The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  CLAUDIO And I, my lord.

  DON PEDRO And you too, gentle Hero?

  HERO I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband.

  DON PEDRO And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him: he is of a noble strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin that she shall fall in love with Benedick, and I, with your two helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. Exeunt

  2.2 Enter Don John and Borachio

  DON JOHN It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato.

  BORACHIO Yea, my lord, but I can cross it.

  DON JOHN Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me. I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?

  BORACHIO Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me.

  DON JOHN Show me briefly how.

  BORACHIO I think I told your lordship a year since how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero.

  DON JOHN I remember.

  BORACHIO I can at any unseasonable instant of the night appoint her to look out at her lady’s chamber window.

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

  BORACHIO The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the Prince your brother. Spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio—whose estimation do you mightily hold up—to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.

  DON JOHN What proof shall I make of that?

  BORACHIO Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue?

  DON JOHN Only to despite them I will endeavour anything.

  BORACHIO Go then. Find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone. Tell them that you know that Hero loves me. Intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio as in love of your brother’s honour who hath made this match, and his friend’s reputation who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial. Offer them instances, which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio. And bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the mean time I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero’s disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

  DON JOHN Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

  BORACHIO Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.

  DON JOHN I will presently go learn their day of marriage. Exeunt

  2.3 Enter Benedick

  BENEDICK Boy! ⌈Enter Boy⌉

  BOY Signor?

  BENEDICK In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it hither to me in the orchard.

  BOY I am here already, sir.

  BENEDICK I know that, but I would have thee hence and here again. ⌈Exit Boy⌉ I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love. And such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife, and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten mile afoot to see a good armour, and now will he lie ten nights awake carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier, and now is he turned orthography. His words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see with these eyes? I cannot tell. I think not. I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster, but I’ll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well. Another is wise, yet I am well. Another virtuous, yet I am well. But till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that’s certain. Wise, or I’ll none. Virtuous, or I’ll never cheapen her. Fair, or I’ll never look on her. Mild, or come not near me. Noble, or not I for an angel. Of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! The Prince and Monsieur Love. I will hide me in the arbour.He hides. Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Leonato, and Claudio

  DON PEDRO Come, shall we hear this music?

  CLAUDIO

  Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,

  As hushed on purpose to grace harmony.

  DON PEDRO (aside) See you where Benedick hath hid himself?

  CLAUDIO (aside)

  O, very well, my lord. The music ended,

  We’ll fit the hid-fox with a pennyworth.

  Enter Balthasar with music

  DON PEDRO Come, Balthasar, we’ll hear that song again.

  BALTHASAR

  O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice

  To slander music any more than once.

  DON PEDRO

  It is the witness still of excellency

  To put a strange face on his own perfection.

  I pray thee sing, and let me woo no more.

  BALTHASAR

  Because you talk of wooing I will sing,

  Since many a wooer doth commence his suit

  To her he thinks not worthy, yet he woos,

  Yet will he swear he loves.

  DON PEDRO Nay pray thee, come;

  Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,

  Do it in notes.

  BALTHASAR Note this before my notes:

  There’s not a note of mine that’s worth the noting.

  DON PEDRO

  Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks—

  Note notes, forsooth, and nothing!

  The accompaniment begins

  BENEDICK Now, divine air! Now is his soul ravished. Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all’s done.

  BALTHASAR (sings)

  Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.

  Men were deceivers ever,

  One foot in sea, and one on shore,

  To one thing constant never.

  Then sigh not so, but let them go,

  And be you blithe and bonny,

  Converting all your sounds of woe

  Into hey nonny, nonny.

  Sing no more ditties, sing no more

  Of dumps so dull and heavy.

  The fraud of men was ever so

  Since summer first was leafy.

  Then sigh not so, but let them go,

  And be you blithe and bonny,

  Converting all your sounds of woe

  Into hey nonny, nonny.

  DON PEDRO By my troth, a good song.

  BALTHASAR And an ill singer, my lord.

  DON PEDRO Ha, no, no, faith. Thou singest well enough for a shift.

  BENEDICK (aside) An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hanged him; and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it.

  DON PEDRO Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee get us some excellent music, for tomorrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero’s chamber window.

  BALTHASAR The best I can, my lord.

  Exit

  DON PEDRO Do so. Farewell. Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick?

  C
LAUDIO (aside) O, ay, stalk on, stalk on. The fowl sits.—I did never think that lady would have loved any man.

  LEONATO No, nor I neither. But most wonderful that she should so dote on Signor Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.

  BENEDICK (aside) Is’t possible? Sits the wind in that corner?

  LEONATO By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it. But that she loves him with an enraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought.

  DON PEDRO Maybe she doth but counterfeit.

  CLAUDIO Faith, like enough.

  LEONATO O God! Counterfeit? There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it.

  DON PEDRO Why, what effects of passion shows she?

  CLAUDIO (aside) Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.

  LEONATO What effects, my lord? She will sit you—you heard my daughter tell you how.

  CLAUDIO She did indeed.

  DON PEDRO How, how, I pray you? You amaze me. I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.

  LEONATO I would have sworn it had, my lord, especially against Benedick.

  BENEDICK (aside) I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it. Knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

  CLAUDIO (aside) He hath ta’en th’infection. Hold it up.

  DON PEDRO Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?

  LEONATO No, and swears she never will. That’s her torment.

  CLAUDIO ‘Tis true, indeed, so your daughter says. ‘Shall I,’ says she, ‘that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?’

  LEONATO This says she now when she is beginning to write to him, for she’ll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper. My daughter tells us all.

  CLAUDIO Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.

  LEONATO O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet.

  CLAUDIO That.

  LEONATO O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, railed at herself that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. ‘I measure him,’ says she, ‘by my own spirit, for I should flout him if he writ to me, yea, though I love him I should.’

  CLAUDIO Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses, ‘O sweet Benedick, God give me patience.’

  LEONATO She doth indeed, my daughter says so, and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard she will do a desperate outrage to herself. It is very true.

  DON PEDRO It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it.

  CLAUDIO To what end? He would make but a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse.

  DON PEDRO An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She’s an excellent sweet lady, and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous.

  CLAUDIO And she is exceeding wise.

  DON PEDRO In everything but in loving Benedick.

  LEONATO O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian.

  DON PEDRO I would she had bestowed this dotage on me. I would have doffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you tell Benedick of it, and hear what a will say.

  LEONATO Were it good, think you?

  CLAUDIO Hero thinks surely she will die, for she says she will die if he love her not, and she will die ere she make her love known, and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed crossness.

  DON PEDRO She doth well. If she should make tender of her love ’tis very possible he’ll scorn it, for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.

  CLAUDIO He is a very proper man.

  DON PEDRO He hath indeed a good outward happiness.

  CLAUDIO Before God; and in my mind, very wise.

  DON PEDRO He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.

  CLAUDIO And I take him to be valiant.

  DON PEDRO As Hector, I assure you; and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise, for either he avoids them with great discretion or undertakes them with a most Christianlike fear.

  LEONATO If he do fear God, a must necessarily keep peace. If he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling.

  DON PEDRO And so will he do, for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for your niece. Shall we go seek Benedick and tell him of her love?

  CLAUDIO Never tell him, my lord. Let her wear it out with good counsel.

  LEONATO Nay, that’s impossible. She may wear her heart out first.

  DON PEDRO Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter. Let it cool the while. I love Benedick well, and I could wish he would modestly examine himself to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady.

  LEONATO My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready.

  CLAUDIO (aside) If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation.

  DON PEDRO (aside) Let there be the same net spread for her, and that must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport will be when they hold one an opinion of another’s dotage, and no such matter. That’s the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato

  BENEDICK (coming forward) This can be no trick. The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady. It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say I will bear myself proudly if I perceive the love come from her. They say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair. ’Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous—’tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit—nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I have railed so long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No. The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice.Enter Beatrice

  By this day, she’s a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.

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

  BENEDICK Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

  BEATRICE I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful I would not have come.

  BENEDICK You take pleasure, then, in the message?

  BEATRICE Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife’s point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signor? Fare you well. Exit

  BENEDICK Ha! ‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.’ There’s a double meaning in that. ‘I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.’ That’s as much as to say ‘Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks.’—If I do not take pity of her I am a villain. If I do not love her I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit

  3.1 Enter Hero and two gentlewomen, Margaret and Ursula

  HERO

  Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour.

  There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice

  Proposing with the Prince and Claudio.

  Whisper her ear, and tell her I and Ursula

  Walk in the orchard, and o
ur whole discourse

  Is all of her. Say that thou overheard’st us,

  And bid her steal into the pleachèd bower

  Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun,

  Forbid the sun to enter—like favourites

  Made proud by princes, that advance their pride

  Against that power that bred it. There will she hide her

  To listen our propose. This is thy office.

  Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

  MARGARET

  I’ll make her come, I warrant you, presently.

  Exit

  HERO

  Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,

  As we do trace this alley up and down

  Our talk must only be of Benedick.

  When I do name him, let it be thy part

  To praise him more than ever man did merit.

  My talk to thee must be how Benedick

  Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter

  Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made,

  That only wounds by hearsay.Enter Beatrice Now begin,

  For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs

  Close by the ground to hear our conference.

  URSULA

  The pleasant’st angling is to see the fish

  Cut with her golden oars the silver stream

  And greedily devour the treacherous bait.

  So angle we for Beatrice, who even now

  Is couched in the woodbine coverture.

  Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

  HERO

  Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing

  Of the false-sweet bait that we lay for it.—

  They approach Beatrice’s hiding-place

  No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful.

  I know her spirits are as coy and wild

  As haggards of the rock.

  URSULA

  But are you sure

  That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?

  HERO

  So says the Prince and my new trothèd lord.