3.2 Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK and LEONATO.

DON PEDRO     I do but stay till your marriage be con-
summate, and then go I toward Aragon.
CLAUDIO     I’ll bring you thither, my lord, if you’ll vouchsafe me.
DON PEDRO     Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new	5
gloss of your marriage as to show a child his new
coat and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold
with Benedick for his company, for from the crown
of his head to the sole of his foot he is all mirth. He
hath twice or thrice cut Cupid’s bow-string, and the	10
little hangman dare not shoot at him. He hath a
heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper;
for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.
BENEDICK     Gallants, I am not as I have been.
LEONATO     So say I; methinks you are sadder.	15
CLAUDIO     I hope he be in love.
DON PEDRO     Hang him, truant! There’s no true drop of
blood in him to be truly touched with love. If he be
sad, he wants money.
BENEDICK     I have the toothache.	20
DON PEDRO     Draw it.
BENEDICK     Hang it!
CLAUDIO     You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
DON PEDRO     What? Sigh for the toothache?
LEONATO     Where is but a humour or a worm.	25
BENEDICK     Well, every one can master a grief but he that
has it.
CLAUDIO     Yet say I, he is in love.
DON PEDRO     There is no appearance of fancy in him,
unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises –	30
as to be a Dutchman today, a Frenchman tomorrow, or
in the shape of two countries at once, as a German
from the waist downward, all slops, and a Spaniard
from the hip upward, no doublet. Unless he have a
fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool	35
for fancy, as you would have it appear he is.
CLAUDIO     If he be not in love with some woman, there is
no believing old signs; a brushes his hat o’ mornings,
what should that bode?
DON PEDRO     Hath any man seen him at the barber’s?	40
CLAUDIO     No, but the barber’s man hath been seen with
him, and the old ornament of his cheek hath already
stuffed tennis-balls.
LEONATO     Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the
loss of a beard.	45
DON PEDRO     Nay, a rubs himself with civet; can you
smell him out by that?
CLAUDIO     That’s as much as to say the sweet youth’s in
love.
DON PEDRO     The greatest note of it is his melancholy.	50
CLAUDIO     And when was he wont to wash his face?
DON PEDRO     Yea, or to paint himself? For the which I
hear what they say of him.
CLAUDIO     Nay, but his jesting spirit, which is now crept
into a lute-string, and now governed by stops.	55
DON PEDRO     Indeed that tells a heavy tale for him:
conclude, conclude he is in love.
CLAUDIO     Nay, but I know who loves him.
DON PEDRO     That would I know too: I warrant, one that
knows him not.	60
CLAUDIO     Yes, and his ill conditions, and in despite of
all, dies for him.
DON PEDRO     She shall be buried with her face upwards.
BENEDICK     Yet is this no charm for the toothache. Old
signior, walk aside with me; I have studied eight or	65
nine wise words to speak to you, which these hobby-
horses must not hear.     Exeunt Benedick and Leonato.
DON PEDRO     For my life, to break with him about
Beatrice.
CLAUDIO     ’Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this	70
played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two
bears will not bite one another when they meet.
Enter DON JOHN the Bastard.
DON JOHN     My lord and brother, God save you!
DON PEDRO     Good den, brother.
DON JOHN     If your leisure served, I would speak with you.	75
DON PEDRO     In private?
DON JOHN     If it please you; yet Count Claudio may hear,
for what I would speak of concerns him.
DON PEDRO     What’s the matter?
DON JOHN [to Claudio] Means your lordship to be	80
married tomorrow?
DON PEDRO     You know he does.
DON JOHN     I know not that, when he knows what I know.
CLAUDIO     If there be any impediment, I pray you
discover it.	85
DON JOHN     You may think I love you not: let that appear
hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will
manifest. For my brother, I think he holds you well,
and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your
ensuing marriage – surely suit ill spent, and labour ill	90
bestowed.
DON PEDRO     Why, what’s the matter?
DON JOHN     I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances
shortened – for she has been too long a-talking of – the
lady is disloyal.	95
CLAUDIO     Who, Hero?
DON JOHN     Even she – Leonato’s Hero, your Hero, every
man’s Hero.
CLAUDIO     Disloyal?
DON JOHN     The word is too good to paint out her	100
wickedness. I could say she were worse; think you of a
worse title and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till
further warrant: go but with me tonight, you shall
see her chamber-window entered, even the night
before her wedding-day. If you love her then,	105
tomorrow wed her; but it would better fit your
honour to change your mind.
CLAUDIO     May this be so?
DON PEDRO     I will not think it.
DON JOHN     If you dare not trust that you see, confess not	110
that you know. If you will follow me, I will show you
enough; and when you have seen more, and heard
more, proceed accordingly.
CLAUDIO     If I see anything tonight why I should not
marry her tomorrow, in the congregation, where I	115
should wed, there will I shame her.
DON PEDRO     And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will
join with thee to disgrace her.
DON JOHN     I will disparage her no farther till you are my
witnesses. Bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the	120
issue show itself.
DON PEDRO     O day untowardly turned!
CLAUDIO     O mischief strangely thwarting!
DON JOHN     O plague right well prevented! So will you
say when you have seen the sequel.     Exeunt.	125

3.3 Enter DOGBERRY and his compartner VERGES, with the Watch.

DOGBERRY     Are you good men and true?
VERGES     Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer
salvation, body and soul.
DOGBERRY     Nay, that were a punishment too good for
them, if they should have any allegiance in them,	5
being chosen for the Prince’s watch.
VERGES     Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
DOGBERRY     First, who think you the most desartless
man to be constable?	10
1WATCHMAN Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal, for
they can write and read.
DOGBERRY     Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. God hath
blest you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man
is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by	15
nature.
2 WATCHMAN Both which, Master Constable –
DOGBERRY     You have: I knew it would be your answer.
Well, for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and
make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading,	20
let that appear when there is no need of such vanity.
You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit
man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you
the lantern. This is your charge: you shall
comprehend all vagrom men; you are to bid any man	25
stand, in the Prince’s name.
2 WATCHMAN     How if a will not stand?
DOGBERRY     Why then, take no note of him, but let him
go, and presently call the rest of the watch together,
and thank God you are rid of a knave.	30
VERGES     If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is
none of the Prince’s subjects.
DOGBERRY     True, and they are to meddle with none but
the Prince’s subjects. You shall also make no noise in
the streets: for, for the watch to babble and to talk is	35
most tolerable, and not to be endured.
A WATCHMAN     We will rather sleep than talk; we know
what belongs to a watch.
DOGBERRY     Why, you speak like an ancient and most
quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should	40
offend: only have a care that your bills be not stolen.
Well, you are to call at all the ale-houses, and bid those
that are drunk get them to bed.
A WATCHMAN     How if they will not?
DOGBERRY     Why then, let them alone till they are sober:	45
if they make you not then the better answer, you may
say they are not the men you took them for.
A WATCHMAN     Well, sir.
DOGBERRY     If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by
virtue of your office, to be no true man; and for such	50
kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them,
why, the more is for your honesty.
A WATCHMAN     If we know him to be a thief, shall we not
lay hands on him?
DOGBERRY     Truly, by your office you may, but I think they	55
that touch pitch will be defiled. The most peaceable
way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him show
himself what he is, and steal out of your company.
VERGES     You have been always called a merciful man,
partner.	60
DOGBERRY     Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will,
much more a man who hath any honesty in him.
VERGES     If you hear a child cry in the night, you must
call to the nurse and bid her still it.
A WATCHMAN     How if the nurse be asleep and will not	65
hear us?
DOGBERRY     Why then, depart in peace, and let the child
wake her with crying, for the ewe that will not hear her
lamb when it baas will never answer a calf when he bleats.
VERGES     ’Tis very true.	70
DOGBERRY     This is the end of the charge: you, constable,
are to present the Prince’s own person; if you meet the
Prince in the night, you may stay him.
VERGES     Nay, by’r lady, that I think a cannot.
DOGBERRY     Five shillings to one on’t, with any man that	75
knows the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not
without the Prince be willing, for indeed the watch
ought to offend no man, and it is an offence to stay a
man against his will.
VERGES     By’r lady, I think it be so.	80
DOGBERRY     Ha, ah ha! Well, masters, good night: and
there be any matter of weight chances, call up me:
keep your fellows’ counsels and your own, and good
night. Come, neighbour.
2 WATCHMAN     Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us	85
go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then
all to bed.
DOGBERRY     One word more, honest neighbours. I pray
you watch about Signior Leonato’s door, for the
wedding being there tomorrow, there is a great coil	90
tonight. Adieu! Be vigitant, I beseech you.
Exeunt Dogberry and Verges.
Enter BORACHIO and CONRADE.
BORACHIO     What, Conrade!
2 WATCHMAN [aside] Peace! Stir not.
BORACHIO     Conrade, I say!
CONRADE     Here, man, I am at thy elbow.	95
BORACHIO     Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought there
would a scab follow.
CONRADE     I will owe thee an answer for that: and now
forward with thy tale.
BORACHIO     Stand thee close then under this penthouse,	100
for it drizzles rain, and I will, like a true drunkard,
utter all to thee.
2 WATCHMAN [aside] Some treason, masters; yet stand
close.
BORACHIO     Therefore know, I have earned of Don John	105
a thousand ducats.
CONRADE     Is it possible that any villainy should be so
dear?
BORACHIO     Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible
any villainy should be so rich; for when rich villains	110
have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what
price they will.
CONRADE     I wonder at it.
BORACHIO     That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou
knowest that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a	115
cloak, is nothing to a man.
CONRADE     Yes, it is apparel.
BORACHIO     I mean, the fashion.
CONRADE     Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
BORACHIO     Tush! I may as well say the fool’s the fool. But	120
seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is?
2 WATCHMAN [aside] I know that Deformed; a has been
a vile thief this seven year; a goes up and down like a
gentleman: I remember his name.
BORACHIO     Didst thou not hear somebody?	125
CONRADE     No, ’twas the vane on the house.
BORACHIO     Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief
this fashion is, how giddily a turns about all the hot
bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty,
sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh’s soldiers in	130
the reechy painting, sometime like god Bel’s priests in
the old church-window, sometime like the shaven
Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry, where
his codpiece seems as massy as his club?
CONRADE     All this I see, and I see that the fashion wears	135
out more apparel than the man. But art not thou
thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast
shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
BORACHIO     Not so, neither; but know that I have tonight
wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero’s gentlewoman, by	140
the name of Hero; she leans me out at her mistress’
chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good
night – I tell this tale vilely – I should first tell thee
how the Prince, Claudio, and my master, planted and
placed and possessed by my master Don John, saw afar	145
off in the orchard this amiable encounter.
CONRADE     And thought they Margaret was Hero?
BORACHIO     Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio,
but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and
partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly	150
by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly
by my villainy, which did confirm any slander that
Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged;
swore he would meet her as he was appointed next
morning at the temple, and there, before the whole	155
congregation, shame her with what he saw o’ernight,
and send her home again without a husband.
2 WATCHMAN     We charge you in the Prince’s name,
stand!
1WATCHMAN     Call up the right Master Constable; we	160
have here recovered the most dangerous piece of
lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth.
2 WATCHMAN     And one Deformed is one of them; I
know him, a wears a lock.
CONRADE     Masters, masters –	165
1WATCHMAN     You’ll be made bring Deformed forth, I
warrant you.
CONRADE     Masters –
2 WATCHMAN     Never speak, we charge you, let us obey
you to go with us.	170
BORACHIO     We are like to prove a goodly commodity,
being taken up of these men’s bills.
CONRADE     A commodity in question, I warrant you.
Come, we’ll obey you.     Exeunt.

3.4 Enter HERO, MARGARET and URSULA.

HERO     Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and
desire her to rise.
URSULA     I will, lady.
HERO     And bid her come hither.
URSULA Well.     Exit.	5
MARGARET     Troth, I think your other rebato were better.
HERO     No, pray thee good Meg, I’ll wear this.
MARGARET     By my troth’s not so good, and I warrant
your cousin will say so.
HERO     My cousin’s a fool, and thou art another; I’ll wear	10
none but this.
MARGARET     I like the new tire within excellently, if the
hair were a thought browner; and your gown’s a most
rare fashion, i’faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan’s
gown that they praise so.	15
HERO     O, that exceeds, they say.
MARGARET     By my troth’s but a night-gown in respect
of yours – cloth o’ gold, and cuts, and laced with
silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves,
and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel: but	20
for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent fashion,
yours is worth ten on’t.
HERO     God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is
exceeding heavy.
MARGARET     ’Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a	25
man.
HERO     Fie upon thee, art not ashamed?
MARGARET     Of what, lady? Of speaking honourably? Is
not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord
honourable without marriage? I think you would	30
have me say, saving your reverence, ‘a husband’. And
bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I’ll offend
nobody. Is there any harm in ‘the heavier for a
husband’? None, I think, and it be the right
husband, and the right wife; otherwise ’tis light, and	35
not heavy. Ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.
Enter BEATRICE.
HERO     Good morrow, coz.
BEATRICE     Good morrow, sweet Hero.
HERO     Why, how now? Do you speak in the sick tune?
BEATRICE     I am out of all other tune, methinks.	40
MARGARET     Clap’s into ‘Light o’ Love’; that goes
without a burden. Do you sing it, and I’ll dance it.
BEATRICE     Ye light o’ love with your heels! Then, if your
husband have stables enough, you’ll see he shall lack
no barns.	45
MARGARET     O illegitimate construction! I scorn that
with my heels.
BEATRICE     ’Tis almost five o’clock, cousin, ’tis time you
were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill – heigh-ho!
MARGARET     For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?	50
BEATRICE     For the letter that begins them all, H.
MARGARET     Well, and you be not turned Turk, there’s
no more sailing by the star.
BEATRICE     What means the fool, trow?
MARGARET     Nothing I, but God send everyone their	55
heart’s desire!
HERO     These gloves the Count sent me, they are an
excellent perfume.
BEATRICE     I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell.
MARGARET     A maid, and stuffed! There’s goodly	60
catching of cold.
BEATRICE     O, God help me, God help me, how long have
you professed apprehension?
MARGARET     Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit
become me rarely?	65
BEATRICE     It is not seen enough, you should wear it in
your cap. By my troth, I am sick.
MARGARET     Get you some of this distilled carduus
benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing
for a qualm.	70
HERO     There thou prick’st her with a thistle.
BEATRICE     Benedictus! Why benedictus? You have some
moral in this benedictus.
MARGARET     Moral? No, by my troth I have no moral
meaning, I meant plain holy-thistle. You may think	75
perchance that I think you are in love, nay by’r lady I
am not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list not to
think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think, if I would
think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love, or
that you will be in love, or that you can be in love. Yet	80
BENEDICK     was such another and now is he become a
man: he swore he would never marry, and yet now in
despite of his heart he eats his meat without grudging:
and how you may be converted I know not, but
methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.	85
BEATRICE     What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
MARGARET     Not a false gallop.
Enter URSULA.
URSULA     Madam, withdraw! The Prince, the Count,
Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the
town are come to fetch you to church.	90
HERO     Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good
Ursula.     Exeunt.

3.5 Enter LEONATO and the constable DOGBERRY and the headborough VERGES.

LEONATO     What would you with me, honest neighbour?
DOGBERRY     Marry, sir, I would have some confidence
with you, that decerns you nearly.
LEONATO     Brief, I pray you, for you see it is a busy time
with me.	5
DOGBERRY     Marry, this it is, sir.
VERGES     Yes, in truth it is, sir.
LEONATO     What is it, my good friends?
DOGBERRY     Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the
matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt as,	10
God help, I would desire they were, but, in faith,
honest as the skin between his brows.
VERGES     Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any man
living, that is an old man, and no honester than I.
DOGBERRY     Comparisons are odorous: palabras, neighbour Verges.	15
LEONATO     Neighbours, you are tedious.
DOGBERRY     It pleases your worship to say so, but we are
the poor Duke’s officers; but truly, for mine own part,
if I were as tedious as a king, I could find in my heart	20
to bestow it all of your worship.
LEONATO     All thy tediousness on me, ah?
DOGBERRY     Yea, and ’twere a thousand pound more than
’tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your worship as
of any man in the city, and though I be but a poor man,	25
I am glad to hear it.
VERGES     And so am I.
LEONATO     I would fain know what you have to say.
VERGES     Marry, sir, our watch tonight, excepting your
worship’s presence, ha’ ta’en a couple of as arrant	30
knaves as any in Messina.
DOGBERRY     A good old man, sir, he will be talking; as
they say, ‘When the age is in, the wit is out’, God help
us, it is a world to see! Well said, i’faith, neighbour
Verges; well, God’s a good man, and two men ride of	35
a horse, one must ride behind. An honest soul, i’faith,
sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread; but God is
to be worshipped, all men are not alike, alas, good
neighbour!
LEONATO     Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you.	40
DOGBERRY     Gifts that God gives.
LEONATO     I must leave you.
DOGBERRY     One word, sir: our watch, sir, have indeed
comprehended two aspicious persons, and we would
have them this morning examined before your worship.	45
LEONATO     Take their examination yourself, and bring it
me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you.
DOGBERRY     It shall be suffigance.
LEONATO     Drink some wine ere you go. Fare you well!
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER     My lord, they stay for you to give your	50
daughter to her husband.
LEONATO     I’ll wait upon them; I am ready.
Exit with Messenger.
DOGBERRY     Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis
Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the
gaol: we are now to examination these men.	55
VERGES     And we must do it wisely.
DOGBERRY     We will spare for no wit, I warrant you;
here’s that shall drive some of them to a non-come.
Only get the learned writer to set down our excom-
munication, and meet me at the gaol.     Exeunt.	60

4.1 Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN the Bastard, LEONATO, FRIAR FRANCIS, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, HERO BEATRICE and attendants.

LEONATO     Come, Friar Francis, be brief: only to the
plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their
particular duties afterwards.
FRIAR     You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?
CLAUDIO     No.	5
LEONATO     To be married to her, friar: you come to
marry her.
FRIAR     Lady, you come hither to be married to this Count?
HERO     I do.
FRIAR     If either of you know any inward impediment	10
why you should not be conjoined, I charge you on
your souls to utter it.
CLAUDIO     Know you any, Hero?
HERO     None, my lord.
FRIAR     Know you any, Count?	15
LEONATO     I dare make his answer, None.
CLAUDIO     O, what men dare do! What men may do!
What men daily do, not knowing what they do!
BENEDICK     How now? Interjections? Why then, some be
of laughing, as ah, ha, he!	20
CLAUDIO     Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave:
Will you with free and unconstrained soul
Give me this maid, your daughter?
LEONATO     As freely, son, as God did give her me.
CLAUDIO     And what have I to give you back whose worth	25
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
DON PEDRO     Nothing, unless you render her again.
CLAUDIO
Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
There, Leonato, take her back again.
Give not this rotten orange to your friend;	30
She’s but the sign and semblance of her honour.
Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Comes not that blood as modest evidence	35
To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear,
All you that see her, that she were a maid,
By these exterior shows? But she is none:
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed:
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.	40
LEONATO     What do you mean, my lord?
CLAUDIO     Not to be married, not to knit my soul
To an approved wanton.
LEONATO     Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
Have vanquish’d the resistance of her youth,	45
And made defeat of her virginity –
CLAUDIO
I know what you would say: if I have known her,
You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the ’forehand sin.
No, Leonato.	50
I never tempted her with word too large,
But, as a brother to his sister, show’d
Bashful sincerity and comely love.
HERO     And seem’d I ever otherwise to you?
CLAUDIO     Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it.	55
You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper’d animals
That rage in savage sensuality.	60
HERO     Is my lord well that he doth speak so wide?
LEONATO     Sweet Prince, why speak not you?
DON PEDRO     What should I speak?
I stand dishonour’d, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common stale.
LEONATO     Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?	65
DON JOHN
Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
BENEDICK     This looks not like a nuptial!
HERO     ‘True’? O God!
CLAUDIO     Leonato, stand I here?
Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince’s brother?
Is this face Hero’s? Are our eyes our own?	70
LEONATO     All this is so, but what of this, my lord?
CLAUDIO
Let me but move one question to your daughter,
And by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
LEONATO     I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.	75
HERO     O God defend me, how am I beset!
What kind of catechizing call you this?
CLAUDIO     To make you answer truly to your name.
HERO     Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
With any just reproach?
CLAUDIO     Marry, that can Hero;	80
HERO     itself can blot out Hero’s virtue.
What man was he talk’d with you yesternight,
Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
Now if you are a maid, answer to this.
HERO     I talk’d with no man at that hour, my lord.	85
DON PEDRO     Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour,
Myself, my brother, and this grieved Count
Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night,
Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window,	90
Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess’d the vile encounters they have had
A thousand times in secret.
DON JOHN     Fie, fie, they are not to be nam’d, my lord,
Not to be spoke of!	95
There is not chastity enough in language
Without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady,
I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
CLAUDIO     O Hero! What a Hero hadst thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been plac’d	100
About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! Farewell,
Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
For thee I’ll lock up all the gates of love,
And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang,	105
To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
And never shall it more be gracious.
LEONATO     Hath no man’s dagger here a point for me?
[Hero swoons.]
BEATRICE
Why, how now, cousin! Wherefore sink you down?
DON JOHN
Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light,	110
Smother her spirits up.
Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John and Claudio.
BENEDICK     How doth the lady?
BEATRICE     Dead, I think. Help, uncle!
HERO     ! Why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar!
LEONATO     O Fate, take not away thy heavy hand!
Death is the fairest cover for her shame	115
That may be wish’d for.
BEATRICE     How now, cousin Hero?
FRIAR     Have comfort, lady.
LEONATO     Dost thou look up?
FRIAR     Yea, wherefore should she not?
LEONATO
Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing
Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny	120
The story that is printed in her blood?
Do not live, Hero, do not ope thine eyes;
For did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
Myself would on the rearward of reproaches	125
Strike at thy life. Griev’d I, I had but one?
Chid I for that at frugal Nature’s frame?
O, one too much by thee! Why had I one?
Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes?
Why had I not with charitable hand	130
Took up a beggar’s issue at my gates,
Who smirched thus, and mir’d with infamy,
I might have said, ‘No part of it is mine;
This shame derives itself from unknown loins’?
But mine, and mine I lov’d, and mine I prais’d,	135
And mine that I was proud on – mine so much
That I myself was to myself not mine,
Valuing of her – why, she, O, she is fall’n
Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again,	140
And salt too little which may season give
To her foul-tainted flesh!
BENEDICK     Sir, sir, be patient.
For my part I am so attir’d in wonder,
I know not what to say.
BEATRICE     O, on my soul my cousin is belied!	145
BENEDICK     Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
BEATRICE     No, truly, not; although until last night,
I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
LEONATO
Confirm’d, confirm’d! O, that is stronger made
Which was before barr’d up with ribs of iron.	150
Would the two princes lie, and Claudio lie,
Who lov’d her so, that, speaking of her foulness,
Wash’d it with tears? Hence from her, let her die!
FRIAR     Hear me a little;
For I have only been silent so long,	155
And given way unto this course of fortune,
By noting of the lady. I have mark’d
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,	160
And in her eye there hath appear’d a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
Trust not my reading nor my observations,
Which with experimental seal doth warrant	165
The tenor of my book; trust not my age,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here
Under some biting error.
LEONATO     Friar, it cannot be.
Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left	170
Is that she will not add to her damnation
A sin of perjury: she not denies it.
Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse
That which appears in proper nakedness?
FRIAR     Lady, what man is he you are accus’d of?	175
HERO     They know that do accuse me; I know none.
If I know more of any man alive
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,
Prove you that any man with me convers’d	180
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintain’d the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!
FRIAR
There is some strange misprision in the princes.
BENEDICK     Two of them have the very bent of honour;	185
And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
The practice of it lives in John the bastard,
Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies.
LEONATO     I know not. If they speak but truth of her,
These hands shall tear her: if they wrong her honour,	190
The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
Nor age so eat up my invention,
Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,	195
But they shall find, awak’d in such a kind,
Both strength of limb and policy of mind,
Ability in means and choice of friends,
To quit me of them throughly.
FRIAR     Pause awhile,
And let my counsel sway you in this case.	200
Your daughter here the princes left for dead,
Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
And publish it that she is dead indeed;
Maintain a mourning ostentation,
And on your family’s old monument	205
Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
That appertain unto a burial.
LEONATO
What shall become of this? What will this do?
FRIAR     Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf
Change slander to remorse; that is some good:	210
But not for that dream I on this strange course,
But on this travail look for greater birth.
She dying, as it must be so maintain’d,
Upon the instant that she was accus’d,
Shall be lamented, pitied, and excus’d	215
Of every hearer; for it so falls out
That what we have we prize not to the worth
Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack’d and lost,
Why then we rack the value, then we find
The virtue that possession would not show us	220
Whiles it was ours: so will it fare with Claudio.
When he shall hear she died upon his words,
Th’idea of her life shall sweetly creep
Into his study of imagination,
And every lovely organ of her life	225
Shall come apparell’d in more precious habit,
More moving-delicate and full of life,
Into the eye and prospect of his soul
Than when she liv’d indeed: then shall he mourn –
If ever love had interest in his liver –	230
And wish he had not so accused her:
No, though he thought his accusation true.
Let this be so, and doubt not but success
Will fashion the event in better shape
Than I can lay it down in likelihood.	235
But if all aim but this be levell’d false,
The supposition of the lady’s death
Will quench the wonder of her infamy:
And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,
As best befits her wounded reputation.	240
In some reclusive and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
BENEDICK     Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you;
And though you know my inwardness and love
Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio,	245
Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
As secretly and justly as your soul
Should with your body.
LEONATO     Being that I flow in grief,
The smallest twine may lead me.
FRIAR     ’Tis well consented. Presently away;	250
For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.
Come, lady, die to live; this wedding-day
Perhaps is but prolong’d; have patience and endure.
Exeunt all but Benedick and Beatrice.
BENEDICK     Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
BEATRICE     Yea, and I will weep a while longer.	255
BENEDICK     I will not desire that.
BEATRICE     You have no reason, I do it freely.
BENEDICK     Surely I do believe your fair cousin is
wronged.
BEATRICE     Ah, how much might the man deserve of me	260
that would right her!
BENEDICK     Is there any way to show such friendship?
BEATRICE     A very even way, but no such friend.
BENEDICK     May a man do it?
BEATRICE     It is a man’s office, but not yours.	265
BENEDICK     I do love nothing in the world so well as you
– is not that strange?
BEATRICE     As strange as the thing I know not. It were as
possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you,
but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing,	270
nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
BENEDICK     By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
BEATRICE     Do not swear and eat it.
BENEDICK     I will swear by it that you love me, and I will
make him eat it that says I love not you.	275
BEATRICE     Will you not eat your word?
BENEDICK     With no sauce that can be devised to it. I
protest I love thee.
BEATRICE     Why then, God forgive me!
BENEDICK     What offence, sweet Beatrice?	280
BEATRICE     You have stayed me in a happy hour, I was
about to protest I loved you.
BENEDICK     And do it with all thy heart.
BEATRICE     I love you with so much of my heart that none
is left to protest.	285
BENEDICK     Come, bid me do anything for thee.
BEATRICE     Kill Claudio!
BENEDICK     Ha, not for the wide world!
BEATRICE     You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
BENEDICK     Tarry, sweet Beatrice.	290
BEATRICE     I am gone, though I am here; there is no love
in you; nay I pray you let me go.
BENEDICK     Beatrice –
BEATRICE     In faith, I will go.
BENEDICK     We’ll be friends first.	295
BEATRICE     You dare easier be friends with me than fight
with mine enemy.
BENEDICK     Is Claudio thine enemy?
BEATRICE     Is a not approved in the height a villain, that
hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?	300
O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until
they come to take hands, and then with public
accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour
– O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the
market-place.	305
BENEDICK     Hear me, Beatrice –
BEATRICE     Talk with a man out at a window! A proper
saying!
BENEDICK     Nay, but Beatrice –
BEATRICE     Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is	310
slandered, she is undone.
BENEDICK     Beat –
BEATRICE     Princes and counties! Surely a princely
testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect, a sweet
gallant surely! O that I were a man for his sake, or that	315
I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But
manhood is melted into curtsies, valour into
compliment, and men are only turned into tongue,
and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules that
only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with	320
wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.
BENEDICK     Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand I love
thee.
BEATRICE     Use it for my love some other way than
swearing by it.	325
BENEDICK     Think you in your soul the Count Claudio
hath wronged Hero?
BEATRICE     Yea, as sure as I have a thought, or a soul.
BENEDICK     Enough! I am engaged, I will challenge him.
I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand,	330
CLAUDIO     shall render me a dear account. As you hear of
me, so think of me. Go comfort your cousin; I must
say she is dead: and so farewell.     Exeunt.

4.2 Enter the constables, DOGBERRY and VERGES, and the SEXTON as town clerk in gowns, BORACHIO, CONRADE and the WATCH.

DOGBERRY     Is our whole dissembly appeared?
VERGES     O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton.
SEXTON     Which be the malefactors?
DOGBERRY     Marry, that am I and my partner.
VERGES     Nay, that’s certain, we have the exhibition to	5
examine.
SEXTON     But which are the offenders that are to be
examined? Let them come before Master Constable.
DOGBERRY     Yea, marry, let them come before me. What
is your name, friend?	10
BORACHIO     Borachio.
DOGBERRY     Pray write down ‘Borachio’. Yours, sirrah?
CONRADE     I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.
DOGBERRY     Write down ‘Master gentleman Conrade’.	15
Masters, do you serve God?
CONRADE, BORACHIO     Yea, sir, we hope.
DOGBERRY     Write down that they hope they serve God:
and write ‘God’ first, for God defend but God should
go before such villains! Masters, it is proved already	20
that you are little better than false knaves, and it will
go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for
yourselves?
CONRADE     Marry, sir, we say we are none.
DOGBERRY     A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you, but	25
I will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah, a
word in your ear, sir; I say to you, it is thought you are
false knaves.
BORACHIO     Sir, I say to you we are none.
DOGBERRY     Well, stand aside. ’Fore God, they are both	30
in a tale. Have you writ down that they are none?
SEXTON     Master Constable, you go not the way to
examine; you must call forth the watch that are their
accusers.
DOGBERRY     Yea, marry, that’s the eftest way. Let the	35
watch come forth. Masters, I charge you in the
Prince’s name, accuse these men.
1 WATCHMAN     This man said, sir, that Don John the
Prince’s brother was a villain.
DOGBERRY     Write down ‘Prince John a villain’. Why, this	40
is flat perjury, to call a prince’s brother villain.
BORACHIO     Master Constable –
DOGBERRY     Pray thee, fellow, peace, I do not like thy
look, I promise thee.
SEXTON     What heard you him say else?	45
2 WATCHMAN     Marry, that he had received a thousand
ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero
wrongfully.
DOGBERRY     Flat burglary as ever was committed.
VERGES     Yea, by mass, that it is.	50
SEXTON     What else, fellow?
1 WATCHMAN     And that Count Claudio did mean, upon
his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole
assembly, and not marry her.
DOGBERRY     O villain! Thou wilt be condemned into	55
everlasting redemption for this.
SEXTON     What else?
A WATCHMAN     This is all.
SEXTON     And this is more, masters, than you can deny.
Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away:	60
Hero was in this manner accused, in this very
manner refused, and upon the grief of this suddenly
died. Master Constable, let these men be bound and
brought to Leonato’s; I will go before and show him
their examination.     Exit.	65
DOGBERRY     Come, let them be opinioned.
VERGES     Let them be in the hands –
CONRADE     Off, coxcomb!
DOGBERRY     God’s my life, where’s the sexton? Let him
write down ‘the Prince’s officer coxcomb’. Come, bind	70
them. Thou naughty varlet!
CONRADE     Away! You are an ass, you are an ass.
DOGBERRY     Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou
not suspect my years? O that he were here to write me
down an ass! But masters, remember that I am an	75
ass: though it be not written down, yet forget not
that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety,
as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. I am a
wise fellow, and which is more, an officer, and which is
more, a householder, and which is more, as pretty a	80
piece of flesh as any is in Messina, and one that knows
the law, go to, and a rich fellow enough, go to, and a
fellow that hath had losses, and one that hath two
gowns, and everything handsome about him. Bring
him away! O that I had been writ down an ass!	85
Exeunt.

5.1 Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO.

ANTONIO     If you go on thus, you will kill yourself,
And ’tis not wisdom thus to second grief
Against yourself.
LEONATO     I pray thee cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve. Give not me counsel,	5
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father that so lov’d his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm’d like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;	10
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for strain,
As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape, and form.
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,	15
Bid sorrow wag, cry ‘Hem!’ when he should groan,
Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
With candle-wasters, bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.
But there is no such man: for, brother, men	20
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,	25
Charm ache with air, and agony with words.
No, no, ’tis all men’s office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
But no man’s virtue nor sufficiency
To be so moral when he shall endure	30
The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
ANTONIO
Therein do men from children nothing differ.
LEONATO     I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and blood;
For there was never yet philosopher	35
That could endure the toothache patiently,
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a push at chance and sufferance.
ANTONIO Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself;
Make those that do offend you suffer too.	40
LEONATO     There thou speak’st reason: nay, I will do so.
My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;
And that shall Claudio know, so shall the Prince,
And all of them that thus dishonour her.
Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO.
ANTONIO     Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.	45
DON PEDRO     Good den, good den.
CLAUDIO     Good day to both of you.
LEONATO     Hear you, my lords –
DON PEDRO     We have some haste, Leonato.
LEONATO
Some haste, my lord? Well, fare you well, my lord!
Are you so hasty now? Well, all is one.
DON PEDRO
Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.	50
ANTONIO     If he could right himself with quarrelling,
Some of us would lie low.
CLAUDIO     Who wrongs him?
LEONATO
Marry, thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou!
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword,
I fear thee not.
CLAUDIO     Marry, beshrew my hand	55
If it should give your age such cause of fear.
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
LEONATO     Tush, tush, man, never fleer and jest at me!
I speak not like a dotard nor a fool,
As under privilege of age to brag	60
What I have done being young, or what would do
Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head,
Thou hast so wrong’d mine innocent child and me,
That I am forc’d to lay my reverence by,
And with grey hairs and bruise of many days	65
Do challenge thee to trial of a man.
I say thou hast belied mine innocent child;
Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
And she lies buried with her ancestors –
O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,	70
Save this of hers, fram’d by thy villainy!
CLAUDIO     My villainy?
LEONATO     Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.
DON PEDRO     You say not right, old man.
LEONATO     My lord, my lord,
I’ll prove it on his body if he dare,
Despite his nice fence and his active practice,	75
His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.
CLAUDIO     Away! I will not have to do with you.
LEONATO
Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill’d my child;
If thou kill’st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
ANTONIO He shall kill two of us, and men indeed:	80
But that’s no matter, let him kill one first.
Win me and wear me, let him answer me.
Come follow me, boy, come, sir boy, come follow me,
Sir boy, I’ll whip you from your foining fence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.	85
LEONATO     Brother –
ANTONIO
Content yourself. God knows I lov’d my niece,
And she is dead, slander’d to death by villains,
That dare as well answer a man indeed
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.	90
Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!
LEONATO     Brother Antony –
ANTONIO
Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,
Scambling, outfacing, fashion-monging boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander,	95
Go anticly, and show outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dang’rous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.
LEONATO     But brother Antony –
ANTONIO Come, ’tis no matter;	100
Do not you meddle, let me deal in this.
DON PEDRO
Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience.
My heart is sorry for your daughter’s death;
But on my honour she was charg’d with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.	105
LEONATO     My lord, my lord –
DON PEDRO     I will not hear you.
LEONATO     No? Come, brother, away! I will be heard.
ANTONIO     And shall, or some of us will smart for it.
Exeunt Leonato and Antonio.
Enter BENEDICK.
DON PEDRO     See, see! Here comes the man we went to seek.	110
CLAUDIO     Now, signior, what news?
BENEDICK     Good day, my lord.
DON PEDRO     Welcome, signior; you are almost come to
part almost a fray.	115
CLAUDIO     We had like to have had our two noses
snapped off with two old men without teeth.
DON PEDRO     Leonato and his brother. What think’st
thou? Had we fought, I doubt we should have been too
young for them.	120
BENEDICK     In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I
came to seek you both.
CLAUDIO     We have been up and down to seek thee, for
we are high-proof melancholy, and would fain have it
beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit?	125
BENEDICK     It is in my scabbard; shall I draw it?
DON PEDRO     Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?
CLAUDIO     Never any did so, though very many have
been beside their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the
minstrels – draw to pleasure us.	130
DON PEDRO     As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art
thou sick, or angry?
CLAUDIO     What, courage, man! What though care killed
a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.
BENEDICK     Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, and	135
you charge it against me. I pray you choose another
subject.
CLAUDIO     Nay then, give him another staff; this last was
broke cross.
DON PEDRO     By this light, he changes more and more; I	140
think he be angry indeed.
CLAUDIO     If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.
BENEDICK     Shall I speak a word in your ear?
CLAUDIO     God bless me from a challenge!
BENEDICK     [aside to Claudio] You are a villain. I jest not;	145
I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare,
and when you dare. Do me right, or I will protest
your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her
death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.
CLAUDIO     Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.	150
DON PEDRO     What, a feast, a feast?
CLAUDIO     I’faith I thank him, he hath bid me to a calf ’s
head and a capon, the which if I do not carve most
curiously, say my knife’s naught. Shall I not find a
woodcock too?	155
BENEDICK     Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
DON PEDRO     I’ll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit
the other day. I said thou hadst a fine wit. ‘True,’ said
she, ‘a fine little one.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘a great wit.’
‘Right,’ says she, ‘a great gross one.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘a	160
good wit.’ ‘Just,’ said she, ‘it hurts nobody.’ ‘Nay,’ said
I, ‘the gentleman is wise.’ ‘Certain,’ said she, ‘a wise
gentleman.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘he hath the tongues.’ ‘That
I believe,’ said she, ‘for he swore a thing to me on
Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday	165
morning; there’s a double tongue; there’s two
tongues.’ Thus did she an hour together transshape
thy particular virtues: yet at last she concluded with a
sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.
CLAUDIO     For the which she wept heartily and said she	170
cared not.
DON PEDRO     Yea, that she did; but yet for all that, and if
she did not hate him deadly, she would love him
dearly – the old man’s daughter told us all.
CLAUDIO     All, all; and moreover, God saw him when he	175
was hid in the garden.
DON PEDRO     But when shall we set the savage bull’s
horns on the sensible Benedick’s head?
CLAUDIO     Yea, and text underneath, ‘Here dwells
Benedick, the married man’?	180
BENEDICK     Fare you well, boy, you know my mind: I will
leave you now to your gossip-like humour. You break
jests as braggarts do their blades, which God be
thanked hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I
thank you: I must discontinue your company. Your	185
brother the bastard is fled from Messina. You have
among you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my
Lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet; and till
then, peace be with him.     Exit.
DON PEDRO     He is in earnest.	190
CLAUDIO     In most profound earnest, and, I’ll warrant
you, for the love of Beatrice.
DON PEDRO     And hath challenged thee.
CLAUDIO     Most sincerely.
DON PEDRO     What a pretty thing man is when he goes in	195
his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!
CLAUDIO     He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape
a doctor to such a man.
DON PEDRO     But, soft you, let me be: pluck up, my heart,
and be sad. Did he not say my brother was fled?	200
Enter constables DOGBERRY and VERGES, and the Watch, with CONRADE and BORACHIO.
DOGBERRY     Come you, sir, if justice cannot tame you she
shall ne’er weigh more reasons in her balance. Nay, and
you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to.
DON PEDRO     How now? Two of my brother’s men
bound? Borachio one?	205
CLAUDIO     Hearken after their offence, my lord.
DON PEDRO     Officers, what offence have these men done?
DOGBERRY     Marry, sir, they have committed false report,
moreover they have spoken untruths, secondarily they
are slanders, sixth and lastly they have belied a lady,	210
thirdly they have verified unjust things, and to
conclude, they are lying knaves.
DON PEDRO     First I ask thee what they have done,
thirdly I ask thee what’s their offence, sixth and lastly
why they are committed, and to conclude, what you	215
lay to their charge.
CLAUDIO     Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; and
by my troth there’s one meaning well suited.
DON PEDRO     Who have you offended, masters, that you
are thus bound to your answer? This learned constable	220
is too cunning to be understood. What’s your offence?
BORACHIO     Sweet Prince, let me go no farther to mine
answer. Do you hear me, and let this Count kill me. I
have deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms
could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to	225
light, who in the night overheard me confessing to this
man, how Don John your brother incensed me to
slander the Lady Hero, how you were brought into the
orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero’s
garments, how you disgraced her when you should	230
marry her. My villainy they have upon record, which
I had rather seal with my death than repeat over to my
shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master’s
false accusation; and briefly, I desire nothing but the
reward of a villain.	235
DON PEDRO     Runs not this speech like iron through your
blood?
CLAUDIO     I have drunk poison whiles he utter’d it.
DON PEDRO     But did my brother set thee on to this?
BORACHIO     Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it.	240
DON PEDRO     He is compos’d and fram’d of treachery,
And fled he is upon this villainy.
CLAUDIO     Sweet Hero! Now thy image doth appear
In the rare semblance that I lov’d it first.
DOGBERRY     Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this time	245
our sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the
matter: and masters, do not forget to specify, when
time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.
VERGES     Here, here comes Master Signior Leonato, and
the sexton too.	250
Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO and the Sexton.
LEONATO     Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes,
That when I note another man like him
I may avoid him. Which of these is he?
BORACHIO
If you would know your wronger, look on me.
LEONATO
Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill’d	255
Mine innocent child?
BORACHIO     Yea, even I alone.
LEONATO     No, not so, villain, thou beliest thyself.
Here stand a pair of honourable men –
A third is fled – that had a hand in it.
I thank you, Princes, for my daughter’s death;	260
Record it with your high and worthy deeds;
’Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.
CLAUDIO     I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself,
Impose me to what penance your invention	265
Can lay upon my sin; yet sinn’d I not
But in mistaking.
DON PEDRO     By my soul, nor I:
And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight
That he’ll enjoin me to.	270
LEONATO     I cannot bid you bid my daughter live –
That were impossible – but I pray you both,
Possess the people in Messina here
How innocent she died; and if your love
Can labour aught in sad invention,	275
Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,
And sing it to her bones, sing it tonight.
Tomorrow 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,	280
Almost the copy of my child that’s dead,
And she alone is heir to both of us.
Give her the right you should have giv’n her cousin,
And so dies my revenge.
CLAUDIO     O noble sir,
Your overkindness doth wring tears from me!	285
I do embrace your offer, and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio.
LEONATO     Tomorrow then I will expect your coming;
Tonight I take my leave. This naughty man
Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,	290
Who I believe was pack’d in all this wrong,
Hir’d to it by your brother.
BORACHIO     No, by my soul she was not,
Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,
But always hath been just and virtuous
In anything that I do know by her.	295
DOGBERRY     Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under
white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did
call me ass; I beseech you let it be remembered in his
punishment. And also the watch heard them talk of
one Deformed; they say he wears a key in his ear and a	300
lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God’s name,
the which he hath used so long, and never paid, that
now men grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing for
God’s sake: pray you examine him upon that point.
LEONATO     I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.	305
DOGBERRY     Your worship speaks like a most thankful
and reverent youth, and I praise God for you.
LEONATO     There’s for thy pains.
DOGBERRY     God save the foundation!
LEONATO     Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I	310
thank thee.
DOGBERRY     I leave an arrant knave with your worship,
which I beseech your worship to correct yourself, for
the example of others. God keep your worship! I
wish your worship well. God restore you to health! I	315
humbly give you leave to depart, and if a merry
meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come,
neighbour.     Exeunt Dogberry and Verges.
LEONATO     Until tomorrow morning, lords, farewell.
ANTONIO     Farewell, my lords, we look for you tomorrow.	320
DON PEDRO     We will not fail.
CLAUDIO     Tonight I’ll mourn with Hero.
LEONATO     [to the Watch]
Bring you these fellows on. We’ll talk with Margaret,
How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.
Exeunt.

5.2 Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting.

BENEDICK     Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve
well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of
Beatrice.
MARGARET     Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of
my beauty?	5
BENEDICK     In so high a style, Margaret, that no man
living shall come over it, for in most comely truth thou
deservest it.
MARGARET     To have no man come over me? Why, shall I
always keep below stairs?	10
BENEDICK     Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound’s
mouth, it catches.
MARGARET     And yours as blunt as the fencer’s foils,
which hit, but hurt not.
BENEDICK     A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt	15
a woman. And so I pray thee call Beatrice; I give thee
the bucklers.
MARGARET     Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our own.
BENEDICK     If you use them, Margaret, you must put in	20
the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for maids.
MARGARET     Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think
hath legs.     Exit.
BENEDICK     And therefore will come.	25
[Sings.]            The god of love,
That sits above,
And knows me, and knows me,
How pitiful I deserve –
I mean in singing; but in loving, Leander the good	30
swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a
whole bookful of these quondam carpet-mongers,
whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a
blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned
over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I	35
cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried. I can find out no
rhyme to ‘lady’ but ‘baby’ – an innocent rhyme; for
‘scorn’, ‘horn’ – a hard rhyme; for ‘school’, ‘fool’ – a
babbling rhyme; very ominous endings! No, I was not
born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in	40
festival terms.
Enter BEATRICE
Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
BEATRICE     Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
BENEDICK     O, stay but till then!	45
BEATRICE     ‘Then’ is spoken; fare you well now. And yet
ere I go, let me go with that I came, which is, with
knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.
BENEDICK     Only foul words – and thereupon I will kiss
thee.	50
BEATRICE     Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is
but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore
I will depart unkissed.
BENEDICK     Thou hast frighted the word out of his right
sense, so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee plainly,	55
CLAUDIO     undergoes my challenge, and either I must
shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a
coward. And I pray thee now tell me, for which of
my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
BEATRICE     For them all together, which maintained so	60
politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good
part to intermingle with them. But for which of my
good parts did you first suffer love for me?
BENEDICK     ‘Suffer love’ – a good epithet! I do suffer love
indeed, for I love thee against my will.	65
BEATRICE     In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor
heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for
yours, for I will never love that which my friend hates.
BENEDICK     Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
BEATRICE     It appears not in this confession; there’s not	70
one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.
BENEDICK     An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in
the time of good neighbours. If a man do not erect in
this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer
in monument than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.	75
BEATRICE     And how long is that, think you?
BENEDICK     Question: why, an hour in clamour and a
quarter in rheum. Therefore is it most expedient for
the wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no
impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his	80
own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praising
myself, who I myself will bear witness is praiseworthy.
And now tell me, how doth your cousin?
BEATRICE     Very ill.
BENEDICK     And how do you?	85
BEATRICE     Very ill too.
BENEDICK     Serve God, love me, and mend. There will I
leave you too, for here comes one in haste.
Enter URSULA.
URSULA     Madam, you must come to your uncle –
yonder’s old coil at home. It is proved my Lady Hero	90
hath been falsely accused, the Prince and Claudio
mightily abused, and Don John is the author of all,
who is fled and gone. Will you come presently?
BEATRICE     Will you go hear this news, signior?
BENEDICK     I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be	95
buried in thy eyes; and moreover, I will go with thee to
thy uncle’s.     Exeunt.

5.3 Enter CLAUDIO, DON PEDRO and three or four with tapers, followed by BALTHASAR and musicians.

CLAUDIO     Is this the monument of Leonato?
LORD     It is, my lord.
Epitaph.
CLAUDIO     [reading from a scroll]
‘Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,	5
Gives her fame which never dies:
So the life that died with shame
Lives in death with glorious fame.’
[Hangs up the scroll.]
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb.	10
Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
Song.
BALTHASAR
Pardon, goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.	15
Midnight, assist our moan,
Help us to sigh and groan,
Heavily, heavily:
Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,	20
Heavily, heavily.
CLAUDIO     Now unto thy bones good night!
Yearly will I do this rite.
DON PEDRO
Good morrow, masters; put your torches out.
The wolves have prey’d, and look, the gentle day,	25
Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
Thanks to you all, and leave us. Fare you well.
CLAUDIO
Good morrow, masters – each his several way.
DON PEDRO
Come let us hence, and put on other weeds,	30
And then to Leonato’s we will go.
CLAUDIO     And Hymen now with luckier issue speed’s
Than this for whom we render’d up this woe!
Exeunt.

5.4 Enter LEONATO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, MARGARET,
URSULA, ANTONIO, FRIAR FRANCIS and HERO.

FRIAR     Did I not tell you she was innocent?
LEONATO
So are the Prince and Claudio, who accus’d her
Upon the error that you heard debated.
But Margaret was in some fault for this,
Although against her will, as it appears	5
In the true course of all the question.
ANTONIO     Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
BENEDICK     And so am I, being else by faith enforc’d
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
LEONATO     Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all,	10
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,
And when I send for you, come hither mask’d.
Exeunt Ladies.
The Prince and Claudio promis’d by this hour
To visit me. You know your office, brother:
You must be father to your brother’s daughter,	15
And give her to young Claudio.
ANTONIO
Which I will do with confirm’d countenance.
BENEDICK     Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
FRIAR     To do what, signior?
BENEDICK     To bind me, or undo me – one of them.	20
Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
LEONATO
That eye my daughter lent her, ’tis most true.
BENEDICK     And I do with an eye of love requite her.
LEONATO     The sight whereof I think you had from me,	25
From Claudio and the Prince. But what’s your will?
BENEDICK     Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:
But for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin’d
In the state of honourable marriage;	30
In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
LEONATO     My heart is with your liking.
FRIAR     And my help.
Here comes the Prince and Claudio.
Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO, and two or three others.
DON PEDRO     Good morrow to this fair assembly.
LEONATO
Good morrow, Prince; good morrow, Claudio;	35
We here attend you. Are you yet determin’d
Today to marry with my brother’s daughter?
CLAUDIO     I’ll hold my mind were she an Ethiope.
LEONATO
Call her forth, brother; here’s the friar ready.
Exit Antonio.
DON PEDRO
Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what’s the matter,	40
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?
CLAUDIO     I think he thinks upon the savage bull.
Tush, fear not, man, we’ll tip thy horns with gold,
And all Europa shall rejoice at thee,	45
As once Europa did at lusty Jove,
When he would play the noble beast in love.
BENEDICK     Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low,
And some such strange bull leap’d your father’s cow,
And got a calf in that same noble feat	50
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
Enter ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, MARGARET and URSULA, the ladies masked.
CLAUDIO
For this I owe you: here comes other reck’nings.
Which is the lady I must seize upon?
ANTONIO     This same is she, and I do give you her.
CLAUDIO
Why then she’s mine. Sweet, let me see your face.	55
LEONATO     No, that you shall not till you take her hand,
Before this friar, and swear to marry her.
CLAUDIO     Give me your hand before this holy friar.
I am your husband if you like of me.
HERO     [unmasking]
And when I liv’d, I was your other wife;	60
And when you lov’d, you were my other husband.
CLAUDIO     Another Hero!
HERO     Nothing certainer:
One Hero died defil’d, but I do live,
And surely as I live, I am a maid.
DON PEDRO     The former Hero! Hero that is dead!	65
LEONATO
She died, my lord, but whiles her slander liv’d.
FRIAR     All this amazement can I qualify,
When after that the holy rites are ended
I’ll tell you largely of fair Hero’s death.
Meantime let wonder seem familiar,	70
And to the chapel let us presently.
BENEDICK     Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?
BEATRICE     [unmasking]
I answer to that name. What is your will?
BENEDICK     Do not you love me?
BEATRICE     Why, no, no more than reason.
BENEDICK
Why then, your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio	75
Have been deceiv’d – they swore you did.
BEATRICE     Do not you love me?
BENEDICK     Troth, no, no more than reason.
BEATRICE     Why then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula
Are much deceiv’d, for they did swear you did.
BENEDICK
They swore that you were almost sick for me.	80
BEATRICE
They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
BENEDICK
’Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
BEATRICE     No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
LEONATO
Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.
CLAUDIO     And I’ll be sworn upon’t that he loves her,	85
For here’s a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion’d to Beatrice.
HERO     And here’s another,
Writ in my cousin’s hand, stol’n from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.	90
BENEDICK     A miracle! Here’s our own hands against our
hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take
thee for pity.
BEATRICE     I would not deny you, but by this good day I
yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your	95
life, for I was told you were in a consumption.
BENEDICK     Peace! I will stop your mouth. [Kisses her.]
DON PEDRO
How dost thou, ‘Benedick, the married man’?
BENEDICK     I’ll tell thee what, Prince; a college of wit-
crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost thou	100
think I care for a satire or an epigram? No: if a man
will be beaten with brains, a shall wear nothing
handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to
marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the
world can say against it; and therefore never flout at	105
me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy
thing, and this is my conclusion. For thy part,
CLAUDIO     , I did think to have beaten thee, but in that
thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and
love my cousin.	110
CLAUDIO     I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied
BEATRICE     , that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy
single life, to make thee a double-dealer; which out of
question thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look
exceeding narrowly to thee.	115
BENEDICK     Come, come, we are friends. Let’s have a
dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own
hearts and our wives’ heels.
LEONATO     We’ll have dancing afterward.
BENEDICK     First, of my word! Therefore play, music.	120
Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife!
There is no staff more reverend than one tipped with
horn.
Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER
My lord, your brother John is ta’en in flight,
And brought with armed men back to Messina.	125
BENEDICK     Think not on him till tomorrow; I’ll devise
thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers!
Dance. Exeunt.