And then to glance from him to the duke himself; But we will know this purpose:-What! unjust? Dare no more stretch this finger of mine, than he Escal. Slander to the state! Away with him to prison. Ang. What can you vouch against him, signior Is this the man that you did tell us of? [Lucio? Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither good-man bald-pate: Do you know me ? Duke. I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice I met you at the prison, in the absence of the duke. Lucio. O did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke? Duke. Most notedly, sir. Lucio. Do you so, sir? And was the duke a flesh-monger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? Duke. You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and much more, much worse. Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose, for thy speeches ? Duke. I protest, I love the duke, as I love myself. Ang. Hark! how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses. Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal: Away with him to prison :-Where is the provost? -Away with him to prison; lay bolts enough upon him: let him speak no more:--Away with those giglots too, and with the other confederate companion. [The Provost lays hands on the Duke. Duke. Stay, sir; stay awhile. Ang. What! resists he! Help him, Lucio. Lucio. Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir: Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal! you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's visage, with a pox to you! show your sheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour! Will't not off? [Pulls off the Friar's hood, and discovers the Duke. Duke. Thou art the first knave, that e'er made a duke. First, provost, let me bail these gentle three:Sneak not away, sir; [to Lucio.] for the friar and you Must have a word anon :-lay hold on him. Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging. Duke. What you have spoke, I pardon; sit you down. [To Escalus. We'll borrow place of him-Sir, by your leave: [To Angelo. Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can do thee office? If thou hast, Rely upon it till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out. Ang. O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive, your grace, like power divine, Hath look'd upon my passes; Then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession; Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg. Duke. Come hither, Mariana:Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? Ang. I was, my lord. Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her, in stantly. Do you the office, friar; which consummate, Return him here again :-Go with him, provost. [Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Escal. My lord, I am more amazed at his disThan at the strangeness of it. [honour, Duke. Come hither, Isabel: Your friar is now your prince: As I was then Advertising, and holy to your business, Not changing heart with habit, I am still Attorney'd at your service.. Isab. O give me pardon, That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd Your unknown sovereignty. Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel : And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart; And you may marvel, why I obscur'd myself, Labouring to save his life; and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power, Than let him so be lost: O most kind maid, It was the swift celerity of his death, Which I did think with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: But, peace be with him! That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear; make it your comSo happy is your brother. [fort, [ther, Re-enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Isab. I do, my lord. Duke. For this new-married man, approaching Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd [here, Your well-defended honour, you must pardon For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudg'd your bro(Being criminal, in double violation Of sacred chastity, and of promise-breach, Thereon dependent, for your brother's life,) The very mercy of the law cries out Most audible, even from his proper tongue, An Angelo for Claudio, death for death. Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure. Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested: Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee vantage: We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like Away with him. [haste; Mari. O, my most gracious lord, Consenting to the safeguard of your honour, O, my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. [Kneeling. You do but lose your labour; Away with him to death.-Now, sir, [to Lucio.] to you. Most bounteous sir, [Kneeling. Let him not die: My brother had but justice, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent; That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no sub- Duke. Prov. What's he? His name is Barnardine. Prov. This is another prisoner, that I sav'd, That should have died when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio, as himself. [Unmuffles Claudio. Duke. If he be like your brother, [to Isabella.] for his sake Is he pardon'd; And, for your lovely sake, One all of luxury, an ass, a madman; Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick: If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipp'd. Duke. Whipp'd first, sir, and hang'd after, you a duke; good my lord, do not recompense me, in making me a cuckold. Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry me Duke. I would thou had'st done so by Claudio,-to a whore! Your highness said even now, I made Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [Brit Provost. Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. Ang. I am sorry, that such sorrow I procure: Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her. Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging. Duke. Slandering a prince deserves it.- Re-enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Juliet. I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue. Duke. Which is that Barnardine ? But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all; that? Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much good, 2 Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio. A Mess. And a good soldier too, lady. Beat. And a good soldier to a lady;-But what is he to a lord? Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues. Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,-Well, we are all mortal. Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signfor Benedick and her they never meet, but there is a skir mish of wit between them. conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last now is the old man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to remembered by Don Pedro: He hath borne him- be known a reasonable creature. Who is his com self beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the panion now? He hath every month a new sworn figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, in-brother. deed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.) Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it. Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, with out a badge of bitterness. Leon. Did he break out into tears? Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping? Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there Mess. O, he is returned, and as pleasant as ever he was. Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed ? for, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing. Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach. Mess. Is it possible? Beat. Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block. Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No: an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the devil? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. Beat. O Lord! he will hang upon him like a Leon. You will never run mad, niece. Enter Don Pedro, attended by Balthazar and others, D. Pedro. Good signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace; for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. D. Pedro. You embrace your charge too wil lingly. I think, this is your daughter. Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so.. Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? child. D. Pedro. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself:-Be happy, lady! for you are like an honourable father. Bene. If signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders, for all Messina, as like him as she is. Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Benedick; no body marks you. Bene. What, my dear lady Disdain! are you yet living. Beat. Is it possible, disdain should die, while she hath such meet food to feed it, as signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence. Bene. Then is courtesy a turn-coat :-But it is certain, I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart: for, truly, I love none. Beat. A dear happiness to women; they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God, and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that; I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me. Bene, God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face. Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were. Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of yours. Bene. I would, my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer: But keep your way o' God's name; I have done. Beat. You always end with a jade's trick; I know you of old. D. Pedro. This is the sum of all: Leonato,signior Claudio, and signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him, we shall stay here at the least a month; and he heartily prays some occasion may detain us longer: I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart. Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. D. John. I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you. Leon. Please it your grace lead on? Bene. I noted her not: but I looked on her. Bene. I can see without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty, as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope, you have no intent to turn husband; have you? Claud. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. Bene. Is it come to this, i' faith? Hath not the world one man, but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i' faith: an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Look, Don Pedro is returned to seek you. Re-enter Don Pedro. D. Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's ? Bene. I would, your grace would constrain me to tell. D. Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance. Bene. You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man, I would have you think so; but on my allegiance,-mark you this, on my allegiance: -He is in love. With who?-now that is your grace's part.-Mark, how short his answer is:With Hero, Leonato's short daughter. Claud. If this were so, so were it uttered. Bene. Like the old tale, my lord: " it is not so, nor 'twas not so; but, indeed, God forbid it should be so." Claud. If my passion change not shortly, God for. bid it should be otherwise. D. Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy. I Claud. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. Claud. That I love her, I feel. D. Pedro. That she is worthy, I know. Bene. That I neither feel how she should be lov. ed, nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me; I will die in it at the stake. D. Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretick in the despite of beauty. Claud. And never could maintain his part, but in the force of his will. Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me: Be cause I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, (for the which I may go the finer,) I will live a bachelor. D. Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale Bene. Do you question me as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a pro-with love. fessed tyrant to their sex? Claud. No, I pray thee, speak in sober judgment. Bene. Why, i' faith, methinks she is too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. Claud. Thou thinkest I am in sport; I pray thee, tell me truly how thou likest her. Bene. Would you buy her, that you inquire after Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel? [her ? Bene. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack; to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song? Claud. In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on. Bene. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love: prove, that ever I lose more blood with love, than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house, for the sign of blind Cupid. D. Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder, and called Adam. D. Pedro. Well, as time shall try : Bene. The savage bull may; but if ever this sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns, and set them in my forehead: and let me be vileiy painted; and in such great letters as they write, Here is good horse to hire, let them signify under my sign,-Here you may see Benedick the married man. Claud. If this should ever happen, thou would'st | sent time by the top, and instantly break with you be horn-mad. D. Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. Bene. I look for an earthquake too then. D. Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the mean time, good signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's; commend me to him, and tell him, I will not fail him at supper; for, indeed, he hath made great preparation. Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit youClaud. To the tuition of God: From my house, (if I had it,) D. Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick. Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not: The body of your discourse is some time guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience; and so I leave you. [Exit Benedick. Claud. My liege, your highness now may do me good. D. Pedro. My love is thine to teach; teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn D. Pedro. No child but Hero, she's his only Dost thou affect her, Claudio? [heir: Claud. O my lord, D. Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently, Claud. How sweetly do you minister to love, That know love's grief by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would have salv'd it with a longer treatise. D. Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity : I know, we shall have revelling to-night; I will assume thy part in some disguise, And, the conclusion is, she shall be thine: In practice let us put it presently. [Exeunt. SCENE 11.-A Room in Leonato's House. Enter Leonato and Antonio. Leon. How now, brother? Where is my cousin, your son? Hath he provided this musick? Ant. He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamed not of. Leon. Are they good? Ant. As the event stamps them; but they have a good cover, they show well outward. The prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in my orchard, were thus much overheard by of it. Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this? Ant. A good sharp fellow; I will send for him, and question him yourself. Leon. No, no; we will hold it as a dream, till it appear itself:-but I will acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you, and tell her of it. [Several persons cross the stage.] Cousins, you know what you have to do.-O, I cry you mercy, friend: you go with me, and I will use your skill:-Good cousins, have a care this busy time. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Another Room in Leonato's House. Enter Don John and Conrade. Con. What the goujere, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad? D. John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit. Con. You should hear reason. D. John. And when I have heard it, what blessing bringeth it? Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance. D. John. I wonder, that thou being (as thou say'st thou art) born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at no man's jests: eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy, and tend to no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour. Con. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this, till you may do it without controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you should take true root, but by the fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest. D. John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdain'd of all, than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied that I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle, and enfranchised with a clog: therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage: If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the mean time, let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me. Con. Can you make no use of your discontent ? D. John. I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? What news, Borachio ? Enter Borachio. Bora. I came yonder from a great supper; the prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leonato; and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. D. John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool, that betroths himself to unquietness? Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. D. John. A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. D. John. A very forward March-chick! How came you to this? Bora. Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was a man of mine: The prince discovered to Claudio, smoking a musty room, comes me the prince and that he loved my niece your daughter, and meant Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference: I whipt to acknowledge it this night in a dance; and, if me behind the arras; and there heard it agreed he found her accordant, he meant to take the pre- upon, that the prince should woo Hero for him |