell him out by that?

Claud. Thats as much as to ſay, the ſweete youthe's in loue.

Bene. The greatest note of it is his melancholy.

Claud. And when was he want to waſh his face?

Prince Yea or to paint himſelfe? for the which I heare what they ſay of him.

Claud. Nay but his ieſting ſpirit, which is now crept into a lute-string, and now gouernd by ſtops.

Prince Indeed that tells a heavy tale for him: conclude, conclude, he is in loue.

Claud. Nay but I know who loues him.

Prince That would I know too, I warrant one that knows him not.

Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions, and in diſpight of al, dies for him.

Prince She ſhall be buried with her face vpwards.

Bene. Yet is this no charme for the tooth-ake, old ſignor, walke aſide with me, I haue ſtudied eight or nine wife wordes to ſpeake to you, which theſe hobby-horſes muſt not heare.

Prince For my life to breake with him about Beatrice.

Claud. Tis euen so, Hero and Margaret haue by this played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two beares will not bite one another when they meete.

Enter John the Baſtard.

Baſtard My lord and brother, God faue you.

Prince Good den brother.

E 2

Baſtard

Much advice

Baſtard If your leisure feru'd, I would ſpeake with you.

Prince In priuate?

Baſtard If it pleafe you, yet Count Claudio may heare, for
what I would ſpeake of concernes him.

Prince What's the matter?

Baſt. Meanes your Lordship to be married to morrow?

Prince You know he does.

Baſt. I know not that when he knowes what I know.

Cland. If there be any impediment, I pray you discouer it.

Baſt. You may think I loue you not, let that appeare here-
after, and ayme better at me by that I now will manifeſt, for
my brother, I thinke, he holdes you well, and in deareneſſe of
heart, hath hope to effect your ensuing marriage: ſurely ſute ill
ſpent, and labor ill beſtowed.

Prince Why what's the matter?

Baſt. I came hither to tel you, and circumſtances ſhortned,
for ſhe has bin too long a talking, the lady is diſloyall.

Cland. Who Hero?

Baſtard. Euen ſhe, Leonatoes Hero, your Hero, euery man
Hero.

Cland. Disſloyall?

Baſt. The word is too good to paint out her wickedneſſe, I
could ſay ſhe were worſe, thinke you of a worſe title, and I wil
fit her to it: wonder not till further warrant: go but with me,
to night you ſhall fee her chamber window entred, euen the
night before her wedding day, if you loue her, then to morow
wed her: But it would better ſitte your honour to change your
mind.

Cland. May this be so?

Prince I wil not thinke it.

Baſt. If you dare not truſt that you fee, conſeſſe not that
you knowe: if you will follow mee, I will ſhow you enough,
and when you haue ſeene more, and heard more, proceede ac-
cordingly.

Clandio If I fee anie thing to night, why I ſhould not mar-
ry her to morrow in the congregation where I ſhould wed,
there will I ſhame her.

Princa

about Nothing.

Prince And as I wooed for thee to obtaine her, I wil ioyne
with thee, to diſgrace her.

Baſtard I will diſparage her no farther, till you are my wit-
neſſes, beare it coldely but till midnight, and let the ill ſue ſhew
it ſelfe.

Prince O day vntowardly turned!

Cland. O miſchicſe ſtrangely thwarting!

Baſtard O plague right well preuented! So will you ſay,
when you haue ſeene the ſequele.

Enter Dogbery and his compartner with the Watch.

Dog. Are you good men and true?

Verges Yea, or eſſe it were pitty but they ſhould ſuffer fal-
uation body and ſoule.

Dog. Nay, that were a puniſhment too good for them, if
they ſhould haue any allegation in them, being choſen for the
Princes watch.

Verges Well, giue them their charge, neighbour Dog-
bery.

Dogbery First, who thinke you the moſt deſartleſſe man
to be Conſtable?

Watch 1 Hugh Ote-cake ſir, or George Sea-cole, for they
can write and reade.

Dogbery Come hither neighbor Sea-cole, God hath bleſt
you with a good name, to be a welfauoured man, is the gift of
Fortune, but to write and reade, comes by nature.

Watch 2 Both which maſter Conſtable.

Dogbery You haue: I knew it would be your anſwer: wel,
for your ſauour ſir, why giue God thanks, and make no boaſt
of it, and for your writing and reading, let that appeere when
there is no neede of ſuch vanity, you are thought heere to be
the moſt ſenſleſſe and fit man for the Conſtable of the watch:
therefore beare you the lanthorne: this is your charge, You
ſhall comprehend all vagrom men, you are to bidde any man
ſtand, in the Princes name.

Watch 2 How if a will not stand?

Dogbery Why then take no note of him, but let him goe,
and

E 3

Much adoe

and presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank
you you are ridde of a knaue.

Verges If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of
the Princes subjeets.

Dogbery True, and they are to meddle with none but the
Princes subjeets : you shall also make no noise in the streetes:
for, for the watch to babble and to talke, is most tollerable, and
not to be indured.

Watch We will rather sleepe than talke, we know what be-
longs to a watch.

Dogbery Why you speake like an antient and most quiet
watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend: one-
ly haue a care that your billes bee not stolne: well; you are to
cal at al the alchoufes, and bid those that are drunke get them to
bed.

Watch How if they will not?

Dogbery Why then let them alone til they are sober, if they
make you not then the better answer, you may say, they are not
the men you tooke them for.

Watch Well sir.

Dogbery If you meete a thiefe, you may sufpeet him, by
vertue of your office, to be no true man: and for such kind of
men, the lefse you meddle or make with them, why the more
is for your honefty.

Watch If we know him to be a thiefe, shall we not lay hands
on him?

Dogbery Truely by your office you may, but I thinke they
that touch pitch will be defilde: the most peaceable way for
you, if you doe take a thiefe, is, to let him know himselfe what
he is, and steale out of your companie.

Verges You haue beene always called a mercifull manne,
partner.

Dog. Truly I would not hang a dogge by my will, much
more a man who hath anie honestie in him.

Verges If you heare a child cri'e in the night you must call to
the nurse and bid her fill it.

Watch How if the nurse be asleep and will not heare vs.

Dog.

about Nothing.

Dog. Why then depart in peace, and let the child wake her
with crying, for the ewe that will not heare her lamb when it
baes, will neuer answer a calfe when he bleates.

Verges Tis very true.

Dog. This is the end of the charge: you constable are to
prefent the princes owne person, if you meete the prince in the
night, you may stay him.

Verges Nay, birlady that I thinke a cannot.

Dog. Five thillings to one on't with any man that knowes
the statutes, he may stay him, Mary not without the prince be
willing, for indeed the watch ought to offend no man, and it is
an offence to stay a man againft his will.

Verges Birlady I thinke it be so.

Dog. Ha ah ha, wel masters good night, and there be any
matter of weight chaunces, call me, keepe your fellowes
counfailes, and your owne, and good night, come neigh-
bour.

Watch Well masters, we heare our charge, let vs goe flatte
here vppon the church bench till twoo, and then all to
bed.

Dog. One word more, honest neighbors. I pray you watch
about Signior Leonatoes doore, for the wedding being there to
morrow, there is a great coyle to night, adiew, be vicitant I be-
feech you.
exeunt.

Enter Borachio and Conrade.

Bor. What Conrade?

Watch Peace, stir not.

Bor. Conrade I say.

Con. Here man, I am at thy elbow.

Bor. Mas and my elbow itch, I thought there would a
scabbe follow.

Con. I will owe thee an answer for that, and now forward
with thy tale.

Bor. Stand thee close then vnder this penthouſe, for it
driffells raine, and I will, like a true drunckard, vtter all to
thee.

Watch Some treason maſters, yet stand close.

Bor.

Much ado

Bor. Therefore know, I haue earned of Dun Iohn a thousand ducates,

Con. Is it possible that any villanie should be so deare?

Bor. Thou shouldst rather aske if it were possible any villanie should be so rich? for when rich villains haue need of poor ones, poore ones may make what price they will.

Con. I wonder at it.

Bor. That shewes thou art vnconfirm'd, thou knowest that the fashion of a dublet, or a hat, or a cloake, is nothing to a man,

Con. Yes, it is apparell.

Bor. I meane the fashion.

Con. Yes the fashion is the fashion.

Bor. Tush, I may as well say the foole's the foole, but feelt thou not what a deformed theefe this fashion is?

Watch I know that deformed, a has bin a vile theefe, this vij. yeere a goes vp and down like a gentle man: remember his name.

Bor. Didst thou not heare some body?

Con. No, twas the vane on the house.

Bor. Seeft thou not (I say) what a deformed theefe this fashion is, how giddily a turnes about all the Hot-blouds, between foureteene and fiue and thirtie, sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoes fouloiours in the rechie painting, sometime like god Bels priests in the old church window, sometime like the shauen Hercules in the smircht worm-eaten tapestry, where his cod-peece feemes as maffie as his club.

Con. Al this I fee, and I fee that the fashion weares out more apparrell then the man, but art not thou thy selfe giddy with the fashion too, that thou haft shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?

Bor. Not so neither, but know that I haue to night wooed Margaret the Lady Heroes gentle-woman, by the name of Hero, the leanes me out at her miftris chamber window, bids me a thousand times good night: I tell this tale vildly. I should first tel thee how the prince Claudio and my mafter planted, and placed, and posseffed, by my mafter Don Iohn, saw a farre off

about Nothing.

off in the orchard this amiable encounter.

Conr. And thought they Margaret was Hero?

Bar. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio, but the diuiel my mafter knew she was Margaret, and partly by his oths, which first posseft them, partly by the darker night which did deceive them, but chieflyely, by my villany, which did confirme any slander that Don Iohn had made, away went Claudio enragde, sfore he would meet her as he was apointed next morning at the Temple, and there, before the whole congregation shame her, with what he saw o're night, and send her home againe without a husband.

Watch 1 We charge you in the princes name stand.

Watch 2 Call vppe the right mafter Constable, wee haue here recouerd the most dangerous peece of lechery, that euer was knowne in the common wealth.

Watch 1 And one Deformed is one of them, I know him, a weares a locke.

Conr. Masters, masters.

Watch 2 Youle be made bring deformed forth I warrant you.

Conr. Masters, neuer speake, we charge you, let vs obey you to go with vs.

Bor. We are like to proue a goodly commoditie, being taken vp of these mens billes.

Conr. A commodity in queftion I warrant you, come weele obey you.

Enter Hero, and Margaret, and Vrfula.

Hero Good Vrfula wake my cosin Beatrice, and desire her to rife,

Vrfula I wil lady.

Hero And bid her come hither.

Vrfula Well.

Marg. Troth I thinke your other rebato were better.

Hero No pray thee good Meg, ile weare this.

Marg. By my troth's not so good, and I warrant your cosin will say so.

Hero My cosin's a foole, and thou art another, ile weare none

F

Much adoe

none but this.

Mar. I like the new tire within excellently, if the haire were a
thought browner: and your gown's a meft rare fashion yfaith,
I saw the Dutchefle of Millaines gowne that they prais'd so.

Hero. O that exceeds they fay.

Marg. By my troth's but a night-gown it respect of yours,
cloth a gold and cuts, and lac'd with filuer, fet with pearles,
downe fleeces,fide fleeces,and skirts,round vnderborne with
a blewifh tinfell, but for a fine queint graceful and excelent fa-
shion,yours is worth ten on't.

Hero. God giue me ioy to weare it, for my heart is exceed-
ing heauy.

Marg. T'll be heauier foone by the weight of a
man.

Hero. Fie vpon thee,art not afhamed?

Marg. Of what lady? of speaking honourably? is not marri-
age honourable in a beggar ? is not your Lord honourable
without marriage? I thinke you would haue me fay, fauing your
reuerence a husband: & bad thinking do not wreft true fpea-
king,ile offend no body, is there any harm in the heauier, for a
husband? none I thinke, and it be the right husband,and the
right wife, otherwife tis light and not heauy, aske my lady Bea-
trice els, here she comes.

Enter Beatrice.

Hero. Good morrow coze.

Beat. Good morrow sweete Hero.

Hero. Why how now? do you fpeake in the ficke tune?

Beat. I am out of all other tune, me thinkes.

Mar. Clap's into Light a loue, (that goes without a burden,) do you fing it, and ile daunce it.

Beat. Ye Light alone with your heels, then if your husband
haue stables enough youle fee he shall lacke no barnes.

Mar. O illegitimate conſtruction ! I ſcorne that with my
heels.

Beat. Tis almost ſiue a clocke coſin, tis time you were rea-
ly, by my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho.

Mar. For a hauke,a horse,or a husband

Beat.

about Nothing.

Beat. For the letter that begins them al, H.

Aler. Wel, and you be not turnde Turke, there's no more
fayling by the starre.

Beat. What meanes the foole trow?

Mar. Nothing I, but God ſend euery one their hearts de-
ſire.

Hero. These gloues the Counte ſent me, they are an excel-
lent perfume.

Beat. I am ſtufft coſin, I cannot ſmell.

Mar. A maide and ſtufft ! there's goodly catching of
colde.

Beat. O God help me, God help me, how long haue you
profest apprehension?

Mar. Euer ſince you left it, doth not my wit become me
rarely?

Beat. It is not ſeene enough, you should weare it in your
cap, by my troth I am ſicke.

Mar. Get you ſome of this diffill'd *cardus benedictus*,
and lay it to your heart, it is the onely thing for a qualme.

Hero. There thou prickſt her with a thiftel.

Beat. Benedicte, why benedicte you haue ſome moral in this
benedictus.

Mar. Morall no by my troth I haue no morall meaning,
I meant plaine holy thiftel, you may thinke perchauce that I
think you are in loue, nay birlady I am not ſuch a foole to think
what I lift, nor I lift not to thinke what I can, nor indeed I can
not think, if I would thinke my heart out of thinking, that you
are in loue, or that you will be in loue, or that you can be in
loue: yet Benedicke was ſuch another, and now is he become a
man, he ſwere he would neuer marry, and yet now in diſpight
of his heart he eates his meate without grudging, and how you
may be conuerted I know not, but me thinkes you looke with
your eies as other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keepes?

Enter Vrſula.

Marg. Not a falſe gallop.

Vrſula. Madame withdraw, the prince, the Count, ſignior
Benedicke, Don Iohn, and all the gallants of the towne are
come

F 2

come

Much adoe

come to fetch you to church.

Hero Help to drefle me good coze, good Meg, good Vr-
fula.

Enter Leonato, and the Constable, and the Headborough.

Leonato What would you with me, honest neighbour?

Conft.Dog. Mary fir I would haue some confidence with
you, that decernes you nearly.

Leonato Briefe I pray you, for you see it is a buſe time with me.

Conſt.Dog. Mary this it is fir.

Headb. Yes in truth it is fir.

Leonato What is it my good friends?

Con.Do. Goodman Verges fir ſpeaks a little of the matter,
an old man fir, and his wittes are not so blunt, as God helpe I
would deſire they were, but inſaith honest, as the skin between
his browes.

Head. Yes I thank God, I am as honest as any man liuing,
that is an old man, and no honeſter then I.

Conſt.Dog. Comparisons are odorous, palabras, neighbour
Verges.

Leonato Neighbors, you are tedious.

Conſt.Dog. It pleafes your worſhip to ſay so, but we are the
poore Dukes officers, but truly for mine owne part, if I were as
tedious as a King I could find in my heart to beſtow it all of
your worſhip.

Leonato Al thy tediousneſſe on me, ah?

Conſt.Dog. Yea, and it were a thousand pound more than is,
for I heare as good exclamation on your worſhippe as of any
man in the citie, and though I be but a poore man, I am glad to
heare it.

Head. And so am I.

Leonato I would faime know what you haue to ſay.

Head. Mary fir our watch to night, excepting your wor-
ships prefence, ha tane a couple of as arrant knaues as any in
Meffina.

Conſt. Dog. A good old man fir, he will be talking as they
fay, when the age is in, the wit is out, God help vs, it is a world
to

about Nothing.

to fee: well faid yfaith neighbour Verges, well, God's a good
man, and two men ride of a horſe, one muſt ride behind, an ho-
neſt ſoule yfaith fir, by my troth he is, as euer broke bread, but
God is to be worſhipt, all men are not alike, alas good neigh-
bour.

Leonato Indeed neighbour he comes too ſhort of you.

Conſt. Do. Gifts that God giues.

Leonato I muſt leaue you.

Conſt. Dog. One word fir, our watch fir haue indeede com-
prehended two aspitious perſons, and wee woulde haue them
this morning examined before your worſhip.

Leonato Take their examination your ſelfe, and bring it me,
I am now in great hafe, as it may appeare vnto you.

Conſtable It ſhall be ſuffigance.

(exit)

Leonato Drinke some wine ere you goe : fare you well.

Meffenger My lord, they ſtay for you, to giue your daugh-
ter to her husband.

Leon. Ile wait vpon them, I am ready.

Dogb. Go good partner, goe get you to Francis Sea-cole,
bid him bring his penne and inckehorne to the Gaole: we are
now to examination theſe men.

Verges And we muſt do it wifely.

Dogbery We will ſpare for no witte I warrant you: heeres
that ſhall drive ſome of them to a noncome, only get the lea-
ned writer to ſet downe our excommunication, and meet me
at the Iaile.

Enter Prince, Bastard, Leonato, Frier, Claudio, Bene-
dicke, Hero, and Beatrice.

Leonato Come Frier Francis be briefe, onely to the plaine
forme of marriage, and you ſhall recount their particular due-
ties afterwards.

Fran. You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.

Claudio No.

Leo To bee married to her : Frier, you come to marry her.

Frier Lady, you come hither to be married to this counte.

Hero I do.

Frier If either of you know any inward impediment why
you

F 3

you

Much adoe

you should not be conicoynd, I charge you on your foules to
vitter it.

Claudio Know you any, Hero?

Hero None my lord.

Frier Know you any, Counte?

Leonato I dare make his anſwer, None.

Claus. O what men dare do! what men may do! what men
daily do, not knowing what they do!

Bene. Howe now! interieſtions ? why then, ſome be of
laughing, as, ah, ha, he.

Claudio Stand thee by Frier, father by your leaue,
Will you with free and vnconſtrained foule
Giue me this maide your daughter?

Leonata As freely ſonne as God did giue her mee.

Claudio And what haue I to giue you backe whole woorth
May counterpoife this rich and pretious gift?

Princz Nothing, vnleſſe you render her againe.

Claudio Sweete Prince, you learne me noble thankfulness
There Leonato, take her backe againe,
Giue not this rotten orenge to your friend,
Shee's but the ſigne and ſemblance of her honor:

Behold how like a maide ſhe bluſhes heere!

O what authoritie and ſhew of truth

Can cunning ſinne couer it ſelfe withall!

Comes not that blood, as moded ſevidence,

To witness ſe simple Vertue? would you not ſweare

All you that fee her, that ſhe were a maide,

By theſe exterior ſhewes? But ſhe is none:

She knowes the heate of a luxurious bed:

Her bluſh is guiltinesſe, not moded ſtie.

Leonato What do you meane, my lord?

Claudio Noto be married,

Not to knit my foule to an approoued wanton.

Leonato Deere my lord, if you in your owne proofe,
Haue vanquifht the refiſtance of her youth,
And made defeate of her virginitie.

Claudio I know what you would ſay : if I haue knowne her,
You

about Nothing.

You will ſay, ſhe did imbrace me as a husband,

And ſo extenuate the forehand ſinne: No Leonato,
I neuer tempted her with word too large,

But as a brother to his ſifter, ſhewed
Bashfull ſinceritie, and comelie loue.

Hero And ſeemde I euer otherwife to you?

Claudio Out on thee ſeeming, I will write againſt it,
You ſeeme to me as Diane in her Orbe,

As chafte as is the budde ere it be blowne:

But you are more intemperate in your blood,

Than Venus, or thofe pampred animalls,

That rage in ſauage ſenſualitie.

Hero Is my Lord well that he doth ſpeake ſo wide?

Leonato Sweete prince, why ſpeake not you?

Prince What should I ſpeake?

I ſtand diſhonourd that haue gone about,

To lincke my deare friend to a common ſtale.

Leonato Are theſe things ſpoken, or do I but dreame?

Baſtard Sir, they are ſpoken, and theſe things are true,

Bened. This looks not like a nuptiall.

Hero True, O God!

Claud, Leonato, ſtand I here?

Is this the prince? is this the princes brother?

Is this face Heroes? are our cies our owne?

Leonato All this is ſo, but what of this my Lord?

Claud, Let me but moute one queſtion to your daughter,
And by that fatherly and kindly power,

That you haue in her, bid her anſwer truly.

Leonato I charge thee do ſo, as thou art my child.

Hero O God defend me how am I befet,

What kind of catechifing call you this?

Claud, To make you anſwer truly to your name.

Hero Is it not Hero, who can blot that name

With any iuſt reproch?

Claud, Mary that can Hero,

Hero it ſelfe can blot out Heroes vertue.

What man was he talkt with you yesternight,

Out at your window betwixt twclue and one?

Now

Much adoe

Now if you are a maide, answer to this.

Hero. I talkt with no man at that hower my lord.

Prince. Why then are you no maiden? Leonato, I am fory you muft heare: vpon mine honor, My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Counte Did fee her, heare her, at that howre laft night, Talke with a ruffian at her chamber window, Who hath indeede moft like a liberall villaine, Confeest the vile encounters they haue had A thousand times in secret.

John. Fie, fie, they are not to be named my lord, Not to be spoke of, There is not chaftitie enough in language, Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty lady, I am fory for thy much miſgouernement.

Claud. O Herotwhat a Hero hadſt thou bin, If halfe thy outward graces had bin placed, About thy thouglus and counſailes of thy heart? But fare thee well, moſt foule, moſt faire, farewell Thou pure impietie, and impious puritie, For thee ile locke vp all the gates of Loue, And on my eie-liddes ſhall Coniecture hang, To turne all beautitie into thoughts of harme, And neuer ſhall it more be gracious.

Leonato. Hath no mans dagger here a point for me.

Beatrice. Why how now coſin, wherfore finke you down?

Bastard. Come let vs go: theſe things come thus to light, Smother her ſpirits vp.

Benedicke. How doth the Lady?

Beatrice. Dead I thinke, help vncle, Hero, why Hero, vncle, ſignior Benedicke, Frier.

Leonato. O Fatetake not away thy heauy hand, Death is the faireſt couer for her ſhame That may be wifht for.

Beatrice. How now coſin Hero?

Frier. Haue comfort lady.

Leonato. Dost thou looke vp?

Frier

about Nothing.

Frier. Yea, wherefore ſhould ſhe not?

Leonato. Wherfore? why doth not euery earthly thing Cry ſhame vpon her? could ſhe here deny The ſtory that is printed in her bloud?

Do not lue Hero, do not ope thine eies: For did I thinke thou wouldſt not quickly die, Thought I thy ſpirites were ſtronger than thy ſhames, My ſelfe would on the rereward of reproches Strike at thy life. Grieued I had but one? Chid I for that at frugall Natures frame? O one too much by thee; why had I one? Why euer waſt thou louely in my eies? Why had I not with charitable hand, Tooke vp a beggars illue at my gates, Who ſinched thus, and mired with infamy, I might haue laid, no part of it is mine, This ſhame deriues it ſelfe from vnknowne loynes, But mine and mine I loued, and mine I praide, And mine that I was prowd on mine ſo much, That I my ſelfe was to my ſelfe not mine: Valewing of her, why ſhe, O ſhe is falne, Into a pit of incke, that the wide ſea Hath drops too few to waſh her cleane againe, And ſalt too little, which may ſeason giue To her foule tainted ſlesh.

Ben. Sir, sir, be patient, for my part I am ſo attired in wonder, I know not what to ſay.

Beatr. O on my foule my coſin is belied.

Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow laſt night? Beatr. No truly, not although vntil laſt night, I haue this twelvemonth bin her bedfellow.

Leon. Conſirmd, conſirmd, O that is ſtronger made, Which was before bard vp with ribs of yron, Would the two princes lie, and Claudio lie, Who loued her ſo, that ſpeaking of her ſoulenſe, Waſht it with teares, thence from her, let her die.

Frier. Heare me a little, for I haue only bin ſilent so long, & given way vnto this courſe of fortune, by noting of the lady, I haue markt,

G

A

Much adoe

A thoufand blushing apparitions,
To start into her face,a thoufand innocent shames,
In angel whitenesse beate away those bluches,
And in her eie there hath appear'd a fire,
To burne the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth:call me a foole,
Trust not my reading,nor my obseruations,
Which with experimental seale doth warrant
The tenure of my booke:trust not my age,
My reverence,calling,nor diuinitie,
If this sweete ladie lie not guiltlesse here,
Vnder some biting errour.

Leonato Frier, it cannot be,
Thou feelst that al the grace that she hath left,
Is, that she will not adde to her damnation,
A finne of periury,she not denies it:
Why feelest thou then to couer with excufe,
That which appeares in proper nakednesse?

Frier Lady, what man is he you are accufde of?
Hero They know that do excufe me, I know none,
If I know more of any man alue

Then that which maiden modety doth warrant,
Let all my finnes lacke mercie,O my father,
Proue you that any man with me conuerst,
At houres vnmeete,or that I yesternight
Maintain the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me,hate me,torture me to death.

Frier There is some strange misprison in the princes.

Bene. Two of them hane the very bent of honour,
And if their wifedomes be misled in this,
The practice of it lies in John the Baftard,
Whole spintes toyle in frame of villanies.

Leonato I know not, if they speake but truth of her,
These hands shall teare her, if they wrong her honour,
The prowdeft of them shal wel heare of it.
Time hath not yet so dried this bloud of mine,
Nor age so eate vp my inuention,

Nor

about Nothing.

Nor Fortune made such hauocke of my meanes,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall find awakte in such a kind,
Both strength of limbe,and policy of mind,
Ability in meanes,and choife of friends,
To quit me of them throughly.

Frier Pawle awhile,
And let my counsell fway you in this cafe,
Your daughter here the princeſſe (left for dead.)
Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
And publish it,that she is dead indeede,
Maintaine a mourning oftentation,
And on your families old monument,
Hang mourneful epitaphes,and do all rites,
That appertaine vnto a buriall.

Leon. What shall become of this? what will this do?
Frier Mary this well caried, shall on her behalfe,
Change ſtaunder to remorſe, that is some good,
But not for that dreame I on this ſtrange course,
But on this trauaile looke for greater birth:
She dying, as it muſt be, so maintain'd,
Vpon the inſtant that ſhe was accuſde,
Shal be lamented, pittied, and excuſde
Of euery hearer: for it so falls out.
That what we haue, we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enioy it, but being lackt and loſt,
Why then we racke the valew, then we find
The vertue that poſſession would not ſhow vs
Whiles it was ours, so will it fare with Claudio:
When hee ſhall heare ſhe died vpon his words,
Th' idea of her life ſhall sweetly creepe,
Into his study of imagination,
And euery louely Organ of her life,
Shall come apparelld in more precious habite,
More moouing delicate, and full of life,
Into the eie and proſpect of his ſoule
Then when the life indeed: then ſhall he mourne,

G 2

If

Much ado

If euer loue had interest in his liuer,
And with he had not so accused her:

No, though he thought his accufation true:

Let this be so, and doubt not but succeſſe
Will fashion the euent in better ſhape,
Then I can lay it downe in likelihood.

But if all ayme but this be leuelld falſe,
The ſuppoſition of the ladies death,
Will quench the wonder of her infamie.

And it ſon not wel, you may conceale her,
As beſt beſits her wounded reputation,
In ſome reclusiue and religious life,
Out of all eies, tongues, minds, and iniuries.

Bene. Signior Leonato, let the Frier aduife you,
And though you know my inwardneſſe and loue
Is very much vinto the prince and Claudio,
Yet, by mine honor, I will deale in this,

As ſecretly and iuſtly as your ſoule
Should with your body,

Leon. Being that I flow in griefe,
The ſmallest twine may leade me.

Frier. Tis wel conſented, preſently away,
For to ſtrange ſores, ſtrangely they ſtraine the cure,
Come lady, die to liue, this wedding day

Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience and endure. exit.

Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept al this while?

Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

Bene. I will not deſire that.

Beat. You haue no reaſon, I do it freely.

Bene. Surely I do believe your faire coſin is wronged.

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deferue of me that
would right her!

Bene. Is there any way to ſhow ſuch friendſhip?

Beat. A very euenway, but no ſuch friend.

Bene. May a man do it?

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

Bene. I doe loue nothing in the worlde so well as you,

is

about Nothing.

is not that ſtrange?

Beat. As ſtrange as the thing I knowe not, it were as poſſi-
ble for me to ſay, I loued nothing so well as you, but beleve me
not, and yet I lie not, I conſeſſe nothing, nor I deny nothing. I
am ſory for my coſin.

Bened. By my ſword Beatrice, thou loueſt me.

Beat. Do not ſweare and eate it.

Bened. I will ſweare by it that you loue me, and I will make
him eate it that ſayes I loue not you.

Beat. Will you not eate your word?

Bened. With no ſawce that can be deuifed to it, I proteſt I
loue thee.

Beat. Why then God forgiue me.

Bened. VVhat offence ſweete Beatrice?

Beat. You haue ſtayed me in a happy houre, I was about
to proteſt I loued you.

Bened. And do it with all thy heart.

Beat. I loue you with so much of my heart, that none is left
to proteſt.

Bened. Come bid me doe any thing for thee.

Beat. Kill Claudio.

Bened. Ha, not for the wide world.

Beat. You kill me to deny it, farewell.

Bened. Tarry ſweete Beatrice.

Beat. I am gone, though I am here, there is no loue in you,
may I pray you let me go.

Bened. Beatrice.

Beat. In faith I will go.

Bened. VVeele be friends firſt.

Beat. You dare eſtler be friends with me, than fight with
mine enemy.

Bened. Is Claudio thine enemy?

Beat. Is a not approoued in the height a villaine, that hath
ſlaundered, ſcorned, diſhonored my kiniſwoman? O that I
were a man! what, beare her in hand, vnnull they come to take
handes, and then with publike accufation vncouerd ſlaunder,
vnmuttigated rancour ? O God that I were a man! I woulde

cate

G 3

Muchadoe

eate his heart in the market place.

Bened. Heare me Beatrice.

Beat. Talk with a man out at a window, a proper saying,

Bened. Nay but Beatrice.

Beat. Sweete Hero, she is wrongd, she is flaundred, shee is
vndone.

Bened. Beat?

Beat. Princes and Countiesturely a princely testimonie,a
goodly Counte, Counte Comfect,a sweete Gallant surely, O
that I were a man for his fake! or that I had any friend woulde
be a man for my fake! But manhood is melted into curlies,
valour into complement,and men are only turnd into tongue,
and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only
tels a lie,and sweares it: I cannot be a man with wifhing,ther-
fore I will die a woman with grieuing.

Bened. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee.

Beatrice Vfe it for my loue some other way than swearing
by it.

Bened. Thinke you in your foule the Count Claudio hath
wrongd Hero?

Beatrice Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a foule.

Bened. Enough, I am engagde, I will challenge him, I will
kiffe your hand, and so I leaue you : by this hand, Claudio shal
render me a deere account: as you heare of me, so think of me:
goe comforte your coofin, I muſt ſay she is dead, and so fare
well.

Enter the Conſtables, Borachio, and the Towne clearke
in gownes.

Keeper Is our whole diſſembly appear'd?

Cowley O a toole and a cushion for the Sexton.

Sexton Which be the maleſt actors?

Andrew Mary that am I, and my partner.

Cowley Nay that's certaine, we haue the exhibition to exa-
mine.

Sexton But which are the offenders? that are to be examin'd, let them come before maſter Conſt able.

Kemp Yea, Mary, let them come before me, what is your
name,

about Nothing.

name, friend?

Bor. Borachio.

Ke. Pray write downe Borachio. Yours firra.

Con. I am a gentleman fir, and my name is Conrade.

Ke. Write downe maſter gentleman Conrade: maſters,
do you ſerue God?

Both Yea fir we hope.

Kem. Write downe, that they hope they ſerue God: and
write God firſt, for God defend but God ſhoule goe before
ſuch villaines: maſters, it is prooued already that you are little
better than false knaues, and it will go neere to be thought so
ſhortly, how anſwer you for your ſelues?

Con. Mary fir we ſay, we are none.

Kemp A maruelous witty ſellowe I affure you, but I will
go about with him: come you hither firra, a word in your eare
fir, I ſay to you, it is thought you are false knaues.

Bor. Sir, I ſay to you, we are none.

Kemp V Vел, stand aside, fore God they are both in a tale:
haue you writ downe, that they are none?

Sexton Maſter Conſt able, you go not the way to examine,
you muſt call ſoorth the watch that are their accuſers.

Kemp Yea, Mary, that's the eſt way, let the watch come
forth: maſters, I charge you in the Princes name accuſe these
men.

Watch 1 This man ſaid fir, that don Iohn the Princes bro-
ther was a villaine.

Kemp Write downe, prince Iohn a villaine: why this is flat
periurie, to call a Princes brother villaine.

Borachio Maſter Conſt able.

Kemp Pray thee ſellowe peace, I do not like thy looke I
promife thee.

Sexton V Vhat heard you him ſay eſſ?

Watch 2 Mary that he had receu'd a thouſand duckats of
don Iohn, for accuſing the Ladie Hero wrongfully.

Kemp Flat burglarie as euer was committed.

Conſt. Yea by mafle that it is.

Sexton V Vhat eſſ ſellow?

Watch

Much adoe

Watch I And that Counte Claudio did meane vppon his
wordes, to difgrace Hero before the whole asl embie, and not
marrie her.

Kemp O villaine! thou wilt be condemn'd into euermasting
redemption for this.

Sexton V What else? Watch This is all.

Sexton And this is more maisters then you can deny, prince
John is this morning secrethe stolne awaie : Hero was in this
manner accufde, in this verie manner reſuſde, and vppon the
grieſe of this ſodainlie died : Maiſter Conſtable, let theſe men
be bound, and brought to Leonatoes, I will goe before and
ſhow him their examination.

Conſtable Come, let them be opiniond.

Coustey Let them be in the hands of Coxcombe.

Kemp Gods my life, wheres the Sexton? let him write down
the Princes officer Coxcombe: come, bind them, thou naught
ty varlet.

Coustey Away, you are an aſſe. you are an aſſe.

Kemp Dooſt thou not ſuſpect my place ? dooſt thou not
ſuſpect my yeeres? O that he were here to write me downe an
aſſet but maisters, remember that I am an aſſe, though it bee
not written downe, yet for get not that I am an aſſe : No thou
villaine, thou art full of pietie as that be prou'd epon thee by
good witnes, I am a wife fellow, and which is more, an officer,
and which is more, a houſholder, and which is more, as pret-
ty a peecce of ſſleth as anie is in Meſſina , and one that knowes
the Law, goe to, and a rich fellow enough, go to, and a fellow
that hath had loſſes, and on, that hath two gownes, and every
thing hansome about him : bring him away: O that I, had bin
writ downe an aſſet. I exit.

Enter Leonato and his brother.

Brother If you go on thus, you will kill your selfe,
And tis not wisedome thus to ſecond griefe,
Againſt your ſelfe.

Leonato I pray thee ceaſe thy counſaile,
Which falles into mine eares as profileſle,
As water in a ſyue: giue not me counſaile,

Nor

about Nothing.

Nor let no comforter delight mine eare,
But ſuch a one whose wrongs doe fute with mine.
Bring me a father that so lou'd his child,
Whofe joy of her is ouer-whelmd like mine,
And bid him ſpeake of patience,
Meaſure his woe the length and breθd of mine,
And let it anſwer every ſtraine for ſtraine,
As thus for thus, and ſuch a griekſe for ſuch,
In euery lineament, branch, ſhape, and forme:
If ſuch a qne will ſmile and ſtroke his beard,
And ſorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he ſhould grone,
Patch griekſe 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
Can counſaile, and ſpeake comfort to that griekſe,
Which they themſelues not feele, but taſting it,
Their counſaile turnes to paſſion, which before,
Would giue preceptiall medicine to rage,
Fetter ſtrong madneſſe in a ſilken thred,
Charme ach with ayre, and agony with words,
No, no, tis all mens office, to ſpeake patience
To that eſt that wring vnder the loade of ſorrow
But no mans vertue nor ſufficiencie
To be ſo morall, when he ſhall endure
The like himſelfe: therefore giue me no counſaile,
My griekſes crie lowder then aduertiſement.

Brother Therein do men from children nothing differ.

Leonato I pray thee peace, I will be fleſh and bloud,
For there was neuer yet Philofopher,
That could endure the tooth-ake patiently,
How euer they haue writ the ſtle of gods,
And made a puſh at chance and ſufferance.

Brother Yet bend not all the harme vpon your ſelfe,
Make that eſt that do offend you, ſuffer too.

Leonato There thou ſpeakſt reaſon, nay I will do so,
My ſoule doth tell me, Hero is belied,

H

And

Much adoe

And that shall Claudio know, so shall the prince,
And all of them that thus dishonour her.

Enter Prince and Claudio.

Brother Here comes the Prince and Claudio haftily.

Prince Good den, good den.

Claudio Good day to both of you.

Leonato Heare you my L.ords?

Prince We haue some haſte Leonato.

Leonato Some haſte my lord! well, fare you well my lord,
Are you so haſtly now? well, all is one.

Prince Nay do not quarrel with vs, good old man.

Brother If he could right himselfe with quarrelling,
Some of vs would lie low.

Claudio Who wrongs him?

Leona. Mary thou doſt wrong me, thou diſembler, thou:
Nay, neuer lay thy hand vpon thy ſword,
I feare thee not.

Claudio Mary beſhrew my hand,
If it ſhould giue your age ſuch cauſe offeare,
In faith my hand meant nothing to my ſword.

Leonato Tuſh, tuſh man, neuer fleere and ieſt at me,
I ſpeake not like a dotard, nor a fooler,
As vnder priuilege of age to bragge,
What I haue done being yong, or what would doe,
Were I not old, know Claudio to thy head,
Thou haſt ſo wrongd mine innocent child and me,
That I am forſt to lay my reuerence by,
And with grey haires and bruſe of many daies,
Do challenge thee to triall of a man,
I ſay thou haſt belied mine innocent child.

Thy ſlander hath gone through and through her heart,
And the lies buried with her anceſtors:

O in a toomb where neuer ſcandal ſlept,
Saue this of hers, framde by thy villanie.

Claudio My villany?

Leonato Thine Claudio, thine I ſay.

Prince You ſay not right old man.

Leonato

about Nothing.

Leonato My Lord, my Lord,
Ile prooue it on his body if he dare,
Difpight his nice ſence, and his adiue praeſiſe,
His Maie of youth, and bloome of luſtliood.

Claudio A way, I will not haue to doe with you.

Leonato Canſt thou ſo daffe me? thou haſt kild my child,
If thou killſt me, boy, thou ſhalt kill a man,

Brother He ſhal kill two of vs, and men indeed,
But that's no matter, let him kill one firſt:
Win me and weare me, let him anſwer me,
Come follow me boy, come fir boy, come follow me
Sir boy, ile whip you from your foſying ſence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman I, will.

Leonato Brother.

Brother Content your ſelf, God knowes, I loued my neece,
And he is dead, ſlanderd to death by villaines,
That da. e as well anſwer a man indeed,

As I dare take a ſerpent by the tongue,
Boyes, apes, braggarts, lacke's, milke-fops.

Leonato Brother Anthony.

Brother Hold you content, what man! I know them, yea
And what they weigh, euen to the vtmoſt ſcruple,
Scambling, out-facing, ſaſhion-monging boies,
That lie, and cogge, and flout, depraue, and ſlaunder,
Go antiquely, and ſhew outward hidiouſneſſe,
And ſpeake of haſſe a dozen dang'rous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durſt,
And this is all.

Leonato But brother Anthonie.

Brother Come this no matter,
Do not you meddle, let me deale in this.

Prince Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience,
My heart is ſory for your daughters death:

But on my honour he was chargde with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proofe.

Leonato My Lord, my Lord.

Prince I will not heare you.

H 2

Leonato

Much adoe

Leo. No come brother, away, I wil be heard. Exeunt amb.

Bro. And thal, or some of vs wil finart for it. Enter Ben.

Prince See fee, heere comes the man we went to seeke.

Cland. Now signior, what newes?

Bened. Good day my Lord :

Prince Welcome signior, you are almost come to parte almost a fray.

Cland. Wee had likt to haue had our two nofes finapt off with two old men without teeth.

Prince Leonardo and his brother what thinkst thou? had we fought, I doubt we should haue beene too yong for them.

Bened. In a falfe quarrell there is no true valour, I came to seeke you both.

Cland. We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for we are high proofe melancholie, and would faire haue it beaten away, witt thou vfe thy w it ?

Bened. It is in my scabberd, thal I drawe it?

Prince Doeft thou weare thy wit by thy fide?

Cland. Neuer any did so, though very many haue been be-fide their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as wee doe the minftrels, draw to pleafure vs.

Prince As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art thou fice, or angry?

Cland. What, courage man : what though care kild a catte, thou haft mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bened. Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and you charge it againft me, I pray you chufe another fubieſt

Cland. Nay then giue him another ſtaffe, this laft was broke croſſe.

Prince By this light, he chaanges more and more, I thinke he be angry indeed.

Cland. If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle.

Bened. Shall I peake a word in your eare ?

Cland. God bleſſe me from a challenge.

Bened. You are a villaine, I ieaſt not, I will make it good howe you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare: doe mee right, or I will protest your cowardife : you haue kill a

fweets

about Nothing.

ſweeſte Lady, and her death ſhall fall heauie on you, let me heare from you.

Cland. Well I wil meete you, ſo I may haue good cheare.

Prince What, a feaſt, a ſeaſt?

Cland. 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 He tell thee how Beatrice praisd thy witte the other day: I faid thou hadſt a fine witte, true faid ſhe, a fine little one: no ſaid I, a great wit: right ſaies ſhe, a great groſſe one: may ſaid I, a good wit, iuſt ſaid ſhe, it hurts no body: may ſaid I, the gentleman is wife: certaine ſaid ſhe, a wife gentleman: may ſaid I, he hath the tongues: that I beleuee ſaid ſhee, for he ſwere a thing to mee on munday night, which hee forſwore on tuesday morning, therea double tongue theirs two tongues, thus did ſhee an houre together: tranſſape thy particular vertues, yet at laſt ſhe concluded with a ſigh, thou waſt the properſt man in Italy.

Cland. For the which ſhee wept heartily and ſaide ſhe ca-red not.

Prince Yea that ſhe did, butyet for all that, and if ſhe did not hate him deadly, ſhe would loue him dearely, the old mans daughter told vs all.

Cland. All all, and moreouer, God fawe him when he was hid in the garden.

Prince But when ſhall we let the ſauage bulles hornes one the ſenſible Benedicks head?

Cland. Yea and text vnder-neath, here dwells Benedick the married man.

Bened. 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 courtilges I thanke you, I muſt difconſi-nue your company, your brother the baſtard is fled from Mef-fina: you 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,

H 3

Prince

Much adoe

Prince He is in earneft.

Claudio In most profound earneſt, and ile warrant you, for
the loue of Beatrice.

Prince And hath challengde thee.

Claudio Most fincerely.

Prince What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his
dublet and hofe, and leaves off his wit!

Enter Conftables, Conrade, and Borachio.

Claudio He is then a Giant to an Ape, but then is an Ape a
Doctor to such a man.

Prince But Soft you, let me be, plucke vp my heart, and be
fad, did he not say my brother was fled?

Conſt. Come you fir, if iuſtice cannot tame you, ſhe ſhall
nere weigh more reaſons in her ballance, nay, and you be a
curling hypocrite once, you muſt be lookt to.

Prince How now, two of my brothers men bound? Bora-
chio one.

Claudio Hearken after their offence my Lord.

Prince Officers, what offence haue theſe men done?

Conſt. Mary fir, they haue committed falſe report, moreou-
er they haue ſpoken vntruths, ſecondarily they are ſlanders,
ſixt and laſtly, they haue belyed a Lady, thirdly they haue ve-
refied vn>iſt thinges, and to conclude, they are lying knaues.

Prince. Firſt I aske thee, what they haue done, thirdly I
ask thee what their offence, ſixt and laſtly why they are com-
mitted, and to conclude, what you lay to their charge.

Claud. Rightly reaſoned, and in his owne diuifion, and by
my troth there's one meaning well ſuted.

Prince Who haue you off ended maſters, that you are thus
bound to your anſwere? this learned Conſt able is too cunning
to be vnder ſtood, what's your offence ?

Bor. Sweete prince, let me goe no farther to mine anſwere:
do you heare me, and let this Counte kill me: I haue deceuſed
euen your very eyes: what your wifedoms could not diſcouer,
theſe ſhallowe fooles haue brought to light, who in the night o-
aer heard me confefſing to this man, how Don John your bro-
her incenſed me to ſlaunder the Lady Hero, howe you were
brought

about Nothing.

brought into the orchard, and I saw me court Margaret in He-
roes garments, how you diſgracde hir when you ſhould marry
hir: my villany they haue vpon record, which I had rather feale
with my death, then repeat ouer to my ſhame: the lady is dead
vpon mine and my maſters falſe accuſation: and briefly, I de-
fire nothing but the reward of a villaine.

Prince Runnes not this ſpeech like yron through your
bloud?

Claud. I haue dronke poſſon whiles he vittert it,

Prince But did my brother ſet thee on to this?

Bor. Yea, and paid me richly for the præſiſe of it.

Prince He is compoſe and framde of treacherie,
And fled he is vpon this villanie.

Clau. Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appeare
In the rare ſemblance that I lou'd it firſt.

Conſt. Come, bring away the plaintiſſes, by this time our
ſexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: and ma-
ſters, do not forget to ſpeciſe when time and place ſhal ſerue,
that I am an aſſe.

Conſ. 2 Here, here comes maſter Signior Leonato, and the
ſexton too.

Enter Leonato, bis brother, and the Sexton.

Leonato Which is the villaine? let me fee his eies,
That when I note another man like him,
I may auoide him: which of theſe is he?

Bor. If you would know your wronger, looke on me.

Leonato Art thou the ſlaue that with thy breath haſt killed
Mine innocent child?

Bor. Yea, euen I alone.

Leo. No, not so villaine, thou belieſt thy ſelfe,
Here stand a paire of honourable men,

A third is fled that had a hand in it:
I thanke you Princes for my daughters death,
Record it with your high and worthy deeds,
T was brauely done, if you bethinke you of it.

Clau. I know not how to pray your pacience,
Yet I muſt ſpeake, chooſe your reuenge your ſelfe,

Impoſe

Much adoe

Impose me to what penance your inuention
Can lay vpon my finne,yet finnd I not,
But in multaking.

Prince By my foule nor I,
And yet to satisfie this good old man,
I would bend vnder any heauy waight,
That heele enioyne me to.

Leonato I cannot bid you bid my daughter liue,
That were imposſible but I pray you both,
Poffeſſe the people in Mefliina here,
How innocent ſhe died,and if your loue
Can labour aught in ſad inuenion,
Hang her an epitaph vpon her toomb,
And ſing it to her bones,ſing it to night:
To morrow morning come you to my house,
And ſince you could not be my ſon in law,
Be yet my nephew:my brother hath a daughter,
Almoſt the copie of my child that's dead,
And ſhe alone is heyre to both of vs,
Giuſe her the right you ſhould haue giu'n her coſin,
And ſo dies my reuence.

Claudio O noble fir!
Your ouer kindneſſe doth wring teares from me,
I do embrace your offer and diſpofe,
For henceforth of poore Claudio.

Leonato To morrow then I wil expect your comming,
To night I take my leaue,this naughty man
Shal face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who I beleeuе was packt in al this wrong,
Hyred to it by your brother,

Bor. No by my foule ſhe was not,
Nor knew not what ſhe did when ſhe spoke to me,
But always hath bin iuſt and vertuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.

Conſt. Moreover fir, which indeede is not vnder white and
blacke, this plaintiſſe heere, the offendour, did call me aſſe, I
beſeech you let it be remembred in his puniſhment; and alſo
the

about Nothing.

the watch heard them talke of one Deformed, they fay he
weares a key in his eare and a locke hanging by it, and borows
monie in Gods name, the which he hath vde for ſo long, & neuer
paied, that now men grow hard hearted and wil leud nothing
for Gods ſake: prie you examine him vpon that point.

Leonato I thanke thee for thy care and honeft paines.

Conſt. Your worſhip ſpeakes like a moſt thankful and re-
uerent youth, and I prieſe God for you,

Leon. Theres for thy paines.

Conſt, God ſaue the foundation.

Leon. Goe, I diſcharge thee of thy prifoner, and I thanke thee.

Conſt. I leaue an arrant knaue with your worſhip, which I
beſeech your worſhip to correct your ſelfe, for the example of
others: God keepe your worſhip, I wifh your worſhip well,
God reſtore you to health, I humblie giue you leaue to depart
and if a merie meeting may be wiſht, God prohibiteth : come
neighbour.

Leon. Vntill to morrow morning, Lords, farewell.

Brot. Farewell my lords, we looke for you to morrow.

Prince We will not faile.

Claud. To night ile mourne with Hero.

Leonato Bring you theſe fellowes on, weel talke with Mar-
garet, how her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. exeunt
Enter Benedicke and Margaret.

Bened. Praie thee ſweete miſtris Margaret, deferue well at
my hands, by helping me to the ſpeech of Beatrice.

Mar. Wil you then write me a ſonnet in prieſe of my bea-
tie?

Bene. In ſo high a ſtyle Margaret, that no man huing ſhall
come ouer it, for in moſt comely truth thou deferueſt it.

Mar. To haue no man come ouer me, why ſhal I alwaies
keep below ſtaires.

Bene. Thy wit is as quicke as the grey-hounds mouth, it catches.

Mar. And your's, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which hit,
but hurt not.

I

Bene.

Much adoe

Bene. A moft manly witte Margaret, it will not hurt a woyman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the bucklers.

Marg. Giue vs the swordes, wee haue bucklers of our owne.

Bene. If you vse them Margaret, you muſt putte in the pikes with a vice, and they are daungerous weapons for maides.

Mar. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke hath legges.
Exit Margarite.

Bene. And therefore wil come. The God of loue that fits aboue, and knowes mee, and knowes me, how pittifull I deferue. I meane in finging, but in louing, Leander the good ſwimmer, Troilus the firſt imploier of pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet runne finoothly in the euen rode of a blanke verſe, why they were neuer so truly turnd ouer and ouer as my poore ſelfe in loue:mary I cannot ſhow it in rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent rime: for ſcorne, horne,a hard rime:for ſchoole ſoole,a babling rime:very omogenous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a riming plannet, nor I cannot wooe in festiuall termes:ſweete Beatrice wouldſt thou come when I cald thee?

Enter Beatrice.

Beat. Yea ſignior, and depart when you bid me.

Bene. O stay but till then.

Beat. Then, is ſpoken: fare you well now, and yet ere I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with knowing what hath paſt betweene you and Claudio.

Bene. Only ſoule words, and therevpon I will kiffle thee.

Beat. Foule words is but ſoule wind, and ſoule wind is but ſoule breath, and ſoule breath is noisome, therfore I wil depart vnkiff.

Bene. Thou haſt frighted the word out of his right ſence, ſo forcible is thy wit, but I muſt tel thee plainly, Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I muſt ſhortly heare from him, or I will ſubſcribe him a coward, and I pray thee now tell me, for

about Nothing.

for which of my bad parts didſt thou firſt fal in loue with me?

Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd ſo politique a ſtate of euil, that they will not admitte any good part to intermingle with them: but for which of my good parts did you firſt ſuffer loue for me?

Bene. Suffer loueta good epithite, I do ſuffer loue indeed, for I loue thee againſt my will.

Beat. In ſpight of your heart I thinke, alas poore heart, if you ſpight it for my ſake, I will ſpight it for yours, for I wil neuer loue that which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wife to wooe peaceably.

Beat. It appears not in this conſeſſion, there's not one wife man among twentie that will praisè himſelfe.

Bene. An old, an old inſtance Beatrice, that liu'd in the time of good neighbours, if a man do not erect in this age his owne toomb ere he dies, he ſhall liue no longer in monument, then the bell rings, and the widow weepes.

Beat. And how long is that thinke you?

Bene. Quæſtion, why an hower in clamour and a quarter in rhewme, therefore is it moſt expedient for the wife, if Don worme (his conſciencie) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as I am to my ſelf so much for praising my ſelfe, who I my ſelfe will beare witnes is praisè worthie, and now tell me, how doth your cofin?

Beat. Verie ill.

Bene. And how do you?

Beat. Verie ill too.

Bene. Serue God, loue me, and mend, there wil I leaue you too, for here comes one in haſte.

Enter Vrſula.

Vrſula. Madam, you muſt come to your vncle, yonders old coile at home, it is prooued my Lady Hero hath bin falſely acuſde, the Prince and Claudio mightily abuſde, and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone : will you come preſently?

Beat. Will you go heare this newes ſignior?

Bene. I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eies; and moreouer, I will go with thee to thy vncles. exit.

Much adoe

Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or foure with tapes.

Claudio Is this the monument of Leonato?

Lord It is my Lord. Epitaph.

Done to death by flaunderous tongues,
Was the Hero that heere lies:

Death in guerdon of her wronges,
Gives her fame which neuer dies:

So the life that dyed with shame,
Lines in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there vpon the toomb,
Prailing hir when I am dead.

Claudio Now muſick found & ſing your ſolemne hymne.

Song Pardon goddeſſe of the night,

Thoſe that flew thy virgin knight,
For the which with ſongs of woe,

Round about her tombe they goe:

Midnight afflitt our mone, help vs to ſigh & grore.

Heauily heauily.

Graues yawne and yeeld your dead,

Till death be vitered,

Heauily heauily. (right.

Lo. Now vnto thy bones good night, yeerely will I do this

Prince Good morrow maſters, put your torches out,

The wolues haue preied, and looke, the gentle day

Before the wheeleſ of Phœbus, round about

Dapples the drowſe Eaſt with ſpots of grey:

Thanks to you al, and leaue vs, fare you well.

Claudio Good morrow maſters each his feuerall way.

Prince Come let vs hence, and put on other weedes,

And then to Leonatoes we will goe.

Claudio And Hymen now with luckier illſue ſpeeds,

Then this for whom we rendred vp this woe. exeunt.

Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret Urula, old man, Frier, Hero.

Frier Did I not tell you ſhee was innocent?

Leo. So are the Prince and Claudio who accuſd her,

Vpon the errour that you heard debated:

But Margaret was in ſome fault for this,

Although againſt her will as it appears,

In

about Nothing.

In the true course of all the question.

Old Wel, I am glad that all things forts ſo well,

Bened. And ſo am I, being else by faith enfortſ

To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leo. Well daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by your ſelues,

And when I ſend for you come hither masked:
The Prince and Claudio promiſde by this howre

To viſite me, you know your office brother,

You muſt be father to your brothers daughter,

And giue her to young Claudio.

Exeunt Ladies.

Old Which I will doe with confirm'd countenance.

Bened. Frier, I muſt intreate your paines, I thinke.

Frier To doe what Signior ?

Bened. To bind me, or vndo me, one of them :

Signior Leonato, truth it is good Signior,

Your niece regards me with an eye of ſauour.

Leo. That eye my daughter lent her, tis moſt true.

Bened. And I do with an eye of loue requite her.

Leo. The fight whereot I thinke you had from me,

From Claudio and the Prince, but what's your will?

Bened. Your anſwere ſir is enigmaticall,

But for my wil, my will is, your good will

May ſtand with ours, this day to be conioynd,

In the ſtate of honorable marriage,

In which (good Frier) I ſhal deſire your help.

Leo. My heart is with your liking.

Frier And my helpe.

Heere comes the Prince and Claudio.

Enter Prince, and Claudio, and two or three other.

Prince Good morrow to this faire ſeffembly.

Leo. Good morrow Prince, good morrow Claudio:

We heere attend you, are you yet determined,

To day to marry with my brothers daughter?

Claud. Ile hold my mind were ſhe an Ethiope.

Leo Call her foorth brother, heres the Frier ready.

P. Good morrow Bened, why what's the matter?

That

I 3

Much adoe

That you haue such a Februarie face,
So full of froſt, of ſtorme, and clowdineſſe.

Claud. I thinke he thinkes vpon the ſauage bull:
Tuſh ſeare not man, weele tip thy hornes with gold,
And all Europa ſhall reioyce at thee,
As once Europa did at luſtie loue,
When he would play the noble beaſt in loue.

Bene. Bull Ioue fir had an amiable lowe,
And ſome ſuch ſtrange bull leapt your fathers cowe,
And got a calſe in that ſame noble ſeate,
Much like to you, for you haue iuſt his bleate.

Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Urſula.

Claud. For this I owe you: here comes other recknings.
Which is the Lady I muſt feize vpon?

Lee. This fame is ſhe, and I do giue you her.

Claud. Why then ſhees mine, ſweet, let me ſee your face.

Leon. No that you ſhall not till you take her hand,
Before this Frier, and ſweare to marry hir.

Claud. Giue me your hand before this holy Frier,
I am your husband if you like of me.

Hero. And when I liu'd I was your other wife,
And when you loued, you were my other husband.

Claud. Another Hero.

Hero. Nothing certainer,
One Hero died defilde, but I do liue,
And ſurely as I liue, I am a maide.

Prince. The former Hero, Hero that is dead.

Leon. She died my Lord, but whiles her ſlaunder liu'd.

Frier. All this amazement can I qualifie,
When after that the holy rites are ended,
Ile tell you largely of faire Heroes death,
Meane time let wonder ſeeme familiar,
And to the chappell let vs presently.

Ben. Soft and faire Frier, which is Beatrice?

Beatr. I anſwer to that name, what is your will?

Bene. Do not you loue me?

Beau. Why no, no more then reaſon.

Bene.

about Nothing.

Bene. Why then your vnkle, and the prince, and Claudio,
Haue beene deceiued, they ſwore you did.

Beat. Do not you loue me?

Bene. Troth no, no more then reaſon.

Beat. Why then my coſin Margaret and Vrſula
Are much deceiu'd, for they did ſweare you did.

Bene. They ſwore that you were almoſt ſicke for me.

Beat. They ſwore that you were welnigh dead for me.

Bene. Tis no ſuch matter, then you do not loue me.

Beat. No truly, but in friendly recompence.

Leon. Come coſin, I am ſure you loue the gentleman.

Claud. And ile beſworne vpon't, that he loues her,
For heres a paper written in his hand,
A halting ſonnet of his owne pure braine,
Fashioned to Beatrice.

Hero. And heres another,
Writ in my coſins hand, ſtolne from her pocket,
Containing her affection vnto Benedicke.

Bene. A miracle, heres our owne hands againſt our hearts:
come, I will haue thee, but by this light I take thee for pittie.

Beat. I would not denie you, but by this good day, I yeeld
vpon great perſwafion, and partly to ſaue your life, for I was
told, you were in a consumption.

Leon. Peace I will stop your mouth.

Prince. How doſt thou Benedicke the married man?

Bene. Ile tel thee what prince:a colledge of witte-crackers
cannot flout me out of my humour, doſt thou think I care for
a Satyre or an Epigramme? no, if a man will be beaten with
braines, a ſhall weare nothing banſome about him: in briefe,
fince I doe purpofe to marrie, I will think nothing to anie pur-
poſe that the world can ſae againſt it, and therfore neuer flout
at me, for what I haue ſaid againſt it: for man is a giddie thing,
and this is my conclusion : for thy part Claudio, I did thinke
to haue beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman,
lie vnbruſſde, and loue my couſen.

Claud. I had wel hopte thou wouldſt haue denied Beatrice,
that I might haue cudgelld thee out of thy ſingle life, to make
thee

Much adoe

thee a double dealer, which out of question thou wilt be, if my coofin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends, lets have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wiues heeles.

Leon. Weele haue dancing afterward.

Bene. First, of my worde, therefore plaie muſicke, Prince, thou art fad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife, there is no ſtaffe more reuerent then one tipt with horne.

Enter Messanger.

Meff. My Lord, your brother John is tane in flight,
And brought with armed men backe to Meſſina.

Bene. Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuife thee braue puniſhments for him:ſtrike vp Pipers. dance.

FINIS.