Speeches (Lines) for Don Pedro in "Much Ado About Nothing"

Messenger. Don Pedro is approached.

Don Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your
trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid
cost, and you encounter it.

Leonato. 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.

Don Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this
is your daughter.

Leonato. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.

Don 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.

Beatrice. You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.

Don Pedro. That 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.

Leonato. Please it your grace lead on?

Don Pedro. Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.

Benedick. Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world
one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?
Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score 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.

Don Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed
not to Leonato's?

Benedick. I would your grace would constrain me to tell.

Don Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance.

Claudio. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it
should be otherwise.

Don Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.

Claudio. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.

Don Pedro. By my troth, I speak my thought.

Claudio. That I love her, I feel.

Don Pedro. That she is worthy, I know.

Benedick. That I neither feel how she should be loved 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.

Don Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite
of beauty.

Benedick. 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. Because 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.

Don Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.

Benedick. 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.

Don Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou
wilt prove a notable argument.

Benedick. 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.

Don Pedro. Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull
doth bear the yoke.'

Claudio. If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.

Don Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.

Benedick. I look for an earthquake too, then.

Don Pedro. Well, you temporize with the hours. In the
meantime, 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.

Claudio. To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,--

Don Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick.

Claudio. My liege, your highness now may do me good.

Don Pedro. My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

Claudio. Hath Leonato any son, my lord?

Don Pedro. No child but Hero; she's his only heir.
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?

Claudio. O, my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
That liked, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love:
But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars.

Don Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently
And tire the hearer with a book of words.
If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it,
And I will break with her and with her father,
And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?

Claudio. How sweetly you do minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salved it with a longer treatise.

Don Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
The fairest grant is the necessity.
Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest,
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know we shall have revelling to-night:
I will assume thy part in some disguise
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then after to her father will I break;
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
In practise let us put it presently.

Leonato. The revellers are entering, brother: make good room.
[All put on their masks]
[Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR,]
DON JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA and others, masked]

Don Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend?

Hero. So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing,
I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away.

Don Pedro. With me in your company?

Hero. I may say so, when I please.

Don Pedro. And when please you to say so?

Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend the lute
should be like the case!

Don Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.

Hero. Why, then, your visor should be thatched.

Don Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love.

Benedick. Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges.
But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not
know me! The prince's fool! Ha? It may be I go
under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so I
am apt to do myself wrong; I am not so reputed: it
is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice
that puts the world into her person and so gives me
out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.

Don Pedro. Now, signior, where's the count? did you see him?

Benedick. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame.
I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a
warren: I told him, and I think I told him true,
that your grace had got the good will of this young
lady; and I offered him my company to a willow-tree,
either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or
to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped.

Don Pedro. To be whipped! What's his fault?

Benedick. The flat transgression of a schoolboy, who, being
overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his
companion, and he steals it.

Don Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The
transgression is in the stealer.

Benedick. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made,
and the garland too; for the garland he might have
worn himself, and the rod he might have bestowed on
you, who, as I take it, have stolen his birds' nest.

Don Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to
the owner.

Benedick. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith,
you say honestly.

Don Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the
gentleman that danced with her told her she is much
wronged by you.

Benedick. O, she misused me past the endurance of a block!
an oak but with one green leaf on it would have
answered her; my very visor began to assume life and
scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been
myself, that I was the prince's jester, that I was
duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest
with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood
like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at
me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs:
if her breath were as terrible as her terminations,
there were no living near her; she would infect to
the north star. I would not marry her, though she
were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before
he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have
turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make
the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find
her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God
some scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while
she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a
sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they
would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror
and perturbation follows her.

Don Pedro. Look, here she comes.

Benedick. Will your grace command me any service to the
world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now
to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on;
I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the
furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of
Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great
Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies,
rather than hold three words' conference with this
harpy. You have no employment for me?

Don Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.

Benedick. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot
endure my Lady Tongue.

Don Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of
Signior Benedick.

Beatrice. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave
him use for it, a double heart for his single one:
marry, once before he won it of me with false dice,
therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.

Don Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.

Beatrice. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I
should prove the mother of fools. I have brought
Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.

Don Pedro. Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad?

Claudio. Not sad, my lord.

Don Pedro. How then? sick?

Beatrice. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor
well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and
something of that jealous complexion.

Don Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true;
though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is
false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and
fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father,
and his good will obtained: name the day of
marriage, and God give thee joy!

Beatrice. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth
with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

Don Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.

Beatrice. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the
world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a
corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!

Don Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

Beatrice. I would rather have one of your father's getting.
Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your
father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

Don Pedro. Will you have me, lady?

Beatrice. No, my lord, unless I might have another for
working-days: your grace is too costly to wear
every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I
was born to speak all mirth and no matter.

Don Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in
a merry hour.

Beatrice. I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon.

Don Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.

Leonato. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my
lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and
not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say,
she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked
herself with laughing.

Don Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

Leonato. O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit.

Don Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedict.

Leonato. O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married,
they would talk themselves mad.

Don Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?

Leonato. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just
seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all
things answer my mind.

Don Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing:
but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go
dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of
Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signior
Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of
affection the one with the other. I would fain have
it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if
you three will but minister such assistance as I
shall give you direction.

Claudio. And I, my lord.

Don Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

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

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

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

Don Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music?

Claudio. Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,
As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!

Don Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?

Claudio. O, very well, my lord: the music ended,
We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.

Don Pedro. Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.

Balthasar. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander music any more than once.

Don Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency
To put a strange face on his own perfection.
I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.

Balthasar. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he swear he loves.

Don Pedro. Now, pray thee, come;
Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Do it in notes.

Balthasar. Note this before my notes;
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.

Don Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks;
Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing.

Balthasar. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy:
Then sigh not so, &c.

Don Pedro. By my troth, a good song.

Balthasar. And an ill singer, my lord.

Don Pedro. Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift.

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

Don Pedro. Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee,
get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we
would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window.

Balthasar. The best I can, my lord.

Don Pedro. Do so: farewell.
[Exit BALTHASAR]
Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of
to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with
Signior Benedick?

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

Don Pedro. May be she doth but counterfeit.

Leonato. O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of
passion came so near the life of passion as she
discovers it.

Don Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she?

Claudio. She did, indeed.

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

Claudio. He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up.

Don Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?

Leonato. She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the
ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter
is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage
to herself: it is very true.

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

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

Don Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an
excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion,
she is virtuous.

Claudio. And she is exceeding wise.

Don Pedro. In every thing but in loving Benedick.

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

Don Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would
have daffed all other respects and made her half
myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear
what a' will say.

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

Don Pedro. She doth well: if she should make tender of her
love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the
man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.

Claudio. He is a very proper man.

Don Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward happiness.

Claudio. Before God! and, in my mind, very wise.

Don Pedro. He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.

Claudio. And I take him to be valiant.

Don Pedro. As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of
quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he
avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes
them with a most Christian-like fear.

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

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

Leonato. Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first.

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

Claudio. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never
trust my expectation.

Don Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her; and that
must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The
sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of
another's dotage, and no such matter: that's the
scene that I would see, which will be merely a
dumb-show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner.

Beatrice. [Coming forward]
What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of such.
And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:
If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band;
For others say thou dost deserve, and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

Don Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and
then go I toward Arragon.

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 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 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.

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.

Don Pedro. Draw it.

Claudio. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.

Don Pedro. What! sigh for the toothache?

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; as, to be
a Dutchman today, a Frenchman to-morrow, 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 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?

Leonato. Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.

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.

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.

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.

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 nine wise words to speak to you, which these
hobby-horses must not hear.

Don Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

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.

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 married
to-morrow?

Don Pedro. You know he does.

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 bestowed.

Don Pedro. Why, what's the matter?

Claudio. Who, Hero?

Don Pedro. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero:

Claudio. May this be so?

Don Pedro. I will not think it.

Claudio. If I see any thing to-night why I should not marry
her to-morrow in the congregation, where I 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 issue show itself.

Don Pedro. O day untowardly turned!

Claudio. And what have I to give you back, whose worth
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?

Don Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.

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.

Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.

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
Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
A thousand times in secret.

Antonio. Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily.

Don Pedro. Good den, good den.

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.

Leonato. Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.

Don Pedro. You say not right, old man.

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.

Antonio. And shall, or some of us will smart for it.

Don Pedro. See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

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. 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?

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. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

Don Pedro. What, a feast, a feast?

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.

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?

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.

Don Pedro. He is in earnest.

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 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?

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!

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.

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.

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. I know not how to pray your patience;
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.

Antonio. Farewell, my lords: we look for you to-morrow.

Don Pedro. We will not fail.

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,
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;
And then to Leonato's we will go.

Friar Francis. And my help.
Here comes the prince and Claudio.

Don Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly.

Leonato. Call her forth, brother; here's the friar ready.

Don Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

Hero. Nothing certainer:
One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
And surely as I live, I am a maid.

Don Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead!

Benedick. Peace! I will stop your mouth.

Don Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?