| ACT V SCENE I | Before LEONATO'S house. | |
| | 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; | |
| | Nor let no comforter delight mine ear | |
| | But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. | |
| | Bring me a father that so loved 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, | |
| | 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, | |
| | 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 | |
| | 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. | |
| ANTONIO | Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily. | |
| | Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO. | |
| 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. | |
| ANTONIO | If he could right himself with quarreling, | 51 |
| | 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, | |
| | 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 forced to lay my reverence by |
| | And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days, | |
| | 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, framed by thy villany! | |
| CLAUDIO | My villany? | |
| 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 practise, | |
| | 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. | 80 | |
| ANTONIO | He shall kill two of us, and men indeed: | |
| | 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. | |
| LEONATO | Brother,-- | |
| ANTONIO | Content yourself. God knows I loved 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, out-facing, fashion-monging boys, | |
| | That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander, | |
| | Go anticly, show outward hideousness, |
| | And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, | |
| | How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst; | |
| | And this is all. | 99 | |
| LEONATO | But, brother Antony,-- | |
| ANTONIO | Come, 'tis no matter: |
| | 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 charged with nothing | |
| | But what was true and very full of proof. |
| 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. | 109 | |
| | Exeunt LEONATO and ANTONIO. | |
| DON PEDRO | See, see; here comes the man we went to seek. |
| | Enter BENEDICK. | |
| CLAUDIO | Now, signior, what news? | |
| BENEDICK | Good day, my lord. | |
| DON PEDRO | Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part | |
| | almost a fray. | |
| 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 thinkest thou? Had | |
| | we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them. | |
| BENEDICK | In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came | |
| | to seek you both. | 121 |
| 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? | |
| 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. | |
| DON PEDRO | As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou | |
| | sick, or angry? | 131 |
| 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 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 think | |
| | he be angry indeed. | |
| CLAUDIO | If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle. | 140 | |
| BENEDICK | Shall I speak a word in your ear? |
| CLAUDIO | God bless me from a challenge! | |
| BENEDICK | Aside to CLAUDIO. | |
| | 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. | |
| 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? | 153 | |
| 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 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 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. | 167 | |
| CLAUDIO | For the which she wept heartily and said she cared | |
| | not. | |
| DON PEDRO | Yea, that she did: but yet, for all that, an 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 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'? | 178 | |
| 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 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. | |
| CLAUDIO | In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for | |
| | the love of Beatrice. | 190 |
| DON PEDRO | And hath challenged thee. | |
| CLAUDIO | Most sincerely. | |
| DON PEDRO | What a pretty thing man is when he goes in 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? | |
| | Enter DOGBERRY, 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, |
| | an you be a cursing hypocrite, once you must be looked to. | |
| DON PEDRO | How now? two of my brother's men bound! Borachio | |
| | one! | 203 | |
| 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; thirdly, they have verified unjust | |
| | things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves. | 210 |
| 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 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 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 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 | |
| | marry her: my villany 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. | 232 | |
| 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 practise of it. | |
| DON PEDRO | He is composed and framed of treachery: | |
| | And fled he is upon this villany. | |
| CLAUDIO | Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear |
| | In the rare semblance that I loved it first. | 241 | |
| DOGBERRY | Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time 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. | |
| | Re-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with 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? | 250 |
| BORACHIO | If you would know your wronger, look on me. | |
| LEONATO | Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd | |
| | 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: | |
| | 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; | 260 | |
| | Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself; | |
| | Impose me to what penance your invention | |
| | 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. | |
| LEONATO | I cannot bid you bid my daughter live; |
| | That were impossible: but, I pray you both, | |
| | Possess the people in Messina here | 270 | |
| | How innocent she died; and if your love | |
| | Can labour ought in sad invention, | |
| | Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb |
| | And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night: | |
| | To-morrow morning come you to my house, | |
| | And since you could not be my son-in-law, | |
| | Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter, | |
| | Almost the copy of my child that's dead, |
| | And she alone is heir to both of us: | |
| | Give her the right you should have given her cousin, | |
| | And so dies my revenge. | |
| CLAUDIO | O noble sir, | 281 | |
| | Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me! |
| | I do embrace your offer; and dispose | |
| | For henceforth of poor Claudio. | |
| LEONATO | To-morrow then I will expect your coming; | |
| | To-night I take my leave. This naughty man | |
| | Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, |
| | Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong, | |
| | Hired to it by your brother. | |
| BORACHIO | No, by my soul, she was not, | |
| | Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, | 290 | |
| | But always hath been just and virtuous |
| | In any thing that I do know by her. | |
| 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 be wears a key in his ear and | |
| | a 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. | 301 |
| LEONATO | I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. | |
| DOGBERRY | Your worship speaks like a most thankful and | |
| | reverend 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 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 |
| | humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry | |
| | meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour. | 314 | |
| | Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES. | |
| LEONATO | Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. | |
| ANTONIO | Farewell, my lords: we look for you to-morrow. | |
| DON PEDRO | We will not fail. |
| CLAUDIO | To-night I'll mourn with Hero. | |
| LEONATO | To the Watch | |
| | talk with Margaret, | |
| | How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. | |
| | Exeunt, severally. | |