Much Ado About Nothing Page #8

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for the toothache.

Old signior, walk aside with me:

I have studied eight or nine

wise words to speak to you,

which these hobby-horses

must not hear.

For my life, to break

with him about Beatrice!

'Tis even so. Hero and Ursula have by this

played their parts with Beatrice;

and then the two bears will not bite

one another when they meet.

Oh, no.

- My lord and brother, God save you.

- Good evening, brother.

If your leisure served,

I would speak with you.

- In private?

- If it please you.

Yet Count Claudio may hear,

for what I would speak of concerns him.

What's the matter?

- Means your lordship to be married tomorrow?

- You know he does.

I know not that,

when he knows what I know.

If there be any impediment,

I pray you discover it.

You may think I love you not,

but let that appear here after

and e'en better than me,

by that I now will manifest.

For my brother,

I think he holds you well,

and in dearness of heart hath help to effect

your ensuing marriage,

surely suit ill spent and

labour ill bestowed.

- Why, what's the matter?

- I came hither to tell you,

and, circumstances shortened,

for she has been too long a talking of,

the lady is disloyal.

Who, Hero?

Even she; Leonato's Hero,

your Hero, every man's Hero.

Disloyal?

The word is too good to paint out her 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 the proof

even the night

before her wedding-day.

If you love her then,

tomorrow wed her,

but it would better fit your honour

to change your mind.

- May this be so?

- I will not think it.

If you dare not trust that you see,

confess not that you know.

If you will follow me,

I will show you enough,

and when you have seen more

and heard more, proceed accordingly.

If I see any thing tonight

why I should not marry her

in the congregation tomorrow,

where I should wed,

there will I shame her.

And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her,

I will join with thee to disgrace her.

I will disparage her no farther

till you are my witnesses.

Bear it coldly but till midnight, and

let the issue show itself.

- O day untowardly turned!

- O mischief strangely thwarting!

O plague right well prevented!

So will you say when

you have seen the sequel.

- What, Conrade!

- Peace! Stir not.

- Comrade, I say!

- Here, man.

I am at thy elbow.

Mass, and my elbow itched.

I thought there would a scab follow.

I will owe thee an answer for that.

- Now, forward with thy tale.

- Stand thee close, then.

Under this pent-house,

for it drizzles rain.

And I will, like a true drunkard,

utter all to thee.

Some treason! Stand close!

Didst thou not hear somebody?

No, he marks us not.

Therefore know I have earned

of Don John a thousand ducats.

Is it possible that any villany

should be so dear?

Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible

any villany should be so rich.

For when rich villains

have need of poor ones,

poor ones may make what

price they will.

- I wonder at it.

- That shows thou art unconfirmed.

Know that I have tonight

wooed Margaret,

the lady Hero's gentlewoman,

by the name of Hero!

I tell this tale vilely.

I should first tell thee

how the prince and Claudio,

planted and placed and possessed

by my master Don John,

saw afar off this amiable encounter.

And thought they Margaret was Hero?

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 by the dark night,

which did deceive them,

but chiefly by my villany,

which did confirm any slander that

Don John had made,

away went Claudio enraged.

Swore he would meet with her,

as appointed, next morning,

and there, before

the whole congregation,

shame her with what

he saw o'er night

and send her home again

without a husband.

We charge you

in the prince's name, stand!

Call up the right Master Constable.

We have here the most

dangerous piece of lechery

ever known in the commonwealth.

Masters, masters!

Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice

and desire her to rise.

- I will, lady.

- And bit her come hither.

- Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

- No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.

By my troth, 's not so good;

and I warrant your cousin will say so.

My cousin's a fool, and thou art another:

I'll wear none but this.

I like the new tire 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.

O, that exceeds, they say.

By my troth, 's but a night-gown

in respect of yours:

Cloth o' gold, and set with pearls,

down sleeves, side sleeves,

and skirts with a bluish tinsel...

but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent

fashion, yours is worth ten on 't.

God give me joy to wear it!

for my heart is exceeding heavy.

- 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

- Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

Of what, lady? of speaking honourably?

Is not marriage honourable in a beggar?

Is not your lord

honourable without marriage?

If bad thinking do not twist

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 not heavy:

ask my Lady Beatrice else;

here she comes.

- Good morrow, coz.

- Good morrow, sweet Hero.

- Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

- I am out of all other tune, methinks.

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

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

'Tis almost twelve o'clock, cousin;

tis time you were ready.

By my troth, I am

exceeding ill:
heigh-ho!

- For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

- What means the fool?

Nothing I; but God send

every one their heart's desire!

These gloves the count sent me;

they are an excellent perfume.

- I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell.

- A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.

O, God help me!

God help me! how long have you

professed apprehension?

Even since you left it.

Doth not my wit become me rarely?

It is not seen enough,

you should wear it in your cap.

By my troth, I am sick.

Why, then get you some of this

new medicine:
Carduus Benedictus.

- It is the only thing for a qualm.

- There thou prickest her with a thistle.

Benedictus?

Why Benedictus?

You have some moral in

this Benedictus.

Moral! no, by my troth, I have no

moral meaning with this Carduus Benedictus.

I meant, plain holy-thistle.

You may think 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 Benedick was such another, and

now is he become a man:

he swore he would never marry,

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