MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING Much Ado About Nothing is not mentioned in the list of plays by Shakespeare given by Francis Meres in his Palladis Tamia, published in the autumn of 1598. Certain speech-prefixes of the first edition, published in 1600, suggest that as Shakespeare wrote he had in mind for the role of Dogberry the comic actor Will Kemp, who is believed to have left the Lord Chamberlain’s Men during 1599. Probably Shakespeare wrote the play between summer 1598 and spring 1599. The action is set in Sicily, where Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon, has recently defeated his half-brother, the bastard Don John, in a military engagement. Apparently reconciled, they return to the capital, Messina, as guests of the Governor, Leonato. There Count Claudio, a young nobleman serving in Don Pedro’s army, falls in love with Hero, Leonato’s daughter, whom Don Pedro woos on his behalf. The play’s central plot, written mainly in verse, shows how Don John maliciously deceives Claudio into believing that Hero has taken a lover on the eve of her marriage, causing Claudio to repudiate her publicly, at the altar. This is a variation on an old tale that existed in many versions; it had been told in Italian verse by Ariosto, in his Orlando Furioso (1516, translated into English verse by Sir John Harington, 1591), in Italian prose by Matteo Bandello in his Novelle (1554, adapted into French by P. de Belleforest, 1569), in English prose by George Whetstone (The Rock of Regard, 1576), in English verse by Edmund Spenser (The Faerie Queene, Book 2, canto 4, 1590), and in a number of plays including Luigi Pasqualigo’s II Fedele (1579), adapted into English—perhaps by Anthony Munday—as Fedele and Fortunio (published in 1583). Shakespeare, whose plot is an independent reworking of the traditional story, seems to owe most to Ariosto and Bandello, perhaps indirectly. Don John’s deception, with its tragicomical resolution, is offset by a parallel plot written mainly in prose, portraying another, more light-hearted deception, by which Hero’s cousin, Beatrice, and Benedick—friend of Don Pedro and Claudio—are tricked into acknowledging, first to themselves and then to each other, that they are in love. This part of the play seems to be of Shakespeare’s invention: the juxtaposition of this clever, sophisticated, apparently unillusioned pair with the more naive Claudio and Hero recalls Shakespeare’s earlier contrast of romantic and antiromantic attitudes to love and marriage in The Taming of the Shrew. The play’s third main strand is provided by Constable Dogberry, his partner Verges, and the Watchmen, clearly English rather than Sicilian in origin. Although Benedick and Beatrice are, technically, subordinate characters, they have dominated the imagination of both readers and playgoers.

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

Much Ado About Nothing

Atto 1, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, governor of Messina, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his niece, with a Messenger
LEONATO	I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Aragon comes this night to Messina.
MESSENGER	He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I left him.
LEONATO	How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
MESSENGER	But few of any sort, and none of name.
LEONATO	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.
MESSENGER	Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro. He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.
LEONATO	He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.
MESSENGER	I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him—even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.
LEONATO	Did he break out into tears?
MESSENGER	In great measure.
LEONATO	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!
BEATRICE	I pray you, is Signor Montanto returned from the wars, or no?
MESSENGER	I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in the army, of any sort.
LEONATO	What is he that you ask for, niece?
HERO	My cousin means Signor Benedick of Padua.
MESSENGER	O, he’s returned, and as pleasant as ever he was.
BEATRICE	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.
LEONATO	Faith, niece, you tax Signor Benedick too much. But he’ll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
MESSENGER	He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
BEATRICE	You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it. He is a very valiant trencherman, he hath an excellent stomach.
MESSENGER	And a good soldier too, lady.
BEATRICE	And a good soldier to a lady, but what is he to a lord?
MESSENGER	A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed with all honourable virtues.
BEATRICE	It is so, indeed. He is no less than a stuffed man. But for the stuffing—well, we are all mortal.
LEONATO	You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signor Benedick and her. They never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them. 61
BEATRICE	Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole 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 horse, for it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
MESSENGER	Is’t possible?
BEATRICE	Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.
MESSENGER	I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
BEATRICE	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?
MESSENGER	He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
BEATRICE	O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease. He is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio. If he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a be cured.
MESSENGER	I will hold friends with you, lady.
BEATRICE	Do, good friend.
LEONATO	You will never run mad, niece.
BEATRICE	No, not till a hot January.
MESSENGER	Don Pedro is approached.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, and Don John the bastard
DON PEDRO	Good Signor Leonato, are you 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	Her mother hath many times told me so.
BENEDICK	Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?
LEONATO	Signor 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.
BENEDICK	If Signor Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.
BEATRICE	I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody marks you.
BENEDICK	What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
BEATRICE	Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.
BENEDICK	Then is courtesy a turncoat. 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.
BEATRICE	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.
BENEDICK	God keep your ladyship still in that mind. So some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face.
BEATRICE	Scratching could not make it worse an ’twere such a face as yours were. BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
BEATRICE	A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
BENEDICK	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.
BEATRICE	You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.
DON PEDRO	That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signor Claudio and Signor 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	If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. (To Don John) Let me bid you welcome, my lord. Being reconciled to the Prince your brother, I owe you all duty.
DON JOHN	I thank you. I am not of many words, but I thank you.
LEONATO	(to Don Pedro) Please it your grace lead on?
DON PEDRO	Your hand, Leonato. We will go together. Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio
CLAUDIO	Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signor Leonato?
BENEDICK	I noted her not, but I looked on her.
CLAUDIO	Is she not a modest young lady?
BENEDICK	Do you question me as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgement, or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
CLAUDIO	No, I pray thee speak in sober judgement.
BENEDICK	Why, i’faith, methinks she’s 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.
CLAUDIO	Thou thinkest I am in sport. I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her.
BENEDICK	Would you buy her, that you enquire after her?
CLAUDIO	Can the world buy such a jewel?
BENEDICK	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?
CLAUDIO	In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.
BENEDICK	I can see yet 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?
CLAUDIO	I would scarce trust myself though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
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. Enter Don Pedro
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.
BENEDICK	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.
CLAUDIO	If this were so, so were it uttered.
BENEDICK	Like the old tale, my lord—it is not so, nor ’twas not so, but indeed, God forbid it should be so.
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	And in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
BENEDICK	And by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
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.
CLAUDIO	And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will.
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 baldric, 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.’
BENEDICK	The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull’s horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vilely 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’.
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 will temporize with the hours. In the mean time, good Signor 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.
BENEDICK	I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage. And so I commit you—
CLAUDIO	To the tuition of God, from my house if I had it—
DON PEDRO	The sixth of July, Your loving friend, Benedick.
BENEDICK	Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime 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
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 looked 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 returned, 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 tonight. 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 practice let us put it presently. Exeunt

Atto 1, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato and Antonio, an old man brother to Leonato, severally
LEONATO	How now, brother, where is my cousin, your son? Hath he provided this music? ANTONIO, He is very busy about it. But brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamt not of.
LEONATO	Are they good? ANTONIO, 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 mine orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the Prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece, your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if he found her accordant he meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you of it.
LEONATO	Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
ANTONIO	A good sharp fellow. I will send for him, and question him yourself.
(didascalia)	LEONATO 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. Enter attendants Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you mercy, friend. Go you with me and I will use your skill.—Good cousin, have a care this busy time. Exeunt

Atto 1, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don John the bastard and Conrad, his companion
CONRAD	What the goodyear, my lord, why are you thus out of measure sad?
DON JOHN	There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit.
CONRAD	You should hear reason. DON JOHN And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it?
CONRAD	If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
DON JOHN	I wonder that thou—being, as thou sayst 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 on no man’s business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour.
CONRAD	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.
DON JOHN	I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be disdained 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 but 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.
CONRAD	Can you make no use of your discontent?
DON JOHN	I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here?
(didascalia)	Enter Borachio
DON JOHN	What news, Borachio?
BORACHIO	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.
DON JOHN	Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness?
BORACHIO	Marry, it is your brother’s right hand.
DON JOHN	Who, the most exquisite Claudio?
BORACHIO	Even he.
DON JOHN	A proper squire. And who, and who? Which way looks he?
BORACHIO	Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
DON JOHN	A very forward March chick. How came you to this?
BORACHIO	Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room comes me the Prince and Claudio hand in hand, in sad conference. I whipped me behind the arras, and there heard it agreed upon that the Prince should woo Hero for himself and, having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
DON JOHN	Come, come, let us thither. This may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow. If I can cross him any way I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
CONRAD	To the death, my lord.
DON JOHN	Let us to the great supper. Their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were o’ my mind. Shall we go prove what’s to be done?
BORACHIO	We’ll wait upon your lordship.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio his brother, Hero his daughter, Beatrice his niece, Margaret, and Ursula
LEONATO	Was not Count John here at supper?
ANTONIO	I saw him not.
BEATRICE	How tartly that gentleman looks. I never can see him but I am heartburned an hour after.
HERO	He is of a very melancholy disposition.
BEATRICE	He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick. The one is too like an image and says nothing, and the other too like my lady’s eldest son, evermore tattling.
LEONATO	Then half Signor Benedick’s tongue in Count John’s mouth, and half Count John’s melancholy in Signor Benedick’s face—
BEATRICE	With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse—such a man would win any woman in the world, if a could get her good will.
LEONATO	By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
ANTONIO	In faith, she’s too curst.
BEATRICE	Too curst is more than curst. I shall lessen God’s sending that way, for it is said God sends a curst cow short horns, but to a cow too curst he sends none.
LEONATO	So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.
BEATRICE	just, if he send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in the woollen.
LEONATO	You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
BEATRICE	What should I do with him—dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him. Therefore I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bearherd and lead his apes into hell.
LEONATO	Well then, go you into hell?
BEATRICE	No, but to the gate, and there will the devil meet me like an old cuckold with horns on his head, and say, ‘Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven. Here’s no place for you maids.’ So deliver I up my apes and away to Saint Peter fore the heavens. He shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.
ANTONIO	(to Hero) Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.
BEATRICE	Yes, faith, it is my cousin’s duty to make curtsy and say, ‘Father, as it please you.’ But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say, ‘Father, as it please me.’
LEONATO	Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE	Not till God make men of some other mettle than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust?—to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I’ll none. Adam’s sons are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.
LEONATO	(to Hero) Daughter, remember what I told you. If the Prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.
BEATRICE	The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time. If the Prince be too important, tell him there is measure in everything, and so dance out the answer. For hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinquepace. The first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig—and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry. And then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster and faster till he sink into his grave.
LEONATO	Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
BEATRICE	I have a good eye, uncle. I can see a church by daylight.
LEONATO	The revellers are entering, brother. Make good room.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Balthasar, all masked, Don John, and Borachio, with a drummer
DON PEDRO	(to Hero) Lady, will you walk a bout 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. They move aside
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR (to Margaret) Well, I would you did like me.
MARGARET	So would not I, for your own sake, for I have many ill qualities.
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR Which is one?
MARGARET	I say my prayers aloud.
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR I love you the better—the hearers may cry amen.
MARGARET	God match me with a good dancer.
BALTHASAR	Amen.
MARGARET	And God keep him. out of my sight when the dance is done. Answer, clerk.
BALTHASAR	No more words. The clerk is answered. They move aside
URSULA	(to Antonio) I know you well enough, you are Signor Antonio.
ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
URSULA	I know you by the waggling of your head.
ANTONIO	To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
URSULA	You could never do him so ill-well unless you were the very man. Here’s his dry hand up and down. You are he, you are he.
ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
URSULA	Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he. Graces will appear, and there’s an end. They move aside
BEATRICE	(to Benedick) Will you not tell me who told you so? 115 BENEDICK No, you shall pardon me.
BEATRICE	Nor will you not tell me who you are?
BENEDICK	Not now.
BEATRICE	That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the Hundred Merry Tales—well, this was Signor Benedick that said so. BENEDICK What’s he?
BEATRICE	I am sure you know him well enough.
BENEDICK	Not I, believe me.
BEATRICE	Did he never make you laugh?
BENEDICK	I pray you, what is he?
BEATRICE	Why, he is the Prince’s jester, a very dull fool. Only his gift is in devising impossible slanders. None but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit but in his villainy, for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him. I am sure he is in the fleet. I would he had boarded me.
BENEDICK	When I know the gentleman, I’ll tell him what you say.
BEATRICE	Do, do. He’ll but break a comparison or two on me, which peradventure not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy, and then there’s a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night.
(didascalia)	Music
BEATRICE	We must follow the leaders.
BENEDICK	In every good thing.
BEATRICE	Nay, if they lead to any ill I will leave them at the next turning. Dance. Exeunt all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio
DON JOHN	(aside to Borachio) Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her, and but one visor remains.
BORACHIO	(aside to Don John) And that is Claudio. I know him by his bearing.
DON JOHN	Are not you Signor Benedick?
CLAUDIO	You know me well. I am he.
DON JOHN	Signor, you are very near my brother in his love. He is enamoured on Hero. I pray you dissuade him from her. She is no equal for his birth. You may do the part of an honest man in it.
CLAUDIO	How know you he loves her?
DON JOHN	I heard him swear his affection.
BORACHIO	So did I, too, and he swore he would marry her tonight.
DON JOHN	Come, let us to the banquet. Exeunt all but Claudio
CLAUDIO	Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. ’Tis certain so, the Prince woos for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero.
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
BENEDICK	Count Claudio?
CLAUDIO	Yea, the same.
BENEDICK	Come, will you go with me?
CLAUDIO	Whither?
BENEDICK	Even to the next willow, about your own business, County. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like an usurer’s chain? Or under your arm, like a lieutenant’s scarf? You must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.
CLAUDIO	I wish him joy of her.
BENEDICK	Why, that’s spoken like an honest drover; so they sell bullocks. But did you think the Prince would have served you thus?
CLAUDIO	I pray you leave me.
BENEDICK	Ho, now you strike like the blind man—’twas the boy that stole your meat, and you’ll beat the post.
CLAUDIO	If it will not be, I’ll leave you. Exit
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. Enter Don Pedro the Prince
DON PEDRO	Now, signor, 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 bird’s 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 bird’s 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.
(didascalia)	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 had 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. Enter Claudio and Beatrice, and Leonato with Hero
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. Exit
DON PEDRO	Come, lady, come, you have lost the heart of Signor Benedick.
BEATRICE	Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while, 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?
CLAUDIO	Neither, my lord.
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.
LEONATO	Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His grace hath made the match, and all grace say amen to it.
BEATRICE	Speak, Count, ’tis your cue.
CLAUDIO	Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much. (To Hero) Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange.
BEATRICE	(to Hero) 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	Yea, my lord, I thank it. Poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care.—My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.
CLAUDIO	And so she doth, cousin.
BEATRICE	Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes everyone 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 o’ question, you were born in a merry hour.
BEATRICE	No, sure, my lord, my mother cried. But then there was a star danced, and under that was I born. (To Hero and Claudio) Cousins, God give you joy.
LEONATO	Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE	I cry you mercy, uncle. (To Don Pedro) By your grace’s pardon. Exit Beatrice
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 dreamt 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 Benedick.
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?
CLAUDIO	Tomorrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.
LEONATO	Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just sevennight, 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 Signor Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection th‘one with th’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.
LEONATO	My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights’ watchings.
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. Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don John and Borachio
DON JOHN	It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato.
BORACHIO	Yea, my lord, but I can cross it.
DON JOHN	Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me. I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?
BORACHIO	Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me.
DON JOHN	Show me briefly how.
BORACHIO	I think I told your lordship a year since how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero.
DON JOHN	I remember.
BORACHIO	I can at any unseasonable instant of the night appoint her to look out at her lady’s chamber window.
DON JOHN	What life is in that to be the death of this marriage?
BORACHIO	The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the Prince your brother. Spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio—whose estimation do you mightily hold up—to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.
DON JOHN	What proof shall I make of that?
BORACHIO	Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue?
DON JOHN	Only to despite them I will endeavour anything.
BORACHIO	Go then. Find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone. Tell them that you know that Hero loves me. Intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio as in love of your brother’s honour who hath made this match, and his friend’s reputation who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial. Offer them instances, which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio. And bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the mean time I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero’s disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.
DON JOHN	Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.
BORACHIO	Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.
DON JOHN	I will presently go learn their day of marriage. Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
(didascalia)	BENEDICK Boy! Enter Boy
BOY	Signor?
BENEDICK	In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it hither to me in the orchard.
BOY	I am here already, sir.
(didascalia)	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 behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling 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 tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten mile afoot 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.
BOY	He hides. Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Leonato, and Claudio
DON PEDRO	Come, shall we hear this music?
CLAUDIO	Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hushed on purpose to grace harmony.
DON PEDRO	(aside) See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
CLAUDIO	(aside) O, very well, my lord. The music ended, We’ll fit the hid-fox with a pennyworth.
(didascalia)	Enter Balthasar with music
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 woos, Yet will he swear he loves.
DON PEDRO	Nay 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! The accompaniment begins
BENEDICK	Now, divine air! Now is his soul ravished. Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all’s done.
BALTHASAR	(sings) 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 more Of dumps so dull and heavy. The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leafy. Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey nonny, nonny.
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	(aside) 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 tomorrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero’s chamber window.
BALTHASAR	The best I can, my lord.
(didascalia)	Exit
DON PEDRO	Do so. Farewell. Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick?
CLAUDIO	(aside) O, ay, stalk on, stalk on. The fowl sits.—I did never think that lady would have loved any man.
LEONATO	No, nor I neither. But most wonderful that she should so dote on Signor Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.
BENEDICK	(aside) Is’t possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
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	Maybe she doth but counterfeit.
CLAUDIO	Faith, like enough.
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	(aside) Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
LEONATO	What effects, my lord? She will sit you—you heard my daughter tell you how.
CLAUDIO	She did indeed.
DON PEDRO	How, how, I pray you? You amaze me. I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.
LEONATO	I would have sworn it had, my lord, especially against Benedick.
BENEDICK	(aside) I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it. Knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.
CLAUDIO	(aside) He hath ta’en th’infection. Hold it up.
DON PEDRO	Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?
LEONATO	No, and swears she never will. That’s her torment.
CLAUDIO	‘Tis true, indeed, so your daughter says. ‘Shall I,’ says she, ‘that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?’
LEONATO	This says she now when she is beginning to write to him, for she’ll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper. My daughter tells us all.
CLAUDIO	Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.
LEONATO	O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet.
CLAUDIO	That.
LEONATO	O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, railed at herself that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. ‘I measure him,’ says she, ‘by my own spirit, for I should flout him if he writ to me, yea, though I love him I should.’
CLAUDIO	Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses, ‘O sweet Benedick, God give me patience.’
LEONATO	She doth indeed, my daughter says so, and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard 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 everything 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 doffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you tell Benedick of it, and hear what a will say.
LEONATO	Were it good, think you?
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 Christianlike 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?
CLAUDIO	Never tell him, my lord. Let her wear it out with good counsel.
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.
LEONATO	My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready.
CLAUDIO	(aside) If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation.
DON PEDRO	(aside) 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. Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato
BENEDICK	(coming forward) This can be no trick. The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady. It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say I will bear myself proudly if I perceive the love come from her. They say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair. ’Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous—’tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit—nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I have railed so long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No. The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice
BENEDICK	By this day, she’s a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.
BEATRICE	Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
BENEDICK	Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.
BEATRICE	I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful I would not have come.
BENEDICK	You take pleasure, then, in the message?
BEATRICE	Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife’s point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signor? Fare you well. Exit
BENEDICK	Ha! ‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.’ There’s a double meaning in that. ‘I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.’ That’s as much as to say ‘Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks.’—If I do not take pity of her I am a villain. If I do not love her I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit

Atto 3, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Hero and two gentlewomen, Margaret and Ursula
HERO	Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour. There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the Prince and Claudio. Whisper her ear, and tell her I and Ursula Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her. Say that thou overheard’st us, And bid her steal into the pleachèd bower Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter—like favourites Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it. There will she hide her To listen our propose. This is thy office. Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
MARGARET	I’ll make her come, I warrant you, presently.
(didascalia)	Exit
HERO	Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down Our talk must only be of Benedick. When I do name him, let it be thy part To praise him more than ever man did merit. My talk to thee must be how Benedick Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hearsay.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice Now begin,
HERO	For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs Close by the ground to hear our conference.
URSULA	The pleasant’st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait. So angle we for Beatrice, who even now Is couched in the woodbine coverture. Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
HERO	Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false-sweet bait that we lay for it.— They approach Beatrice’s hiding-place No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful. I know her spirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock.
URSULA	But are you sure That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
HERO	So says the Prince and my new trothèd lord.
URSULA	And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
HERO	They did entreat me to acquaint her of it, But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection And never to let Beatrice know of it.
URSULA	Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Deserve as full as fortunate a bed As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
HERO	O god of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man. But nature never framed a woman’s heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on, and her wit Values itself so highly that to her All matter else seems weak. She cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endearèd.
URSULA	Sure, I think so. And therefore certainly it were not good She knew his love, lest she’ll make sport at it.
HERO	Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward. If fair-faced, She would swear the gentleman should be her sister. If black, why nature, drawing of an antic, Made a foul blot. If tall, a lance ill headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut; If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out, And never gives to truth and virtue that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
URSULA	Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
HERO	No, not to be so odd and from all fashions As Beatrice is cannot be commendable. But who dare tell her so? If I should speak She would mock me into air, O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore let Benedick, like covered fire, Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly. It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling.
URSULA	Yet tell her of it, hear what she will say.
HERO	No. Rather I will go to Benedick And counsel him to fight against his passion. And truly, I’ll devise some honest slanders To stain my cousin with. One doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking.
URSULA	O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgement, Having so swift and excellent a wit As she is prized to have, as to refuse So rare a gentleman as Signor Benedick.
HERO	He is the only man of Italy, Always excepted my dear Claudio.
URSULA	I pray you be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy. Signor Benedick, For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour Goes foremost in report through Italy.
HERO	Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
URSULA	His excellence did earn it ere he had it. When are you married, madam?
HERO	Why, every day, tomorrow. Come, go in. I’ll show thee some attires and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me tomorrow.
URSULA	(aside) She’s limed, I warrant you. We have caught her, madam.
HERO	(aside) If it prove so, then loving goes by haps. Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Hero and Ursula
BEATRICE	(coming forward) What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemned 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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato
DON PEDRO	I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, 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 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.
BENEDICK	Gallants, I am not as I have been.
LEONATO	So say I. Methinks you are sadder.
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.
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.
BENEDICK	Well, everyone 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, 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 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?
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.
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 signor, walk aside with me. I have studied eight or 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 played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two bears will not bite one another when they meet.
(didascalia)	Enter Don John the bastard
DON JOHN	My lord, and brother, God save you.
DON PEDRO	Good-e’en, 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 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.
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?
DON JOHN	I came hither to tell you, and, circumstances shortened—for she has been too long a-talking of—the lady is disloyal.
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 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, 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 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 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	O mischief strangely thwarting!
DON JOHN	O plague right well prevented!—So will you say when you have seen the sequel. Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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, being chosen for the Prince’s watch.
VERGES	Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
DOGBERRY	First, who think you the most desertless man to be constable?
SECOND WATCHMAN	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 nature.
FIRST 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, 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 stand, in the Prince’s name.
FIRST 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.
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 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 offend. Only have a care that your bills be not stolen. Well, you are to call at all the alehouses 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. 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 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 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.
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 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 baes will never answer a calf when he bleats.
VERGES	’Tis very true.
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 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.
DOGBERRY	Ha ha ha! Well, masters, good night. An there be any matter of weight chances, call up me. Keep your fellows’ counsels, and your own, and good night. Come, neighbour.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN Well, masters, we hear our charge. Let us 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 Signor Leonato’s door, for the wedding being there tomorrow, there is a great coil tonight. Adieu. Be vigitant, I beseech you.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. The Watch sit
(didascalia)	Enter Borachio and Conrad
BORACHIO	What, Conrad!
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN (aside) Peace, stir not.
BORACHIO	Conrad, I say.
CONRAD	Here, man, I am at thy elbow.
BORACHIO	Mass, an my elbow itched, I thought there would a scab follow.
CONRAD	I will owe thee an answer for that. And now, forward with thy tale.
BORACHIO	Stand thee close, then, under this penthouse, for it drizzles rain, and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee. A WATCHMAN (aside) Some treason, masters. Yet stand close.
BORACHIO	Therefore, know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
CONRAD	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 have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will.
CONRAD	I wonder at it.
BORACHIO	That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou knowest that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak is nothing to a man.
CONRAD	Yes, it is apparel.
BORACHIO	I mean the fashion.
CONRAD	Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
BORACHIO	Tush, I may as well say the fool’s the fool. But seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is ? A 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?
CONRAD	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 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?
CONRAD	All this I see, and I see that the fashion wears 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 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 off in the orchard this amiable encounter.
CONRAD	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 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 congregation, shame her with what he saw o’ernight, and send her home again without a husband.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN (coming forward) We charge you in the Prince’s name. Stand.
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN Call up the right Master Constable. We have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN And one Deformed is one of them. I know him—a wears a lock.
CONRAD	Masters, masters!
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN You’ll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.
(didascalia)	CONRAD Masters—
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN Never speak. We charge you. Let us obey you to go with us.
BORACHIO	(to Conrad) We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of these men’s bills.
CONRAD	A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we’ll obey you. Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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
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 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.
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 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 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 have me say ‘saving your reverence, a husband’. An bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I’ll offend nobody. Is there any harm in ‘the heavier for a husband’? None, I think, an it be the right husband and the right wife—otherwise ’tis light and 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. 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.
MARGARET	O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
BEATRICE	(to Hero) ‘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?
BEATRICE	For the letter that begins them all—h.
MARGARET	Well, an 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 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 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?
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.
HERO	There thou prickest 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 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, 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.
BEATRICE	What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
MARGARET	Not a false gallop. Enter Ursula
URSULA	(to Hero) Madam, withdraw. The Prince, the Count, Signor Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church.
HERO	Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 5

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, and
(didascalia)	Dogberry the constable, and Verges the headborough
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.
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, 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.
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 to bestow it all of your worship.
LEONATO	All thy tediousness on me, ah?
DOGBERRY	Yea, an ’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, 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 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. An two men ride of 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.
DOGBERRY	Gifts that God gives!
LEONATO	I must leave you.
DOGBERRY	One word, sir. Our watch, sir, have indeed comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship.
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 daughter to her husband.
LEONATO	I’ll wait upon them, I am ready. Exeunt Leonato and Messenger
DOGBERRY	Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail. We are now to examination these men.
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-com. Only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail. Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Don John the bastard, Leonato, Friar Francis, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice
LEONATO	Come, Friar Francis, be brief. Only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.
FRIAR	(to Claudio) You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?
CLAUDIO	No.
LEONATO	To be married to her. Friar, you come to marry her.
FRIAR	(to Hero) Lady, you come hither to be married to this count?
HERO	I do.
FRIAR	If either of you know any inward impediment 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?
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!’
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 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. 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 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.
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 vanquished the resistance of her youth 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, I never tempted her with word too large, But as a brother to his sister showed Bashful sincerity and comely love.
HERO	And seemed I ever otherwise to you?
CLAUDIO	Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it. 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 pampered animals That rage in savage sensuality.
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 dishonoured, that have gone about To link my dear friend to a common stale.
LEONATO	Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
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?
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	(to Hero) I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
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. Hero itself can blot out Hero’s virtue. What man was he talked with you yesternight Out at your window betwixt twelve and one? Now if you are a maid, answer to this.
HERO	I talked 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, Confessed the vile encounters they have had A thousand times in secret.
DON JOHN	Fie, fie, they are Not to be named, my lord, not to be spoke of. 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 placed 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 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 falls to the ground
BEATRICE	Why, how now, cousin, wherefore sink you down?
DON JOHN	Come. Let us go. These things come thus to light Smother her spirits up.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio
BENEDICK	How doth the lady?
BEATRICE	Dead, I think. Help, uncle. Hero, why Hero! Uncle, Signor Benedick, Friar—
LEONATO	O fate, take not away thy heavy hand. Death is the fairest cover for her shame That may be wished for.
BEATRICE	How now, cousin Hero?
FRIAR	(to Hero) Have comfort, lady.
LEONATO	(to Hero) 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 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 Strike at thy life. Grieved 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 Took up a beggar’s issue at my gates, Who smirched thus and mired with infamy, I might have said ‘No part of it is mine, This shame derives itself from unknown loins.’ But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised, 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 fallen Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea Hath drops too few to wash her clean again, And salt too little which may season give To her foul tainted flesh.
BENEDICK	Sir, sir, be patient. For my part, I am so attired in wonder I know not what to say.
BEATRICE	O, on my soul, my cousin is belied.
BENEDICK	Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
BEATRICE	No, truly not, although until last night I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
LEONATO	Confirmed, confirmed. O, that is stronger made Which was before barred up with ribs of iron. Would the two princes lie? And Claudio lie, Who loved her so that, speaking of her foulness, Washed it with tears? Hence from her, let her die.
FRIAR	Hear me a little, For I have only been silent so long And given way unto this course of fortune By noting of the lady. I have marked A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness beat away those blushes, And in her eye there hath appeared 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 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 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	(to Hero) Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
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 conversed At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight Maintained 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, 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 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, But they shall find awaked 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. Your daughter here the princes left for dead, Let her a while be secretly kept in, And publish it that she is dead indeed. Maintain a mourning ostentation, And on your family’s old monument 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. 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 maintained, Upon the instant that she was accused— Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused Of every hearer. For it so falls out That what we have, we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but, being lacked and lost, Why then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us 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 Shall come apparelled in more precious habit, More moving-delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soul Than when she lived indeed. Then shall he mourn, If ever love had interest in his liver, And wish he had not so accusèd 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. But if all aim but this be levelled 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, In some reclusive and religious life, Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
BENEDICK	Signor Leonato, let the Friar advise you. And though you know my inwardness and love Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio, 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, For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure. (To Hero) Come, lady, die to live. This wedding day Perhaps is but prolonged. Have patience, and endure.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Beatrice and Benedick
BENEDICK	Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
BEATRICE	Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
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 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.
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 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.
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?
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.
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.
BEATRICE	I am gone though I am here. There is no love in you.—Nay, I pray you, let me go. 295
BENEDICK	Beatrice.
BEATRICE	In faith, I will go.
BENEDICK	We’ll be friends first.
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? 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.
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 slandered, she is undone.
BENEDICK	Beat—
BEATRICE	Princes and counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfit, a sweet gallant, surely. O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, 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 wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. 324
BENEDICK	Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
BEATRICE	Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
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, 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

Atto 4, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Dogberry and Verges the constables, and the Sexton, in gowns, and the Watch, with Conrad and Borachio
DOGBERRY	Is our whole dissembly appeared?
VERGES	O, a stool and a cushion for the Sexton.
(didascalia)	SEXTON sits Which be the malefactors?
DOGBERRY	Marry, that am I, and my partner.
VERGES	Nay, that’s certain, we have the exhibition to 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?
BORACHIO	Borachio.
DOGBERRY	(to the Sexton) Pray write down ‘Borachio’. (To Conrad) Yours, sirrah?
CONRAD	I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrad.
DOGBERRY	Write down ‘Master Gentleman Conrad’.—Masters, do you serve God?
CONRAD	and 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 that you are little better than false knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves?
CONRAD	Marry, sir, we say we are none.
DOGBERRY	A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you, but 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 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 watch come forth. Masters, I charge you in the Prince’s name accuse these men.
FIRST WATCHMAN	This man said, sir, that Don John, the Prince’s brother, was a villain.
DOGBERRY	Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this 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?
SECOND 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.
SEXTON	What else, fellow?
FIRST 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 everlasting redemption for this.
SEXTON	What else?
WATCH	This is all.
SEXTON	And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away. 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
DOGBERRY	Come, let them be opinioned.
VERGES	Let them be, in the hands—
(didascalia)	CONRAD Off, coxcomb!
DOGBERRY	God’s my life, where’s the Sexton? Let him write down the Prince’s officer coxcomb. Come, bind them. Thou naughty varlet!
CONRAD	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 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 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! Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato and Antonio his brother ANTONIO
(didascalia)	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 overwhelmed like mine, And bid him speak of patience. 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 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 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 pish at chance and sufferance.
ANTONIO	Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself. Make those that do offend you suffer, too.
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.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince and Claudio
ANTONIO	Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.
DON PEDRO	Good e‘en, good e’en.
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 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 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 What I have done being young, or what would do Were I not old. Know Claudio to thy head, Thou hast so wronged 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 Save this of hers, framed 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, His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.
CLAUDIO	Away, I will not have to do with you.
LEONATO	Canst thou so doff me? Thou hast killed my child. If thou kill’st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
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, slandered to death by villains That dare as well answer a man indeed As I dare take a serpent by the tongue. 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, Go anticly, and show an outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst, And this is all.
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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Leonato and Antonio
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
DON PEDRO	See, see, here comes the man we went to seek.
CLAUDIO	Now signor, what news?
BENEDICK	(to Don Pedro) Good day, my lord.
DON PEDRO	Welcome, signor. You are almost come to part almost a fray.
CLAUDIO	We had liked 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.
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?
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 an 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.
BENEDICK	(aside to Claudio) Shall I speak a word in your ear?
CLAUDIO	God bless me from a challenge.
BENEDICK	You are a villain. I jest not. 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. 149
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? 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 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 trans-shape 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?
CLAUDIO	Yea, and text underneath, ‘Here dwells Benedick the married man’.
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. (To Don Pedro) 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.
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! 196
(didascalia)	Enter Dogberry and Verges the constables, the Watch, Conrad, and Borachio
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	(to Conrad and Borachio) 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 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.
DON PEDRO	(to Claudio) Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?
CLAUDIO	I have drunk poison whiles he uttered it.
DON PEDRO	(to Borachio) But did my brother set thee on to this?
BORACHIO	Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it.
DON PEDRO	He is composed and framed of treachery, And fled he is upon this villainy.
CLAUDIO	Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I loved it first.
DOGBERRY	Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this time our Sexton hath reformed Signor 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 Signor Leonato, and the Sexton, too.
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio his brother, 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 killed 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, Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself, Impose me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my sin. Yet sinned 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 How innocent she died, and if your love Can labour aught in sad invention, 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, 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. 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, Who I believe was packed 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, But always hath been just and virtuous In anything that I do know by her.
DOGBERRY	(to Leonato) 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 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.
DOGBERRY	Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth, and I praise God for you.
LEONATO	(giving him money) 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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Dogberry and Verges
LEONATO	Until tomorrow morning, lords, farewell.
ANTONIO	Farewell, my lords. We look for you tomorrow.
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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick and Margaret
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?
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?
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 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 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. (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 swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full 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 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 festival terms.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice
BENEDICK	Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
BEATRICE	Yea, signor, and depart when you bid me.
BENEDICK	O, stay but till then.
BEATRICE	‘Then’ is spoken. Fare you well now. And yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.
BENEDICK	Only foul words, and thereupon I will kiss thee.
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, 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 maintain so 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.
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 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.
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 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?
BEATRICE	Very ill too.
BENEDICK	Serve God, love me, and mend. There will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.
(didascalia)	Enter Ursula
URSULA	Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder’s old coil at home. It is proved my lady Hero 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, signor?
BENEDICK	I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes. And moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle’s. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Claudio, Don Pedro the Prince, and three or four with tapers, all in black
CLAUDIO	Is this the monument of Leonato? A LORD It is, my lord.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO (reading from a scroll)
CLAUDIO	Done to death by slanderous tongues Was the Hero that here lies. Death in guerdon of her wrongs Gives her fame which never dies. So the life that died with shame Lives in death with glorious fame. He hangs the epitaph on the tomb Hang thou there upon the tomb, Praising her when I am dumb. Now music sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
(didascalia)	Song
CLAUDIO	Pardon, goddess of the night, Those that slew thy virgin knight, For the which with songs of woe Round about her tomb they go. Midnight, assist our moan, Help us to sigh and groan, Heavily, heavily. Graves yawn, and yield your dead Till death be utterèd, Heavily, heavily.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO
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 preyed, 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.
CLAUDIO	And Hymen now with luckier issue speed ’s Than this for whom we rendered up this woe.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Margaret, Ursula, Friar Francis, and Hero
FRIAR	Did I not tell you she was innocent?
LEONATO	So are the Prince and Claudio who accused her Upon the error that you heard debated. But Margaret was in some fault for this, Although against her will as it appears In the true course of all the question.
ANTONIO	Well, I am glad that all things sorts so well.
BENEDICK	And so am I, being else by faith enforced To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
LEONATO	Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves, And when I send for you come hither masked.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Beatrice, Hero, Margaret, and Ursula
LEONATO	The Prince and Claudio promised by this hour To visit me. You know your office, brother, You must be father to your brother’s daughter, And give her to young Claudio.
ANTONIO	Which I will do with confirmed countenance.
BENEDICK	Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
FRIAR	To do what, signor?
BENEDICK	To bind me or undo me, one of them. Signor Leonato, truth it is, good signor, 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, 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 conjoined In the state of honourable marriage, 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro and Claudio with attendants
DON PEDRO	Good morrow to this fair assembly.
LEONATO	Good morrow, Prince. Good morrow, Claudio. We here attend you. Are you yet determined 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.
(didascalia)	Exit Antonio
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?
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 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 leapt your father’s cow And got a calf in that same noble feat Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
(didascalia)	Enter Antonio with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and Ursula, masked
CLAUDIO	For this I owe you. Here comes other reck’nings. Which is the lady I must seize upon?
(didascalia)	ANTONIO
CLAUDIO	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	(to Hero) Give me your hand before this holy friar. I am your husband if you like of me.
HERO	(unmasking) And when I lived I was your other wife; And when you loved, you were my other husband.
CLAUDIO	Another Hero!
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!
LEONATO	She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.
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, 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 Have been deceived. 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 deceived, for they did swear you did.
BENEDICK	They swore that you were almost sick for me.
BEATRICE	They swore that you were wellnigh 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, For here’s a paper written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashioned to Beatrice.
HERO	And here’s another, Writ in my cousin’s hand, stol’n from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick.
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 life, for I was told you were in a consumption.
BENEDICK	(kissing her) Peace, I will stop your mouth.
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 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 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.
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.
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. (To Don Pedro) Prince, thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife. There is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.
(didascalia)	Enter Messenger
MESSENGER	My lord, your brother John is ta’en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina.
BENEDICK	Think not on him till tomorrow, I’ll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers. Dance, and exeunt
HENRY	V
THE	Chorus to Act 5 of Henry V contains an uncharacteristic, direct topical reference: Were now the General of our gracious Empress— As in good time he may—from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit To welcome him! ‘The General’ must be the Earl of Essex, whose ‘Empress’—Queen Elizabeth—had sent him on an Irish campaign on 27 March 1599; he returned, disgraced, on 28 September. Plans for his campaign had been known at least since the previous November; the idea that he might return in triumph would have been meaningless after September 1599, and it seems likely that Shakespeare completed his play during 1599, probably in the spring. It appeared in print, in a short and debased text, in (probably) August 1600, when it was said to have ‘been sundry times played by the Right Honourable the Lord Chamberlain his servants’. Although this text (which omits the Choruses) seems to have been put together from memory by actors playing in an abbreviated adaptation, the Shakespearian text behind it appears to have been in a later state than the generally superior text printed from Shakespeare’s own papers in the 1623 Folio. Our edition draws on the 1600 quarto in the attempt to represent the play as acted by Shakespeare’s company. The principal difference is the reversion to historical authenticity in the substitution at Agincourt of the Duke of Bourbon for the Dauphin. As in the two plays about Henry IV, Shakespeare is indebted to The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth (printed 1598). Other Elizabethan plays about Henry V, now lost, may have influenced him; he certainly used the chronicle histories of Edward Hall (1542) and Holinshed (1577, revised and enlarged in 1587). From the ‘civil broils’ of the earlier history plays, Shakespeare turns to portray a country united in war against France. Each act is prefaced by a Chorus, speaking some of the play’s finest poetry, and giving it an epic quality. Henry V, ‘star of England’, is Shakespeare’s most heroic warrior king, but (like his predecessors) has an introspective side, and is aware of the crime by which his father came to the throne. We are reminded of his ‘wilder days’, and see that the transition from ‘madcap prince’ to the ‘mirror of all Christian kings’ involves loss: although the epilogue to 2 Henry IV had suggested that Sir John would reappear, he is only, though poignantly, an off-stage presence. Yet Shakespeare’s infusion of comic form into historical narrative reaches its natural conclusion in this play. Sir John’s cronies, Pistol, Bardolph, Nim, and Mistress Quickly, reappear to provide a counterpart to the heroic action, and Shakespeare invents comic episodes involving an Englishman (Gower), a Welshman (Fluellen), an Irishman (MacMorris), and a Scot (Jamy). The play also has romance elements, in the almost incredible extent of the English victory over the French and in the disguised Henry’s comradely mingling with his soldiers, as well as in his courtship of the French princess. The play’s romantic and heroic aspects have made it popular especially in times of war and have aroused accusations of jingoism, but the horrors of war are vividly depicted, and the Chorus’s closing speech reminds us that Henry died young, and that his son’s protector ‘lost France and made his England bleed’.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, governor of Messina, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his niece, with a Messenger
LEONATO	I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Aragon comes this night to Messina.
MESSENGER	He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I left him.
LEONATO	How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
MESSENGER	But few of any sort, and none of name.
LEONATO	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.
MESSENGER	Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro. He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.
LEONATO	He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.
MESSENGER	I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him—even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.
LEONATO	Did he break out into tears?
MESSENGER	In great measure.
LEONATO	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!
BEATRICE	I pray you, is Signor Montanto returned from the wars, or no?
MESSENGER	I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in the army, of any sort.
LEONATO	What is he that you ask for, niece?
HERO	My cousin means Signor Benedick of Padua.
MESSENGER	O, he’s returned, and as pleasant as ever he was.
BEATRICE	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.
LEONATO	Faith, niece, you tax Signor Benedick too much. But he’ll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
MESSENGER	He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
BEATRICE	You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it. He is a very valiant trencherman, he hath an excellent stomach.
MESSENGER	And a good soldier too, lady.
BEATRICE	And a good soldier to a lady, but what is he to a lord?
MESSENGER	A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed with all honourable virtues.
BEATRICE	It is so, indeed. He is no less than a stuffed man. But for the stuffing—well, we are all mortal.
LEONATO	You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signor Benedick and her. They never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them. 61
BEATRICE	Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole 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 horse, for it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
MESSENGER	Is’t possible?
BEATRICE	Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.
MESSENGER	I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
BEATRICE	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?
MESSENGER	He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
BEATRICE	O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease. He is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio. If he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a be cured.
MESSENGER	I will hold friends with you, lady.
BEATRICE	Do, good friend.
LEONATO	You will never run mad, niece.
BEATRICE	No, not till a hot January.
MESSENGER	Don Pedro is approached.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, and Don John the bastard
DON PEDRO	Good Signor Leonato, are you 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	Her mother hath many times told me so.
BENEDICK	Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?
LEONATO	Signor 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.
BENEDICK	If Signor Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.
BEATRICE	I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody marks you.
BENEDICK	What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
BEATRICE	Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.
BENEDICK	Then is courtesy a turncoat. 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.
BEATRICE	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.
BENEDICK	God keep your ladyship still in that mind. So some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face.
BEATRICE	Scratching could not make it worse an ’twere such a face as yours were. BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
BEATRICE	A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
BENEDICK	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.
BEATRICE	You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.
DON PEDRO	That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signor Claudio and Signor 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	If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. (To Don John) Let me bid you welcome, my lord. Being reconciled to the Prince your brother, I owe you all duty.
DON JOHN	I thank you. I am not of many words, but I thank you.
LEONATO	(to Don Pedro) Please it your grace lead on?
DON PEDRO	Your hand, Leonato. We will go together. Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio
CLAUDIO	Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signor Leonato?
BENEDICK	I noted her not, but I looked on her.
CLAUDIO	Is she not a modest young lady?
BENEDICK	Do you question me as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgement, or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
CLAUDIO	No, I pray thee speak in sober judgement.
BENEDICK	Why, i’faith, methinks she’s 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.
CLAUDIO	Thou thinkest I am in sport. I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her.
BENEDICK	Would you buy her, that you enquire after her?
CLAUDIO	Can the world buy such a jewel?
BENEDICK	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?
CLAUDIO	In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.
BENEDICK	I can see yet 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?
CLAUDIO	I would scarce trust myself though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
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. Enter Don Pedro
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.
BENEDICK	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.
CLAUDIO	If this were so, so were it uttered.
BENEDICK	Like the old tale, my lord—it is not so, nor ’twas not so, but indeed, God forbid it should be so.
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	And in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
BENEDICK	And by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
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.
CLAUDIO	And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will.
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 baldric, 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.’
BENEDICK	The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull’s horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vilely 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’.
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 will temporize with the hours. In the mean time, good Signor 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.
BENEDICK	I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage. And so I commit you—
CLAUDIO	To the tuition of God, from my house if I had it—
DON PEDRO	The sixth of July, Your loving friend, Benedick.
BENEDICK	Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime 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
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 looked 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 returned, 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 tonight. 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 practice let us put it presently. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato, governatore di Messina, Ero sua figlia, e Beatrice sua nipote, con un Messaggero
LEONATO	Apprendo da questa lettera che Don Pedro d’Aragona giunge questa notte a Messina.
MESSAGGERO	A quest’ora è ormai vicinissimo. Non era a tre leghe di distanza quando l’ho lasciato.
LEONATO	Quanti gentiluomini avete perduto in questa impresa?
MESSAGGERO	Pochi d’ogni grado, e nessuno di nome.
LEONATO	Una vittoria vale il doppio quando il vincitore riporta a casa tutti i suoi. Trovo qui che Don Pedro ha conferito molto onore a un giovane fiorentino chiamato Claudio.
MESSAGGERO	Ben meritato da parte sua, ed equamente ricordato da Don Pedro. Si è comportato oltre la promessa della sua età, compiendo sotto figura d’agnello le imprese d’un leone. Ha davvero superato l’attesa meglio di quanto voi dobbiate attendervi ch’io vi dica come.
LEONATO	Ha uno zio qui a Messina che ne sarà molto lieto.
MESSAGGERO	Gli ho già consegnato delle lettere, e in lui appare molta gioia—tanta, anzi, che la gioia non poteva mostrarsi abbastanza modesta senza un segno d’amarezza.
LEONATO	Proruppe in lacrime?
MESSAGGERO	In gran misura.
LEONATO	Un dolce traboccare di tenerezza: non vi sono volti più sinceri di quelli così lavati. Quanto è meglio piangere di gioia che gioire del pianto!
BEATRICE	Di grazia, il signor Montanto è tornato dalla guerra, o no?
MESSAGGERO	Non conosco nessuno di quel nome, madonna. Non v’era alcuno così nell’esercito, di nessun grado.
LEONATO	Di chi chiedi, nipote?
ERO	Mia cugina intende il signor Benedetto di Padova.
MESSAGGERO	Oh, è tornato, e allegro come sempre.
BEATRICE	Aveva affisso qui a Messina i suoi cartelli, e sfidato Cupido al tiro con l’arco; e il buffone di mio zio, letta la sfida, firmò in vece di Cupido e lo sfidò al dardo da uccelli. Di grazia, quanti ne ha uccisi e mangiati in questa guerra? Ma quanti ne ha uccisi? Ché in verità avevo promesso di mangiare tutti quelli che avesse ucciso.
LEONATO	In fede mia, nipote, tu tassi troppo il signor Benedetto. Ma egli saprà tenerti testa, non ne dubito.
MESSAGGERO	Ha reso buon servizio, madonna, in questa guerra.
BEATRICE	Avevate vettovaglie ammuffite, ed egli ha aiutato a mangiarle. È un valorosissimo campione di tavola, ha uno stomaco eccellente.
MESSAGGERO	E anche un buon soldato, madonna.
BEATRICE	E buon soldato con una dama; ma che cos’è con un signore?
MESSAGGERO	Un signore con un signore, un uomo con un uomo, imbottito d’ogni onorevole virtù.
BEATRICE	È così, davvero. Non è altro che un uomo imbottito. Ma quanto all’imbottitura—be’, siamo tutti mortali.
LEONATO	Non dovete, signore, fraintendere mia nipote. C’è una specie d’allegra guerra fra il signor Benedetto e lei. Non s’incontrano mai senza che tra loro scoppi una scaramuccia d’arguzia. 61
BEATRICE	Ahimè, non ci guadagna nulla. Nell’ultimo scontro quattro dei suoi cinque sensi se ne andarono zoppicando, e ora l’uomo intero è governato da uno solo, sicché se ha spirito bastante a tenersi caldo, se lo porti pure come segno di differenza fra sé e il suo cavallo, ché è tutta la ricchezza che gli resta per essere riconosciuto creatura ragionevole. Chi è adesso il suo compagno? Ha ogni mese un nuovo fratello giurato.
MESSAGGERO	È possibile?
BEATRICE	Possibilissimo. Porta la sua fede come la foggia del cappello: cambia sempre con la forma nuova.
MESSAGGERO	Vedo, madonna, che il gentiluomo non è nei vostri libri.
BEATRICE	No. Se ci fosse, brucerei il mio studio. Ma ditemi, di grazia, chi è il suo compagno? Non c’è ora qualche giovane spadaccino che voglia fare con lui il viaggio al diavolo?
MESSAGGERO	Sta più che altro in compagnia del nobilissimo Claudio.
BEATRICE	O Signore, gli si attaccherà addosso come una malattia. Si prende più presto della peste, e chi la piglia impazzisce all’istante. Dio aiuti il nobile Claudio. Se ha preso il Benedetto, gli costerà mille sterline prima d’esserne guarito.
MESSAGGERO	Voglio restare amico vostro, madonna.
BEATRICE	Restatelo, buon amico.
LEONATO	Tu non impazzirai mai, nipote.
BEATRICE	No, non prima d’un gennaio bollente.
MESSAGGERO	Don Pedro si avvicina.
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedetto, Baldassarre, e Don Juan il bastardo
DON PEDRO	Buon signor Leonato, venite incontro al vostro fastidio? È costume del mondo evitare la spesa, e voi l’andate a cercare.
LEONATO	Mai giunse fastidio alla mia casa sotto le sembianze di vostra grazia; ché, andato via il fastidio, dovrebbe restare il conforto; ma quando voi partite da me, resta il dolore e la felicità prende congedo.
DON PEDRO	Abbracciate il vostro carico troppo volentieri. Penso che questa sia vostra figlia.
LEONATO	Sua madre me l’ha detto molte volte.
BENEDETTO	Eravate in dubbio, signore, per averglielo chiesto?
LEONATO	Signor Benedetto, no, ché allora voi eravate un bambino.
DON PEDRO	L’avete presa in pieno, Benedetto. Possiamo indovinare da questo che cosa siate, essendo uomo. In verità, la dama si fa padre da sé. Siate felice, madonna, ché somigliate a un padre onorevole.
BENEDETTO	Se il signor Leonato è suo padre, ella non vorrebbe la testa di lui sulle proprie spalle per tutta Messina, per quanto gli somigli.
BEATRICE	Mi meraviglio che continuiate a parlare, signor Benedetto. Nessuno vi bada.
BENEDETTO	Come, mia cara Madonna Sdegno! Siete ancora viva?
BEATRICE	È possibile che lo sdegno muoia, mentre ha per nutrirsi cibo così adatto come il signor Benedetto? La cortesia stessa deve convertirsi in sdegno, se voi le venite innanzi.
BENEDETTO	Allora la cortesia è una voltagabbana. Ma è certo che sono amato da tutte le dame, voi sola eccettuata. E vorrei poter trovare in cuor mio di non avere un cuore duro, ché in verità non amo nessuna.
BEATRICE	Cara fortuna per le donne. Altrimenti sarebbero state molestate da un pernicioso pretendente. Ringrazio Dio e il mio sangue freddo se in questo sono del vostro umore. Preferirei sentire il mio cane abbaiare a una cornacchia che un uomo giurare che m’ama.
BENEDETTO	Dio mantenga vossignoria sempre in quella disposizione. Così qualche gentiluomo scamperà a una faccia graffiata per destino.
BEATRICE	Graffiarla non potrebbe peggiorarla, se fosse una faccia come la vostra. BENEDETTO Bene, siete un raro maestro di pappagalli.
BEATRICE	Un uccello della mia lingua val meglio d’una bestia della vostra.
BENEDETTO	Vorrei che il mio cavallo avesse la velocità della vostra lingua, e altrettanta resistenza. Ma seguite pure la vostra strada, in nome di Dio. Io ho finito.
BEATRICE	Voi finite sempre con un trucco da ronzino. Vi conosco da un pezzo.
DON PEDRO	Questo è il succo di tutto, Leonato. Signor Claudio e signor Benedetto, il mio caro amico Leonato vi ha invitati tutti. Gli dico che ci fermeremo qui almeno un mese, ed egli prega di cuore che qualche occasione ci trattenga più a lungo. Oso giurare che non è ipocrita, ma prega dal cuore.
LEONATO	Se giurate, mio signore, non sarete spergiuro. (A Don Juan) Lasciate che vi dia il benvenuto, mio signore. Essendovi riconciliato col Principe vostro fratello, vi devo ogni ossequio.
DON JUAN	Vi ringrazio. Non sono uomo di molte parole, ma vi ringrazio.
LEONATO	(a Don Pedro) Piaccia a vostra grazia aprire il cammino?
DON PEDRO	La vostra mano, Leonato. Andremo insieme. Escono tutti tranne Benedetto e Claudio
CLAUDIO	Benedetto, hai notato la figlia del signor Leonato?
BENEDETTO	Non l’ho notata, ma l’ho guardata.
CLAUDIO	Non è una giovane dama piena di modestia?
BENEDETTO	Mi interroghi come deve fare un uomo onesto, per avere il mio semplice e schietto giudizio, o vuoi che parli secondo il mio costume, da dichiarato tiranno del loro sesso?
CLAUDIO	No, ti prego, parla con giudizio pacato.
BENEDETTO	Ebbene, in fede mia, mi pare troppo bassa per un’alta lode, troppo bruna per una lode di bellezza, e troppo piccola per una grande lode. Solo questa raccomandazione posso concederle: che se fosse altro da quel che è, sarebbe brutta; e non essendo altro che quel che è, non mi piace.
CLAUDIO	Tu credi ch’io scherzi. Ti prego, dimmi davvero come ti piace.
BENEDETTO	La vorresti comprare, che ne domandi tanto?
CLAUDIO	Può il mondo comprare un tal gioiello?
BENEDETTO	Sì, e anche un astuccio per riporlo. Ma parli con fronte grave, o fai il buffone beffardo, per dirci che Cupido è un buon cacciatore di lepri e Vulcano un raro falegname? Suvvia, in quale tono deve prenderti un uomo per entrare nella canzone?
CLAUDIO	Al mio occhio è la più dolce dama ch’io abbia mai guardato.
BENEDETTO	Io ci vedo ancora senza occhiali, e non vedo nulla di simile. C’è sua cugina che, se non fosse posseduta da una furia, la supera in bellezza quanto il primo di maggio supera l’ultimo di dicembre. Ma spero che tu non abbia intenzione di farti marito, o sì?
CLAUDIO	Non mi fiderei di me stesso, avessi pure giurato il contrario, se Ero volesse essere mia moglie.
BENEDETTO	Siamo a questo punto? In fede mia, non c’è al mondo un solo uomo che non voglia portare il berretto col sospetto? Non vedrò mai più uno scapolo di sessant’anni? Suvvia, in fede mia, se proprio vuoi ficcare il collo nel giogo, portane l’impronta e consuma le domeniche a sospirare. Guarda, Don Pedro è tornato a cercarti. Entra Don Pedro
DON PEDRO	Qual segreto vi ha trattenuti qui, che non ci avete seguiti da Leonato?
BENEDETTO	Vorrei che vostra grazia mi costringesse a dirlo.
DON PEDRO	Te lo ordino sulla tua fedeltà.
BENEDETTO	Udite, conte Claudio? So essere segreto come un muto, vorrei che lo credeste. Ma sulla mia fedeltà, badate a questo, sulla mia fedeltà! Egli è innamorato. Di chi? Ora questa è la parte di vostra grazia. Notate quanto è breve la sua risposta: di Ero, la piccola figlia di Leonato.
CLAUDIO	Se ciò fosse vero, sarebbe detto così.
BENEDETTO	Come nella vecchia storia, mio signore—non è così, né fu così, ma davvero, Dio non voglia che sia così.
CLAUDIO	Se la mia passione non muta presto, Dio non voglia che sia altrimenti.
DON PEDRO	Amen, se voi l’amate, ché la dama ne è ben degna.
CLAUDIO	Dite questo per tirarmi in trappola, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	In fede mia, dico il mio pensiero.
CLAUDIO	E in fede mia, mio signore, io ho detto il mio.
BENEDETTO	E per le mie due fedi e i miei due giuramenti, mio signore, io ho detto il mio.
CLAUDIO	Che io l’ami, lo sento.
DON PEDRO	Che ella ne sia degna, lo so.
BENEDETTO	Che io né senta come debba essere amata né sappia come debba esserne degna, è l’opinione che il fuoco non può fondere in me. Morirò in essa sul rogo.
DON PEDRO	Sei sempre stato un ostinato eretico a dispetto della bellezza.
CLAUDIO	E non ha mai saputo sostenere la sua parte se non con la forza della sua volontà.
BENEDETTO	Che una donna mi abbia concepito, la ringrazio. Che mi abbia allevato, le rendo del pari umilissime grazie. Ma che io debba avere una fanfara di corno suonata sulla fronte, o appendere il mio corno a una bandoliera invisibile, tutte le donne mi perdonino. Poiché non voglio far loro il torto di diffidare d’alcuna, farò a me stesso il diritto di non fidarmi di nessuna. E la conclusione è—e per essa potrò andare più elegante—che vivrò scapolo.
DON PEDRO	Ti vedrò, prima di morire, impallidire d’amore.
BENEDETTO	D’ira, di malattia o di fame, mio signore; non d’amore. Provate che io perda mai più sangue per amore di quanto ne riacquisti col bere, e cavatemi gli occhi con la penna d’un ballatiere e appendetemi alla porta d’un bordello come insegna del cieco Cupido.
DON PEDRO	Bene, se mai cadrai da questa fede, ti dimostrerai un argomento notevole.
BENEDETTO	Se lo farò, appendetemi in una bottiglia come un gatto, e tirate su di me; e chi mi colpisce, gli si batta la mano sulla spalla e lo si chiami Adamo.
DON PEDRO	Bene, come il tempo proverà. «Col tempo il toro selvaggio porta il giogo.»
BENEDETTO	Il toro selvaggio potrà; ma se mai il savio Benedetto lo porterà, strappate le corna al toro e piantatemele in fronte, e lasciate che io sia dipinto vilmente, e in lettere così grandi come si scrive «Qui si affittano buoni cavalli» facciano scrivere sotto la mia insegna: «Qui potete vedere Benedetto, l’uomo ammogliato».
CLAUDIO	Se ciò dovesse mai accadere, saresti pazzo di corna.
DON PEDRO	Anzi, se Cupido non ha scaricato tutta la sua faretra a Venezia, tremerai presto per questo.
BENEDETTO	Allora m’aspetto anche un terremoto.
DON PEDRO	Bene, temporeggerai con le ore. Nel frattempo, buon signor Benedetto, recati da Leonato, porgigli i miei saluti e digli che non gli mancherò a cena, ché in verità ha fatto grandi preparativi.
BENEDETTO	Ho in me materia quasi bastante per una tale ambasciata. E così vi affido—
CLAUDIO	Alla tutela di Dio, dalla mia casa, se ne avessi una—
DON PEDRO	Il sei di luglio, Il vostro amorevole amico, Benedetto.
BENEDETTO	Suvvia, non beffate, non beffate. Il corpo del vostro discorso è talvolta guarnito di ritagli, e le guarnizioni sono imbastite solo alla leggera. Prima di canzonare più oltre le vecchie chiuse, esaminate la vostra coscienza. E con ciò vi lascio. Esce
CLAUDIO	Mio sire, vostra altezza può ora farmi del bene.
DON PEDRO	Il mio amore è tuo da istruire. Insegnagli solo come, e vedrai quanto è pronto a imparare ogni dura lezione che possa giovarti.
CLAUDIO	Ha Leonato qualche figlio, mio signore?
DON PEDRO	Nessun figlio tranne Ero. È la sua unica erede. La ami tu, Claudio?
CLAUDIO	Oh, mio signore, quando partiste per questa impresa ormai finita io la guardai con occhio di soldato, che gradiva, ma aveva per le mani compito più aspro che spingere il gradimento fino al nome d’amore. Ma ora sono tornato, e poiché i pensieri di guerra hanno lasciato vuoti i loro seggi, nelle loro stanze vengono in folla desideri molli e delicati, tutti a suggerirmi quanto è bella la giovane Ero, dicendomi che mi piaceva prima ch’io andassi alla guerra.
DON PEDRO	Sarai presto simile a un innamorato, e stancherai chi t’ascolta con un libro di parole. Se tu ami la bella Ero, serba quest’amore, e io ne parlerò a lei, e a suo padre, e tu l’avrai. Non era a questo fine che cominciasti a intessere una storia così sottile?
CLAUDIO	Con quanta dolcezza voi soccorrete l’amore, voi che conoscete la pena d’amore dal suo colorito! Ma perché il mio gradimento non paresse troppo improvviso avrei voluto medicarlo con un più lungo trattato.
DON PEDRO	Che bisogno c’è che il ponte sia più largo del fiume? Il dono più bello è ciò che serve al bisogno. Guarda: ciò che basta è ciò che conviene. Tanto basta: tu ami, e io ti fornirò il rimedio. So che stanotte avremo festa e danze. Assumerò la tua parte sotto qualche travestimento, e dirò alla bella Ero che io sono Claudio. E nel suo seno schiuderò il mio cuore e farò prigioniero il suo udito con la forza e il forte assalto del mio amoroso racconto. Poi ne parlerò a suo padre, e la conclusione è che ella sarà tua. Mettiamolo subito in pratica. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato and Antonio, an old man brother to Leonato, severally
LEONATO	How now, brother, where is my cousin, your son? Hath he provided this music? ANTONIO, He is very busy about it. But brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamt not of.
LEONATO	Are they good? ANTONIO, 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 mine orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine: the Prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece, your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if he found her accordant he meant to take the present time by the top and instantly break with you of it.
LEONATO	Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
ANTONIO	A good sharp fellow. I will send for him, and question him yourself.
(didascalia)	LEONATO 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. Enter attendants Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you mercy, friend. Go you with me and I will use your skill.—Good cousin, have a care this busy time. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato e Antonio, un vecchio fratello di Leonato, da parti opposte
LEONATO	Ebbene, fratello, dov’è mio nipote, vostro figlio? Ha provveduto a questa musica? ANTONIO, Ci sta lavorando alacremente. Ma, fratello, posso darvi strane notizie che ancora non avete sognato.
LEONATO	Sono buone? ANTONIO, Come l’esito le segnerà. Ma hanno una bella copertina, fanno bella figura di fuori. Il Principe e il conte Claudio, passeggiando in un viale di fitto pergolato nel mio frutteto, furono uditi fin qui da un mio uomo: il Principe rivelò a Claudio che amava mia nipote, vostra figlia, e intendeva dichiararlo questa notte durante una danza; e se l’avesse trovata consenziente, intendeva prendere il tempo presente per il ciuffo e parlarne subito con voi.
LEONATO	Ha giudizio quel tale che vi ha riferito questo?
ANTONIO	Un uomo di buon acume. Manderò a chiamarlo, e interrogatelo voi stesso.
(didascalia)	LEONATO No, no. Lo terremo per un sogno finché non si mostri da sé. Ma ne informerò mia figlia, perché sia meglio preparata a una risposta, se per avventura questo fosse vero. Andate voi e ditelo a lei. Entrano i servitori. Nipoti, sapete quel che avete da fare. Oh, chiedo venia, amico. Venite con me e mi servirò della vostra abilità.—Buon nipote, abbi cura in questo tempo affaccendato. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don John the bastard and Conrad, his companion
CONRAD	What the goodyear, my lord, why are you thus out of measure sad?
DON JOHN	There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit.
CONRAD	You should hear reason. DON JOHN And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it?
CONRAD	If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
DON JOHN	I wonder that thou—being, as thou sayst 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 on no man’s business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour.
CONRAD	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.
DON JOHN	I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be disdained 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 but 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.
CONRAD	Can you make no use of your discontent?
DON JOHN	I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here?
(didascalia)	Enter Borachio
DON JOHN	What news, Borachio?
BORACHIO	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.
DON JOHN	Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness?
BORACHIO	Marry, it is your brother’s right hand.
DON JOHN	Who, the most exquisite Claudio?
BORACHIO	Even he.
DON JOHN	A proper squire. And who, and who? Which way looks he?
BORACHIO	Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
DON JOHN	A very forward March chick. How came you to this?
BORACHIO	Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room comes me the Prince and Claudio hand in hand, in sad conference. I whipped me behind the arras, and there heard it agreed upon that the Prince should woo Hero for himself and, having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
DON JOHN	Come, come, let us thither. This may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow. If I can cross him any way I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
CONRAD	To the death, my lord.
DON JOHN	Let us to the great supper. Their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were o’ my mind. Shall we go prove what’s to be done?
BORACHIO	We’ll wait upon your lordship.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Juan il bastardo e Corrado, suo compagno
CORRADO	Che diamine, mio signore, perché siete così smisuratamente triste?
DON JUAN	Non c’è misura nella causa che la genera, perciò la tristezza è senza limite.
CORRADO	Dovreste dare ascolto alla ragione. DON JUAN E quando l’avrò ascoltata, quale benedizione ne viene?
CORRADO	Se non un rimedio immediato, almeno una paziente sopportazione.
DON JUAN	Mi meraviglio che tu—essendo, come dici d’essere, nato sotto Saturno—cerchi di applicare una medicina morale a un male mortificante. Non posso nascondere ciò che sono. Debbo essere triste quando ne ho motivo, e non sorridere alle facezie di nessuno; mangiare quando ho appetito, e non attendere il comodo di nessuno; dormire quando ho sonno, e non badare agli affari di nessuno; ridere quando sono allegro, e non blandire nessuno secondo il suo umore.
CORRADO	Sì, ma non dovete darne piena mostra finché non possiate farlo senza freno. Di recente vi siete opposto a vostro fratello, ed egli vi ha or ora ripreso nella sua grazia, dove è impossibile che voi metta radice vera se non col bel tempo che vi procurate da voi stesso. È necessario che prepariate la stagione per il vostro proprio raccolto.
DON JUAN	Preferirei essere un rovo di siepe che una rosa nella sua grazia, e meglio si confà al mio sangue essere sdegnato da tutti che foggiarmi un contegno per rubare l’amore a chicchessia. In questo, benché non si possa dire ch’io sia un onest’uomo adulatore, non si può negare ch’io sia un malvagio che agisce alla scoperta. Mi si dà fiducia con una museruola, e mi si affranca con un ceppo. Perciò ho decretato di non cantare nella mia gabbia. Se avessi la bocca libera, morderei. Se avessi la mia libertà, farei a modo mio. Nel frattempo, lasciatemi essere quel che sono, e non cercate di mutarmi.
CORRADO	Non potete fare alcun uso del vostro scontento?
DON JUAN	Ne faccio ogni uso, ché uso soltanto quello. Chi viene qui?
(didascalia)	Entra Borachio
DON JUAN	Che notizie, Borachio?
BORACHIO	Vengo di là, da una gran cena. Il Principe vostro fratello è regalmente ospitato da Leonato, e posso darvi notizia d’un matrimonio progettato.
DON JUAN	Servirà come modello su cui costruire qualche danno? Che razza di pazzo è colui che si fidanza con l’inquietudine?
BORACHIO	Perbacco, è il braccio destro di vostro fratello.
DON JUAN	Chi, il squisitissimo Claudio?
BORACHIO	Proprio lui.
DON JUAN	Un bel damerino. E chi, e chi? Da che parte guarda?
BORACHIO	Perbacco, verso Ero, la figlia ed erede di Leonato.
DON JUAN	Una pulcina di marzo assai precoce. Come siete venuto a saperlo?
BORACHIO	Assunto come profumiere, mentre affumicavo una stanza ammuffita, ecco venirmi incontro il Principe e Claudio mano nella mano, in grave conversazione. Mi ficcai dietro l’arazzo, e là udii convenirsi che il Principe corteggiasse Ero per sé e, ottenutala, la desse al conte Claudio.
DON JUAN	Andiamo, andiamo là. Questo può diventare cibo per il mio dispetto. Quel giovane rampante ha tutta la gloria della mia rovina. Se posso attraversargli la strada in qualche modo, mi benedico in ogni modo. Siete entrambi fidati, e mi assisterete?
CORRADO	Fino alla morte, mio signore.
DON JUAN	Andiamo alla gran cena. La loro allegria è tanto maggiore ora che io sono sottomesso. Volesse il cielo che il cuoco fosse del mio parere. Andiamo a saggiare che cosa si può fare?
BORACHIO	Siamo agli ordini di vossignoria.
(didascalia)	Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio his brother, Hero his daughter, Beatrice his niece, Margaret, and Ursula
LEONATO	Was not Count John here at supper?
ANTONIO	I saw him not.
BEATRICE	How tartly that gentleman looks. I never can see him but I am heartburned an hour after.
HERO	He is of a very melancholy disposition.
BEATRICE	He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick. The one is too like an image and says nothing, and the other too like my lady’s eldest son, evermore tattling.
LEONATO	Then half Signor Benedick’s tongue in Count John’s mouth, and half Count John’s melancholy in Signor Benedick’s face—
BEATRICE	With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse—such a man would win any woman in the world, if a could get her good will.
LEONATO	By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
ANTONIO	In faith, she’s too curst.
BEATRICE	Too curst is more than curst. I shall lessen God’s sending that way, for it is said God sends a curst cow short horns, but to a cow too curst he sends none.
LEONATO	So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.
BEATRICE	just, if he send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in the woollen.
LEONATO	You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
BEATRICE	What should I do with him—dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him. Therefore I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bearherd and lead his apes into hell.
LEONATO	Well then, go you into hell?
BEATRICE	No, but to the gate, and there will the devil meet me like an old cuckold with horns on his head, and say, ‘Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven. Here’s no place for you maids.’ So deliver I up my apes and away to Saint Peter fore the heavens. He shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.
ANTONIO	(to Hero) Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.
BEATRICE	Yes, faith, it is my cousin’s duty to make curtsy and say, ‘Father, as it please you.’ But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say, ‘Father, as it please me.’
LEONATO	Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE	Not till God make men of some other mettle than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust?—to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I’ll none. Adam’s sons are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.
LEONATO	(to Hero) Daughter, remember what I told you. If the Prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.
BEATRICE	The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time. If the Prince be too important, tell him there is measure in everything, and so dance out the answer. For hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinquepace. The first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig—and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry. And then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster and faster till he sink into his grave.
LEONATO	Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
BEATRICE	I have a good eye, uncle. I can see a church by daylight.
LEONATO	The revellers are entering, brother. Make good room.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Balthasar, all masked, Don John, and Borachio, with a drummer
DON PEDRO	(to Hero) Lady, will you walk a bout 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. They move aside
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR (to Margaret) Well, I would you did like me.
MARGARET	So would not I, for your own sake, for I have many ill qualities.
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR Which is one?
MARGARET	I say my prayers aloud.
(didascalia)	BALTHASAR I love you the better—the hearers may cry amen.
MARGARET	God match me with a good dancer.
BALTHASAR	Amen.
MARGARET	And God keep him. out of my sight when the dance is done. Answer, clerk.
BALTHASAR	No more words. The clerk is answered. They move aside
URSULA	(to Antonio) I know you well enough, you are Signor Antonio.
ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
URSULA	I know you by the waggling of your head.
ANTONIO	To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
URSULA	You could never do him so ill-well unless you were the very man. Here’s his dry hand up and down. You are he, you are he.
ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
URSULA	Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he. Graces will appear, and there’s an end. They move aside
BEATRICE	(to Benedick) Will you not tell me who told you so? 115 BENEDICK No, you shall pardon me.
BEATRICE	Nor will you not tell me who you are?
BENEDICK	Not now.
BEATRICE	That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the Hundred Merry Tales—well, this was Signor Benedick that said so. BENEDICK What’s he?
BEATRICE	I am sure you know him well enough.
BENEDICK	Not I, believe me.
BEATRICE	Did he never make you laugh?
BENEDICK	I pray you, what is he?
BEATRICE	Why, he is the Prince’s jester, a very dull fool. Only his gift is in devising impossible slanders. None but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit but in his villainy, for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him. I am sure he is in the fleet. I would he had boarded me.
BENEDICK	When I know the gentleman, I’ll tell him what you say.
BEATRICE	Do, do. He’ll but break a comparison or two on me, which peradventure not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy, and then there’s a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night.
(didascalia)	Music
BEATRICE	We must follow the leaders.
BENEDICK	In every good thing.
BEATRICE	Nay, if they lead to any ill I will leave them at the next turning. Dance. Exeunt all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio
DON JOHN	(aside to Borachio) Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her, and but one visor remains.
BORACHIO	(aside to Don John) And that is Claudio. I know him by his bearing.
DON JOHN	Are not you Signor Benedick?
CLAUDIO	You know me well. I am he.
DON JOHN	Signor, you are very near my brother in his love. He is enamoured on Hero. I pray you dissuade him from her. She is no equal for his birth. You may do the part of an honest man in it.
CLAUDIO	How know you he loves her?
DON JOHN	I heard him swear his affection.
BORACHIO	So did I, too, and he swore he would marry her tonight.
DON JOHN	Come, let us to the banquet. Exeunt all but Claudio
CLAUDIO	Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. ’Tis certain so, the Prince woos for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero.
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
BENEDICK	Count Claudio?
CLAUDIO	Yea, the same.
BENEDICK	Come, will you go with me?
CLAUDIO	Whither?
BENEDICK	Even to the next willow, about your own business, County. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like an usurer’s chain? Or under your arm, like a lieutenant’s scarf? You must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.
CLAUDIO	I wish him joy of her.
BENEDICK	Why, that’s spoken like an honest drover; so they sell bullocks. But did you think the Prince would have served you thus?
CLAUDIO	I pray you leave me.
BENEDICK	Ho, now you strike like the blind man—’twas the boy that stole your meat, and you’ll beat the post.
CLAUDIO	If it will not be, I’ll leave you. Exit
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. Enter Don Pedro the Prince
DON PEDRO	Now, signor, 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 bird’s 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 bird’s 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.
(didascalia)	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 had 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. Enter Claudio and Beatrice, and Leonato with Hero
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. Exit
DON PEDRO	Come, lady, come, you have lost the heart of Signor Benedick.
BEATRICE	Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while, 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?
CLAUDIO	Neither, my lord.
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.
LEONATO	Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His grace hath made the match, and all grace say amen to it.
BEATRICE	Speak, Count, ’tis your cue.
CLAUDIO	Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much. (To Hero) Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange.
BEATRICE	(to Hero) 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	Yea, my lord, I thank it. Poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care.—My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.
CLAUDIO	And so she doth, cousin.
BEATRICE	Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes everyone 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 o’ question, you were born in a merry hour.
BEATRICE	No, sure, my lord, my mother cried. But then there was a star danced, and under that was I born. (To Hero and Claudio) Cousins, God give you joy.
LEONATO	Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
BEATRICE	I cry you mercy, uncle. (To Don Pedro) By your grace’s pardon. Exit Beatrice
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 dreamt 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 Benedick.
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?
CLAUDIO	Tomorrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.
LEONATO	Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just sevennight, 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 Signor Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection th‘one with th’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.
LEONATO	My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights’ watchings.
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. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato, Antonio suo fratello, Ero sua figlia, Beatrice sua nipote, Margherita e Orsola
LEONATO	Non c’era il conte Juan qui a cena?
ANTONIO	Io non l’ho visto.
BEATRICE	Che aria acida ha quel gentiluomo. Non riesco a vederlo senza avere il bruciore di stomaco un’ora dopo.
ERO	È d’indole assai malinconica.
BEATRICE	Sarebbe un uomo eccellente quello fatto giusto a mezza via tra lui e Benedetto. L’uno somiglia troppo a una statua e non dice nulla, e l’altro troppo al figlio maggiore di madonna, sempre a cinguettare.
LEONATO	Dunque metà della lingua del signor Benedetto nella bocca del conte Juan, e metà della malinconia del conte Juan sul volto del signor Benedetto—
BEATRICE	Con una bella gamba e un bel piede, zio, e denaro bastante nella borsa—un uomo simile conquisterebbe qualunque donna al mondo, se riuscisse a ottenerne il consenso.
LEONATO	In fede mia, nipote, non ti troverai mai un marito, se sarai tanto tagliente di lingua.
ANTONIO	In fede mia, è troppo bisbetica.
BEATRICE	Troppo bisbetica è più che bisbetica. Ridurrò quel che Dio manda da quella parte, ché si dice che Dio manda alla vacca bisbetica corna corte, ma alla vacca troppo bisbetica non ne manda affatto.
LEONATO	Così, per essere troppo bisbetica, Dio non ti manderà corna.
BEATRICE	giusto, se non mi manda marito; per la qual benedizione lo assedio in ginocchio ogni mattina e ogni sera. Signore, non potrei sopportare un marito con la barba sul viso. Preferirei giacere fra le lane.
LEONATO	Potresti imbatterti in un marito che non ha barba.
BEATRICE	E che ne farei—lo vestirei dei miei abiti e ne farei la mia damigella di compagnia? Chi ha la barba è più che un giovanetto, e chi non ha barba è meno che un uomo; e chi è più che un giovanetto non fa per me, e a chi è meno che un uomo non faccio io. Perciò prenderò senz’altro sei pence a caparra dal domatore d’orsi e condurrò le sue scimmie all’inferno.
LEONATO	Bene, allora vai all’inferno?
BEATRICE	No, solo fino alla porta; e là il diavolo mi verrà incontro come un vecchio becco con le corna in testa, e dirà: «Vattene in paradiso, Beatrice, vattene in paradiso. Qui non c’è posto per voi zitelle.» Così consegno le mie scimmie e via da San Pietro, davanti ai cieli. Egli mi mostra dove siedono gli scapoli, e là viviamo allegri quanto è lungo il giorno.
ANTONIO	(a Ero) Bene, nipote, confido che ti lascerai guidare da tuo padre.
BEATRICE	Sì, in fede mia, è dovere di mia cugina fare la riverenza e dire: «Padre, come vi piace.» Ma con tutto ciò, cugina, che sia un bel giovane; altrimenti fa’ un’altra riverenza e di’: «Padre, come piace a me.»
LEONATO	Bene, nipote, spero di vederti un giorno provvista d’un marito.
BEATRICE	Non prima che Dio faccia gli uomini d’altra tempra che di terra. Non addolorerebbe una donna essere signoreggiata da un pezzo di valorosa polvere?—rendere conto della propria vita a una zolla di marna capricciosa? No, zio, non ne voglio. I figli d’Adamo sono miei fratelli, e in verità ritengo peccato accasarmi fra i miei parenti.
LEONATO	(a Ero) Figlia, ricorda quel che t’ho detto. Se il Principe ti sollecita in tal senso, sai la tua risposta.
BEATRICE	La colpa sarà della musica, cugina, se non sarai corteggiata a tempo giusto. Se il Principe si fa troppo insistente, digli che in ogni cosa c’è misura, e danza via la risposta. Ché ascoltami, Ero: corteggiare, sposare e pentirsi è come una giga scozzese, una pavana e una cinquepassi. La prima domanda è calda e frettolosa, come una giga scozzese—e altrettanto stravagante; le nozze compostamente modeste, come una pavana, piene di solennità e d’antichità. E poi viene il pentimento, e con le sue gambe malferme cade nella cinquepassi sempre più in fretta, finché sprofonda nella sua tomba.
LEONATO	Cugina, tu comprendi con acume straordinario.
BEATRICE	Ho buon occhio, zio. So vedere una chiesa in pieno giorno.
LEONATO	Entrano le maschere, fratello. Fate largo.
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedetto e Baldassarre, tutti mascherati, Don Juan e Borachio, con un tamburino
DON PEDRO	(a Ero) Madonna, volete fare un giro col vostro amico?
ERO	Purché camminiate piano, guardiate dolcemente e non diciate nulla, sono vostra per la passeggiata; e specialmente quando me ne vado.
DON PEDRO	Con me in vostra compagnia?
ERO	Posso dirlo quando mi piace.
DON PEDRO	E quando vi piacerà dirlo?
ERO	Quando mi piacerà il vostro volto; ché Dio non voglia che il liuto somigli alla custodia.
DON PEDRO	La mia maschera è il tetto di Filemone. Dentro la casa c’è Giove.
ERO	Ebbene, allora la vostra maschera dovrebbe essere di paglia.
DON PEDRO	Parlate piano se parlate d’amore. Si spostano in disparte
(didascalia)	BALDASSARRE (a Margherita) Bene, vorrei che vi piacessi.
MARGHERITA	Io no, per amor vostro, ché ho molte cattive qualità.
(didascalia)	BALDASSARRE Quale, per esempio?
MARGHERITA	Dico le mie preghiere ad alta voce.
(didascalia)	BALDASSARRE Vi amo tanto di più—chi ascolta potrà dire amen.
MARGHERITA	Dio mi accoppi con un buon ballerino.
BALDASSARRE	Amen.
MARGHERITA	E Dio lo tenga. lontano dalla mia vista quando la danza è finita. Rispondi, chierico.
BALDASSARRE	Basta parole. Il chierico ha risposto. Si spostano in disparte
ORSOLA	(ad Antonio) Vi conosco fin troppo bene, siete il signor Antonio.
ANTONIO	In una parola, non lo sono.
ORSOLA	Vi riconosco dal dondolare della testa.
ANTONIO	A dirvi il vero, lo contraffaccio.
ORSOLA	Non potreste mai imitarlo così male-bene se non foste proprio lui. Ecco la sua mano asciutta, tale e quale. Siete lui, siete lui.
ANTONIO	In una parola, non lo sono.
ORSOLA	Suvvia, suvvia, credete ch’io non vi riconosca dal vostro eccellente spirito? Può la virtù nascondersi? Andiamo, zitto, siete lui. Le grazie si mostrano, e non se ne parli più. Si spostano in disparte
BEATRICE	(a Benedetto) Non volete dirmi chi ve l’ha detto? 115 BENEDETTO No, dovete perdonarmi.
BEATRICE	E neppure volete dirmi chi siete?
BENEDETTO	Non ora.
BEATRICE	Che io ero sdegnosa, e che traevo il mio bello spirito dalle Cento allegre novelle—be’, è stato il signor Benedetto a dirlo. BENEDETTO E chi è costui?
BEATRICE	Son certa che lo conoscete fin troppo bene.
BENEDETTO	Io no, credetemi.
BEATRICE	Non vi ha mai fatto ridere?
BENEDETTO	Vi prego, chi è?
BEATRICE	Ebbene, è il buffone del Principe, un pazzo assai insulso. Il suo solo talento sta nell’inventare calunnie impossibili. Nessuno se non i libertini si diletta di lui, e la lode non sta nel suo spirito ma nella sua bassezza, ché insieme piace agli uomini e li irrita; e allora ridono di lui, e lo bastonano. Sono certa che è nella flotta. Vorrei che mi avesse abbordata.
BENEDETTO	Quando conoscerò il gentiluomo, gli riferirò ciò che dite.
BEATRICE	Fatelo, fatelo. Non farà che spezzare su di me un paragone o due; il che, per avventura non notato, o non riso, lo getta nella malinconia, e allora c’è un’ala di pernice risparmiata, ché il pazzo non cenerà quella notte.
(didascalia)	Musica
BEATRICE	Dobbiamo seguire chi conduce.
BENEDETTO	In ogni cosa buona.
BEATRICE	Anzi, se conducono a qualcosa di male, li lascerò alla prima svolta. Danza. Escono tutti tranne Don Juan, Borachio e Claudio
DON JUAN	(in disparte, a Borachio) Certo mio fratello è innamorato di Ero, e ha tratto in disparte suo padre per parlargliene. Le dame la seguono, e resta una sola maschera.
BORACHIO	(in disparte, a Don Juan) E quella è Claudio. Lo riconosco dal portamento.
DON JUAN	Non siete voi il signor Benedetto?
CLAUDIO	Mi conoscete bene. Sono io.
DON JUAN	Signore, voi siete assai vicino a mio fratello nel suo amore. Egli è innamorato di Ero. Vi prego, distoglietelo da lei. Non è pari alla sua nascita. In ciò potete fare la parte d’un uomo onesto.
CLAUDIO	Come sapete che l’ama?
DON JUAN	L’ho udito giurare il suo affetto.
BORACHIO	Anch’io l’ho udito, e giurò che l’avrebbe sposata stanotte.
DON JUAN	Venite, andiamo al banchetto. Escono tutti tranne Claudio
CLAUDIO	Così rispondo in nome di Benedetto, ma odo questa mala novella con le orecchie di Claudio. È certo così: il Principe corteggia per sé. L’amicizia è costante in ogni altra cosa salvo che nell’ufficio e negli affari d’amore. Perciò tutti i cuori presi d’amore usino la propria lingua. Ogni occhio tratti per sé stesso, e non si fidi d’alcun mediatore; ché la bellezza è una strega contro i cui incanti la fede si scioglie in sangue. Questo è un caso di prova quotidiana, del quale io non diffidavo. Addio, dunque, Ero.
(didascalia)	Entra Benedetto
BENEDETTO	Conte Claudio?
CLAUDIO	Sì, proprio lui.
BENEDETTO	Venite, volete venire con me?
CLAUDIO	Dove?
BENEDETTO	Fino al primo salice, per i vostri stessi affari, conte. In che foggia porterete la ghirlanda? Al collo, come la catena d’un usuraio? O sotto il braccio, come la sciarpa d’un luogotenente? In un modo o nell’altro dovete portarla, ché il Principe si è preso la vostra Ero.
CLAUDIO	Gliene auguro gioia.
BENEDETTO	Ebbene, questo è parlare da onesto mercante di buoi; così si vendono i giovenchi. Ma pensavate che il Principe vi avrebbe servito a questo modo?
CLAUDIO	Vi prego, lasciatemi.
BENEDETTO	Oh, ora colpite come il cieco—fu il ragazzo a rubarvi la carne, e voi bastonate il palo.
CLAUDIO	Se non vuol essere altrimenti, vi lascerò io. Esce
BENEDETTO	Ahimè, povero uccello ferito, ora andrà a rintanarsi fra i giunchi. Ma che madonna Beatrice debba conoscermi, e non conoscermi! Il buffone del Principe! Ah, può darsi ch’io vada sotto quel titolo perché sono allegro. Sì, ma così sono disposto a farmi torto da me. Non ho questa fama. È l’indole bassa, benché aspra, di Beatrice che mette il mondo nella sua persona, e così mi giudica. Bene, mi vendicherò come potrò. Entra Don Pedro il Principe
DON PEDRO	Ora, signore, dov’è il Conte? L’avete visto?
BENEDETTO	In fede, mio signore, ho fatto la parte di madonna Fama. L’ho trovato qui malinconico come una capanna in una riserva di caccia. Gli ho detto—e credo d’avergli detto il vero—che vostra grazia si era guadagnata il consenso di questa giovane dama; e gli ho offerto la mia compagnia fino a un salice, o per fargli una ghirlanda, essendo abbandonato, o per legargli una verga, essendo degno d’essere frustato.
DON PEDRO	D’essere frustato—qual è la sua colpa?
BENEDETTO	La schietta trasgressione d’uno scolaro che, tutto felice d’aver trovato un nido d’uccelli, lo mostra al compagno, e quello glielo ruba.
DON PEDRO	Vuoi fare della fiducia una trasgressione? La trasgressione è in chi ruba.
BENEDETTO	Eppure non sarebbe stato male che la verga fosse fatta, e anche la ghirlanda; ché la ghirlanda avrebbe potuto portarla lui, e la verga avrebbe potuto donarla a voi, che, a quanto intendo, gli avete rubato il nido.
DON PEDRO	Non farò che insegnar loro a cantare, e li restituirò al proprietario.
BENEDETTO	Se il loro canto corrisponde al vostro dire, per la mia fede parlate onestamente.
DON PEDRO	Madonna Beatrice ha una lite con voi. Il gentiluomo che ha danzato con lei le ha detto che voi le fate molto torto.
(didascalia)	BENEDETTO Oh, mi ha maltrattato oltre la sopportazione d’un ceppo. Una quercia con una sola foglia verde le avrebbe risposto. La mia stessa maschera cominciò a prender vita e a bisticciare con lei. Mi disse—non pensando che fossi io—che ero il buffone del Principe, che ero più insulso d’un gran disgelo, ammucchiando frizzo su frizzo contro di me con tale incredibile destrezza che io stavo là come un uomo al bersaglio, con un intero esercito che gli tira addosso. Parla pugnali, e ogni parola trafigge. Se il suo fiato fosse terribile quanto le sue chiuse, non si potrebbe vivere accanto a lei: ammorberebbe fino alla Stella Polare. Non la sposerei nemmeno se fosse dotata di tutto ciò che Adamo si lasciò dietro prima di trasgredire. Avrebbe fatto girare lo spiedo a Ercole, sì, e gli avrebbe anche spaccato la clava per fare il fuoco. Suvvia, non parlate di lei. La troverete un’Ate infernale in bei panni. Volesse Dio che qualche dotto la scongiurasse, ché di certo, finché ella è qui, un uomo può vivere quieto all’inferno come in un santuario, e la gente pecca apposta perché vuole andarci; sicché in verità ogni inquietudine, orrore e turbamento la seguono. Entrano Claudio e Beatrice, e Leonato con Ero
DON PEDRO	Guardate, eccola che viene.
BENEDETTO	Vuole vostra grazia comandarmi qualche servizio fino ai confini del mondo? Andrò ora per la più lieve commissione agli Antipodi che vi venga in mente d’affidarmi. Vi andrò a prendere uno stuzzicadenti dall’ultimo pollice dell’Asia, vi porterò la misura del piede del Prete Gianni, vi coglierò un pelo dalla barba del Gran Khan, vi farò qualunque ambasciata presso i pigmei, piuttosto che scambiare tre parole con quest’arpia. Non avete alcun incarico per me?
DON PEDRO	Nessuno, se non desiderare la vostra buona compagnia.
BENEDETTO	O Dio, signore, ecco un piatto che non amo. Non posso sopportare madonna Lingua. Esce
DON PEDRO	Venite, madonna, venite, avete perduto il cuore del signor Benedetto.
BEATRICE	Davvero, mio signore, me lo prestò per un poco, e io gliene resi l’interesse, un cuore doppio per il suo scempio. Perbacco, una volta prima me lo vinse, con dadi falsi. Perciò vostra grazia può ben dire che l’ho perduto.
DON PEDRO	L’avete messo sotto, madonna, l’avete messo sotto.
BEATRICE	Purché non lo faccia lui a me, mio signore, ché non vorrei diventare madre di pazzi. Ho condotto qui il conte Claudio, che mi mandaste a cercare.
DON PEDRO	Ebbene, come va, Conte, perché siete triste?
CLAUDIO	Non triste, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	E come, allora? Malato?
CLAUDIO	Neppure, mio signore.
BEATRICE	Il Conte non è né triste, né malato, né allegro, né sano; ma conte civile, civile come un’arancia di Siviglia, e con qualcosa di quel colorito geloso.
DON PEDRO	In fede mia, madonna, credo che il vostro blasone dica il vero; benché voglia giurare che, se è così, la sua idea è falsa. Qua, Claudio, ho corteggiato in nome tuo, e la bella Ero è conquistata. Ne ho parlato a suo padre e ho ottenuto il suo consenso. Fissa il giorno del matrimonio, e Dio ti dia gioia.
LEONATO	Conte, prendete da me mia figlia, e con lei le mie sostanze. Sua grazia ha combinato il partito, e ogni grazia dica amen.
BEATRICE	Parlate, Conte, è la vostra battuta.
CLAUDIO	Il silenzio è il più perfetto araldo della gioia. Sarei ben poco felice se potessi dire quanto. (A Ero) Madonna, come voi siete mia, io sono vostro. Mi dono via per voi, e vado pazzo per lo scambio.
BEATRICE	(a Ero) Parla, cugina. O, se non puoi, tappagli la bocca con un bacio, e non lasciar parlare neppure lui.
DON PEDRO	In fede mia, madonna, avete un cuore allegro.
BEATRICE	Sì, mio signore, e lo ringrazio. Povero matto, si tiene sopravvento all’affanno.—Mia cugina gli dice all’orecchio che egli è nel suo cuore.
CLAUDIO	E così fa, cugina.
BEATRICE	Buon Dio, che parentado! Così tutti se ne vanno per il mondo, tranne me, e io resto bruciata dal sole. Posso sedermi in un cantuccio e gridare: «Ohimè, un marito!»
DON PEDRO	Madonna Beatrice, ve ne procurerò uno io.
BEATRICE	Preferirei averne uno procreato da vostro padre. Non ha vostra grazia un fratello simile a voi? Vostro padre generò eccellenti mariti, se una fanciulla potesse averne.
DON PEDRO	Volete me, madonna?
BEATRICE	No, mio signore, a meno che non ne potessi avere un altro per i giorni feriali. Vostra grazia è troppo preziosa da portare ogni giorno. Ma supplico vostra grazia, perdonatemi. Sono nata per dire solo scherzi e nulla di serio.
DON PEDRO	Il vostro silenzio più d’ogni cosa m’offende, e l’allegria vi si addice sopra tutto; ché fuori di dubbio siete nata in un’ora allegra.
BEATRICE	No davvero, mio signore, mia madre pianse. Ma allora danzò una stella, e sotto quella io nacqui. (A Ero e Claudio) Cugini, Dio vi dia gioia.
LEONATO	Nipote, vuoi badare a quelle cose di cui ti ho parlato?
BEATRICE	Chiedo venia, zio. (A Don Pedro) Col permesso di vostra grazia. Esce Beatrice
DON PEDRO	In fede mia, una dama di piacevole spirito.
LEONATO	C’è ben poco dell’elemento malinconico in lei, mio signore. Non è mai triste se non quando dorme, e neppure allora sempre; ché ho udito mia figlia dire che spesso ha sognato disgrazie e s’è svegliata ridendo.
DON PEDRO	Non sopporta di sentir parlare d’un marito.
LEONATO	Oh, in nessun modo. Con le sue beffe scoraggia tutti i pretendenti.
DON PEDRO	Sarebbe una moglie eccellente per Benedetto.
LEONATO	O Signore, mio signore, se fossero sposati anche una sola settimana si farebbero impazzire a forza di chiacchiere.
DON PEDRO	Conte Claudio, quando intendete andare in chiesa?
CLAUDIO	Domani, mio signore. Il tempo va con le stampelle finché l’amore non abbia tutti i suoi riti.
LEONATO	Non prima di lunedì, mio caro figlio, che è di qui a una giusta settimana; e anche quello è un tempo troppo breve perché ogni cosa risponda al mio desiderio.
DON PEDRO	Su, scuotete il capo per un’attesa così lunga; ma ti garantisco, Claudio, che il tempo non ci passerà noiosamente. Nel frattempo intraprenderò una delle fatiche d’Ercole, che è di condurre il signor Benedetto e madonna Beatrice a una montagna d’affetto l’uno per l’altra. Vorrei proprio che facessero coppia, e non dubito di riuscire a combinarla, purché voi tre mi prestiate quell’aiuto secondo le direttive che vi darò.
LEONATO	Mio signore, sono con voi, dovesse costarmi dieci notti di veglia.
CLAUDIO	E anch’io, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	E anche voi, gentile Ero?
ERO	Farò ogni modesto ufficio, mio signore, per aiutare mia cugina a trovare un buon marito.
DON PEDRO	E Benedetto non è il marito meno promettente ch’io conosca. Fin qui posso lodarlo: è di nobile stirpe, di provato valore e di comprovata onestà. Vi insegnerò come assecondare l’umore di vostra cugina, sì che ella cada in amore di Benedetto; e io, col vostro duplice aiuto, opererò tanto su Benedetto che, a dispetto del suo pronto ingegno e del suo stomaco schizzinoso, egli cadrà in amore di Beatrice. Se riusciamo a far questo, Cupido non è più arciere; la sua gloria sarà nostra, ché noi soli saremo dèi dell’amore. Venite dentro con me, e vi dirò il mio disegno. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don John and Borachio
DON JOHN	It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato.
BORACHIO	Yea, my lord, but I can cross it.
DON JOHN	Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me. I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?
BORACHIO	Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me.
DON JOHN	Show me briefly how.
BORACHIO	I think I told your lordship a year since how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero.
DON JOHN	I remember.
BORACHIO	I can at any unseasonable instant of the night appoint her to look out at her lady’s chamber window.
DON JOHN	What life is in that to be the death of this marriage?
BORACHIO	The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the Prince your brother. Spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio—whose estimation do you mightily hold up—to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.
DON JOHN	What proof shall I make of that?
BORACHIO	Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue?
DON JOHN	Only to despite them I will endeavour anything.
BORACHIO	Go then. Find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone. Tell them that you know that Hero loves me. Intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio as in love of your brother’s honour who hath made this match, and his friend’s reputation who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial. Offer them instances, which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber window, hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio. And bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the mean time I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero’s disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.
DON JOHN	Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.
BORACHIO	Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.
DON JOHN	I will presently go learn their day of marriage. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Juan e Borachio
DON JUAN	È così. Il conte Claudio sposerà la figlia di Leonato.
BORACHIO	Sì, mio signore, ma io posso attraversare quel disegno.
DON JUAN	Ogni ostacolo, ogni traversia, ogni impedimento mi sarà medicina. Sono malato di rancore verso di lui, e tutto ciò che si mette di traverso al suo affetto s’accorda perfettamente col mio. Come puoi attraversare questo matrimonio?
BORACHIO	Non onestamente, mio signore, ma tanto copertamente che nessuna disonestà apparirà in me.
DON JUAN	Mostrami in breve come.
BORACHIO	Credo d’aver detto a vossignoria, un anno fa, quanto io sia nelle grazie di Margherita, la damigella di compagnia di Ero.
DON JUAN	Ricordo.
BORACHIO	Posso, in qualunque ora inopportuna della notte, darle appuntamento perché s’affacci alla finestra della camera della sua padrona.
DON JUAN	Quale vita c’è in questo, da poter essere la morte di questo matrimonio?
BORACHIO	Il veleno sta a voi temprarlo. Andate dal Principe vostro fratello. Non risparmiatevi di dirgli che ha fatto torto al suo onore nel maritare il rinomato Claudio—di cui voi sostenete altamente la stima—a una sgualdrina contaminata, quale è Ero.
DON JUAN	Quale prova ne darò?
BORACHIO	Prova bastante a ingannare il Principe, a tormentare Claudio, a rovinare Ero e a uccidere Leonato. Cercate forse altro esito?
DON JUAN	Pur di far loro dispetto, mi cimenterò in qualunque cosa.
BORACHIO	Andate, dunque. Trovatemi un’ora adatta per attirare Don Pedro e il conte Claudio in disparte. Dite loro che sapete che Ero ama me. Fingete una specie di zelo tanto verso il Principe quanto verso Claudio, come per amore dell’onore di vostro fratello, che ha combinato questo partito, e della reputazione del suo amico, che sta per essere ingannato con l’apparenza d’una vergine; e che voi avete scoperto tutto questo. Stenteranno a crederlo senza prova. Offrite loro riscontri, che non avranno minore verosimiglianza di questa: vedermi alla finestra della sua camera, udirmi chiamare Margherita Ero, udire Margherita chiamare me Claudio. E conduceteli a vedere ciò proprio la notte prima delle nozze stabilite; ché nel frattempo io accomoderò la faccenda in modo che Ero sia assente, e apparirà una tale sembianza di verità nella slealtà di Ero, che la gelosia sarà chiamata certezza, e tutti i preparativi andranno rovesciati.
DON JUAN	Ne venga pure l’esito avverso che può venirne, io lo metterò in pratica. Sii accorto nel condurlo, e la tua ricompensa sarà di mille ducati.
BORACHIO	Siate voi costante nell’accusa, e la mia accortezza non mi farà vergogna.
DON JUAN	Andrò subito a informarmi del giorno del loro matrimonio. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
(didascalia)	BENEDICK Boy! Enter Boy
BOY	Signor?
BENEDICK	In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it hither to me in the orchard.
BOY	I am here already, sir.
(didascalia)	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 behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling 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 tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten mile afoot 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.
BOY	He hides. Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Leonato, and Claudio
DON PEDRO	Come, shall we hear this music?
CLAUDIO	Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hushed on purpose to grace harmony.
DON PEDRO	(aside) See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
CLAUDIO	(aside) O, very well, my lord. The music ended, We’ll fit the hid-fox with a pennyworth.
(didascalia)	Enter Balthasar with music
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 woos, Yet will he swear he loves.
DON PEDRO	Nay 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! The accompaniment begins
BENEDICK	Now, divine air! Now is his soul ravished. Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all’s done.
BALTHASAR	(sings) 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 more Of dumps so dull and heavy. The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leafy. Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey nonny, nonny.
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	(aside) 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 tomorrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero’s chamber window.
BALTHASAR	The best I can, my lord.
(didascalia)	Exit
DON PEDRO	Do so. Farewell. Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick?
CLAUDIO	(aside) O, ay, stalk on, stalk on. The fowl sits.—I did never think that lady would have loved any man.
LEONATO	No, nor I neither. But most wonderful that she should so dote on Signor Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.
BENEDICK	(aside) Is’t possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
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	Maybe she doth but counterfeit.
CLAUDIO	Faith, like enough.
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	(aside) Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
LEONATO	What effects, my lord? She will sit you—you heard my daughter tell you how.
CLAUDIO	She did indeed.
DON PEDRO	How, how, I pray you? You amaze me. I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.
LEONATO	I would have sworn it had, my lord, especially against Benedick.
BENEDICK	(aside) I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it. Knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.
CLAUDIO	(aside) He hath ta’en th’infection. Hold it up.
DON PEDRO	Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?
LEONATO	No, and swears she never will. That’s her torment.
CLAUDIO	‘Tis true, indeed, so your daughter says. ‘Shall I,’ says she, ‘that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?’
LEONATO	This says she now when she is beginning to write to him, for she’ll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper. My daughter tells us all.
CLAUDIO	Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.
LEONATO	O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet.
CLAUDIO	That.
LEONATO	O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, railed at herself that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. ‘I measure him,’ says she, ‘by my own spirit, for I should flout him if he writ to me, yea, though I love him I should.’
CLAUDIO	Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses, ‘O sweet Benedick, God give me patience.’
LEONATO	She doth indeed, my daughter says so, and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard 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 everything 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 doffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you tell Benedick of it, and hear what a will say.
LEONATO	Were it good, think you?
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 Christianlike 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?
CLAUDIO	Never tell him, my lord. Let her wear it out with good counsel.
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.
LEONATO	My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready.
CLAUDIO	(aside) If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation.
DON PEDRO	(aside) 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. Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato
BENEDICK	(coming forward) This can be no trick. The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady. It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say I will bear myself proudly if I perceive the love come from her. They say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair. ’Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous—’tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit—nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I have railed so long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No. The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice
BENEDICK	By this day, she’s a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.
BEATRICE	Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
BENEDICK	Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.
BEATRICE	I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful I would not have come.
BENEDICK	You take pleasure, then, in the message?
BEATRICE	Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife’s point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signor? Fare you well. Exit
BENEDICK	Ha! ‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.’ There’s a double meaning in that. ‘I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.’ That’s as much as to say ‘Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks.’—If I do not take pity of her I am a villain. If I do not love her I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entra Benedetto
(didascalia)	BENEDETTO Ragazzo! Entra il Ragazzo
RAGAZZO	Signore?
BENEDETTO	Sulla finestra della mia camera c’è un libro. Portamelo qui nel frutteto.
RAGAZZO	Sono già qui, signore.
(didascalia)	BENEDETTO Lo so, ma ti voglio di là e di nuovo qui. Esce il Ragazzo. Molto mi meraviglio che un uomo, vedendo quanto un altro sia pazzo quando consacra la propria condotta all’amore, dopo aver riso di simili scempiaggini negli altri, divenga poi l’argomento del proprio scherno cadendo in amore. E tale uomo è Claudio. L’ho conosciuto quando per lui non c’era altra musica che il tamburo e il piffero, e ora preferisce udire il tamburello e la zampogna. L’ho conosciuto quando avrebbe camminato dieci miglia a piedi per vedere una buona armatura, e ora giace dieci notti sveglio a disegnare il taglio d’un farsetto nuovo. Era solito parlare chiaro e al punto, da uomo onesto e da soldato, e ora s’è fatto ortografia. Le sue parole sono un banchetto stravagante, tanti piatti bizzarri. Potrò io convertirmi così, e vedere con questi occhi? Non saprei dire. Credo di no. Non giurerei che l’amore non possa trasformarmi in un’ostrica; ma faccio giuramento che, finché non abbia fatto di me un’ostrica, non farà mai di me un tal pazzo. Una donna è bella, eppure io sto bene. Un’altra è saggia, eppure io sto bene. Un’altra virtuosa, eppure io sto bene. Ma finché tutte le grazie non siano in una donna sola, nessuna donna entrerà nella mia grazia. Ricca dovrà essere, questo è certo. Saggia, o non ne voglio. Virtuosa, o non mercanteggerò per lei. Bella, o non la guarderò mai. Mite, o non mi si accosti. Nobile, o non io, neppure per un angelo. Di buona conversazione, eccellente musicista, e i suoi capelli siano del colore che piace a Dio. Ah! Il Principe e Monsignor Amore. Mi nasconderò nel pergolato.
RAGAZZO	Si nasconde. Entrano Don Pedro il Principe, Leonato e Claudio
DON PEDRO	Su, vogliamo ascoltare questa musica?
CLAUDIO	Sì, mio buon signore. Com’è quieta la sera, come tacitata apposta per far grazia all’armonia.
DON PEDRO	(in disparte) Vedete dove Benedetto s’è nascosto?
CLAUDIO	(in disparte) Oh, molto bene, mio signore. Finita la musica, serviremo la volpe nascosta per il suo prezzo.
(didascalia)	Entra Baldassarre con i musici
DON PEDRO	Su, Baldassarre, riascolteremo quella canzone.
BALDASSARRE	Oh, mio buon signore, non gravate una voce così cattiva del calunniare la musica più d’una volta.
DON PEDRO	È sempre testimonianza d’eccellenza mostrare volto estraneo alla propria perfezione. Ti prego, canta, e non farmi più corteggiare.
BALDASSARRE	Poiché parlate di corteggiare, io canterò, ché più d’un pretendente comincia la sua domanda a colei che non stima degna, eppure la corteggia, eppure giurerà che l’ama.
DON PEDRO	Suvvia, ti prego, vieni; o, se vuoi tenere più a lungo il discorso, fallo in note.
BALDASSARRE	Notate questo prima delle mie note: non c’è una nota mia che meriti d’esser notata.
DON PEDRO	Ma queste che dice sono proprio semiminime— notare note, in fede mia, e nulla! L’accompagnamento comincia
BENEDETTO	Ora, aria divina! Ora la sua anima è rapita. Non è strano che budella di pecora traggano le anime fuori dai corpi degli uomini? Be’, a conti fatti, io preferisco un corno.
BALDASSARRE	(canta) Non sospirate più, madonne, non sospirate più. Gli uomini furono sempre ingannatori, un piede in mare e uno sulla riva, a una sola cosa mai costanti. Dunque non sospirate così, ma lasciateli andare, e siate liete e gaie, mutando tutti i vostri suoni di dolore in un ehi nonì, nonì. Non cantate più canzoni, non cantate più lamenti così tristi e pesanti. La frode degli uomini fu sempre tale da quando l’estate mise le prime foglie. Dunque non sospirate così, ma lasciateli andare, e siate liete e gaie, mutando tutti i vostri suoni di dolore in un ehi nonì, nonì.
DON PEDRO	In fede mia, una buona canzone.
BALDASSARRE	E un cattivo cantore, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	Ah, no, no, in fede mia. Canti abbastanza bene per far di bisogno.
BENEDETTO	(in disparte) Se fosse stato un cane a ululare così, l’avrebbero impiccato; e prego Dio che la sua brutta voce non presagisca sciagura. Avrei ascoltato con altrettanto piacere il corvo notturno, venisse pure appresso qualunque flagello.
DON PEDRO	Sì, perbacco, mi senti, Baldassarre? Ti prego, procuraci qualche musica eccellente, ché domani notte la vorremmo sotto la finestra della camera di madonna Ero.
BALDASSARRE	La migliore che potrò, mio signore.
(didascalia)	Esce
DON PEDRO	Fa’ così. Addio. Vieni qua, Leonato. Che cos’era che mi dicevi oggi, che tua nipote Beatrice era innamorata del signor Benedetto?
CLAUDIO	(in disparte) Oh, sì, avanti in agguato, avanti. L’uccello è appollaiato.—Non avrei mai creduto che quella dama potesse amare un uomo.
LEONATO	No, neppur io. Ma è meravigliosissimo che ella spasimi tanto per il signor Benedetto, che in ogni comportamento esteriore è sempre parso che aborrisse.
BENEDETTO	(in disparte) È possibile? Soffia il vento da quella parte?
LEONATO	In fede mia, mio signore, non so che pensarne. Ma che ella lo ami con affetto forsennato, questo supera l’infinito del pensiero.
DON PEDRO	Forse ella non fa che fingere.
CLAUDIO	In fede mia, è assai probabile.
LEONATO	O Dio! Fingere? Non ci fu mai finzione di passione che s’accostasse tanto alla vita della passione quanto ella la manifesta.
DON PEDRO	Ebbene, quali effetti di passione mostra?
CLAUDIO	(in disparte) Innescate bene l’amo. Questo pesce abbocca.
LEONATO	Quali effetti, mio signore? Ella se ne sta seduta—avete udito mia figlia raccontarvi come.
CLAUDIO	L’ha fatto davvero.
DON PEDRO	Come, come, di grazia? Mi stupite. Avrei creduto che il suo spirito fosse invincibile contro ogni assalto dell’affetto.
LEONATO	Lo avrei giurato anch’io, mio signore, specialmente contro Benedetto.
BENEDETTO	(in disparte) Crederei che sia una burla, se non fosse quell’uomo dalla barba bianca a dirlo. La furfanteria non può, di certo, nascondersi sotto tanta riverenza.
CLAUDIO	(in disparte) Ha preso il contagio. Tenete duro.
DON PEDRO	Ha ella fatto conoscere il suo affetto a Benedetto?
LEONATO	No, e giura che non lo farà mai. È questo il suo tormento.
CLAUDIO	È vero, davvero, così dice vostra figlia. «Dovrò io», dice, «che tanto spesso l’ho affrontato con lo scherno, scrivergli che l’amo?»
LEONATO	Questo dice ora, mentre comincia a scrivergli; ché si alza venti volte per notte, e là siede in camicia finché non abbia riempito un foglio di carta. Mia figlia ci racconta tutto.
CLAUDIO	Ora che parlate d’un foglio, ricordo una graziosa facezia che vostra figlia ci ha riferito.
LEONATO	Oh, quando l’ebbe scritto e lo rileggeva, trovò Benedetto e Beatrice fra le lenzuola del foglio.
CLAUDIO	Quella.
LEONATO	Oh, lacerò la lettera in mille pezzi, si rimproverò d’essere tanto impudica da scrivere a uno che sapeva l’avrebbe beffata. «Lo misuro», dice, «con il mio stesso spirito, ché io lo beffeggerei se egli scrivesse a me; sì, anche se l’amo, lo farei.»
CLAUDIO	Poi cade in ginocchio, piange, singhiozza, si batte il cuore, si strappa i capelli, prega, impreca: «O dolce Benedetto, Dio mi dia pazienza.»
LEONATO	Lo fa davvero, mia figlia lo dice; e l’estasi l’ha talmente travolta che mia figlia teme talvolta che ella commetta un oltraggio disperato contro sé stessa. È verissimo.
DON PEDRO	Sarebbe bene che Benedetto lo sapesse da qualche altro, se ella non vuole scoprirlo.
CLAUDIO	A quale scopo? Non ne farebbe che uno scherzo, e tormenterebbe peggio la povera dama.
DON PEDRO	Se lo facesse, sarebbe opera pia impiccarlo. È una dama eccellente e dolce, e, fuori d’ogni sospetto, è virtuosa.
CLAUDIO	Ed è straordinariamente saggia.
DON PEDRO	In tutto, tranne che nell’amare Benedetto.
LEONATO	O mio signore, combattendo saggezza e sangue in un corpo così tenero, abbiamo dieci prove contro una che il sangue avrà la vittoria. Mi dispiace per lei, e ne ho giusta causa, essendone lo zio e il tutore.
DON PEDRO	Vorrei che avesse riversato su di me questo spasimo. Avrei deposto ogni altro riguardo e ne avrei fatto la mia metà. Vi prego, ditelo a Benedetto, e sentite che cosa dirà.
LEONATO	Sarebbe bene, credete?
CLAUDIO	Ero pensa di certo che ella morirà; ché dice che morirà se egli non l’ama, e morirà prima di far conoscere il suo amore, e morirà se egli la corteggia, piuttosto che rimettere un solo soffio della sua consueta ritrosia.
DON PEDRO	Fa bene. Se ella gli offrisse il suo amore, è assai possibile che egli lo disprezzi; ché quell’uomo, come sapete tutti, ha uno spirito sprezzante.
CLAUDIO	È un uomo assai avvenente.
DON PEDRO	Ha davvero una buona fortuna esteriore.
CLAUDIO	Davanti a Dio; e, a mio parere, molto saggio.
DON PEDRO	Mostra in verità qualche scintilla che somiglia allo spirito.
CLAUDIO	E lo ritengo valoroso.
DON PEDRO	Come Ettore, ve l’assicuro; e nel condurre le liti potete dire che è saggio, ché o le evita con gran discrezione o le intraprende con un timore tutto cristiano.
LEONATO	Se egli teme Dio, deve necessariamente mantenere la pace. Se rompe la pace, deve entrare in lite con timore e tremore.
DON PEDRO	E così farà, ché quell’uomo teme Dio, per quanto non paia in lui, a giudicare da certe grosse facezie che gli piace fare. Be’, mi dispiace per vostra nipote. Andiamo a cercare Benedetto e a dirgli del suo amore?
CLAUDIO	Non glielo dite mai, mio signore. Lasciate che ella lo consumi con buoni consigli.
LEONATO	Anzi, questo è impossibile. Potrebbe consumarsi prima il cuore.
DON PEDRO	Be’, ne sapremo di più da vostra figlia. Lasciamo intanto raffreddare la cosa. Voglio bene a Benedetto, e assai bene, e vorrei che modestamente esaminasse sé stesso per vedere quanto sia indegno d’una dama così buona.
LEONATO	Mio signore, volete venire? Il pranzo è pronto.
CLAUDIO	(in disparte) Se dopo questo non spasima per lei, non mi fiderò mai più delle mie previsioni.
DON PEDRO	(in disparte) Si tenda per lei la stessa rete, e questo devono farlo vostra figlia e le sue damigelle. Il bello sarà quando ciascuno dei due terrà per certo lo spasimo dell’altro, e non ci sarà nulla di vero. Questa è la scena che vorrei vedere, e sarà pura pantomima. Mandiamola a chiamarlo per il pranzo. Escono Don Pedro, Claudio e Leonato
BENEDETTO	(facendosi avanti) Non può essere un inganno. Il colloquio è stato condotto con gravità. Hanno la verità di ciò da Ero. Sembra che compiangano la dama. Pare che il suo affetto sia teso al massimo. Amare me! Ebbene, bisogna ricambiare. Odo come vengo giudicato. Dicono che mi comporterò con orgoglio se m’accorgo che l’amore viene da lei. Dicono anche che ella morirà piuttosto che dare un segno d’affetto. Non ho mai pensato di sposarmi. Non devo parer superbo. Felici coloro che odono le proprie censure e sanno metterle in emenda. Dicono che la dama è bella. È una verità, posso farne testimonianza. E virtuosa—è così, non posso smentirlo. E saggia, se non per il fatto che mi ama. In fede mia, ciò non è aggiunta al suo spirito—né gran prova della sua follia, ché io sarò orribilmente innamorato di lei. Potrà capitarmi qualche strano frizzo e qualche avanzo d’arguzia spezzato sul mio capo, perché ho tanto a lungo inveito contro il matrimonio; ma non muta forse l’appetito? Un uomo ama in gioventù la carne che in vecchiaia non sopporta. Dovranno motti e sentenze e queste pallottole di carta del cervello distogliere un uomo dal corso del suo umore? No. Il mondo dev’essere popolato. Quando dicevo che sarei morto scapolo, non pensavo che sarei vissuto fino a sposarmi. Ecco che viene Beatrice.
(didascalia)	Entra Beatrice
BENEDETTO	Per la luce del giorno, è una bella dama. Scorgo in lei qualche segno d’amore.
BEATRICE	Contro la mia volontà sono mandata a dirvi di venire a pranzo.
BENEDETTO	Bella Beatrice, vi ringrazio del disturbo.
BEATRICE	Non mi sono presa più disturbo per quei ringraziamenti di quanto voi ve ne prendiate a ringraziarmi. Se fosse stato penoso, non sarei venuta.
BENEDETTO	Dunque provate piacere nel messaggio?
BEATRICE	Sì, giusto quanto ne sta sulla punta d’un coltello, e basta a strozzare una cornacchia. Non avete appetito, signore? State bene. Esce
BENEDETTO	Ah! «Contro la mia volontà sono mandata a dirvi di venire a pranzo.» C’è un doppio senso in questo. «Non mi sono presa più disturbo per quei ringraziamenti di quanto voi ve ne siate preso a ringraziarmi.» Che è come dire: «Ogni disturbo che mi prendo per voi è facile come un grazie.»—Se non ho pietà di lei, sono un furfante. Se non l’amo, sono un giudeo. Andrò a procurarmi il suo ritratto. Esce

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Hero and two gentlewomen, Margaret and Ursula
HERO	Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour. There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the Prince and Claudio. Whisper her ear, and tell her I and Ursula Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her. Say that thou overheard’st us, And bid her steal into the pleachèd bower Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter—like favourites Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it. There will she hide her To listen our propose. This is thy office. Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
MARGARET	I’ll make her come, I warrant you, presently.
(didascalia)	Exit
HERO	Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down Our talk must only be of Benedick. When I do name him, let it be thy part To praise him more than ever man did merit. My talk to thee must be how Benedick Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hearsay.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice Now begin,
HERO	For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs Close by the ground to hear our conference.
URSULA	The pleasant’st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait. So angle we for Beatrice, who even now Is couched in the woodbine coverture. Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
HERO	Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false-sweet bait that we lay for it.— They approach Beatrice’s hiding-place No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful. I know her spirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock.
URSULA	But are you sure That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
HERO	So says the Prince and my new trothèd lord.
URSULA	And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
HERO	They did entreat me to acquaint her of it, But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection And never to let Beatrice know of it.
URSULA	Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Deserve as full as fortunate a bed As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
HERO	O god of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man. But nature never framed a woman’s heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on, and her wit Values itself so highly that to her All matter else seems weak. She cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endearèd.
URSULA	Sure, I think so. And therefore certainly it were not good She knew his love, lest she’ll make sport at it.
HERO	Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward. If fair-faced, She would swear the gentleman should be her sister. If black, why nature, drawing of an antic, Made a foul blot. If tall, a lance ill headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut; If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out, And never gives to truth and virtue that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
URSULA	Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
HERO	No, not to be so odd and from all fashions As Beatrice is cannot be commendable. But who dare tell her so? If I should speak She would mock me into air, O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore let Benedick, like covered fire, Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly. It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling.
URSULA	Yet tell her of it, hear what she will say.
HERO	No. Rather I will go to Benedick And counsel him to fight against his passion. And truly, I’ll devise some honest slanders To stain my cousin with. One doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking.
URSULA	O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgement, Having so swift and excellent a wit As she is prized to have, as to refuse So rare a gentleman as Signor Benedick.
HERO	He is the only man of Italy, Always excepted my dear Claudio.
URSULA	I pray you be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy. Signor Benedick, For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour Goes foremost in report through Italy.
HERO	Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
URSULA	His excellence did earn it ere he had it. When are you married, madam?
HERO	Why, every day, tomorrow. Come, go in. I’ll show thee some attires and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me tomorrow.
URSULA	(aside) She’s limed, I warrant you. We have caught her, madam.
HERO	(aside) If it prove so, then loving goes by haps. Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Hero and Ursula
BEATRICE	(coming forward) What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemned 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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Ero e due damigelle, Margherita e Orsola
ERO	Buona Margherita, corri nel salotto. Là troverai mia cugina Beatrice in conversare col Principe e con Claudio. Sussurrale all’orecchio, e dille che io e Orsola passeggiamo nel frutteto, e che tutto il nostro discorso è di lei. Di’ che ci hai ascoltate di nascosto, e pregala d’insinuarsi nel pergolato intrecciato dove i caprifogli, maturati dal sole, vietano al sole d’entrare—come i favoriti insuperbiti dai principi, che innalzano il loro orgoglio contro quel potere che l’ha generato. Là si nasconderà per udire il nostro discorso. Questo è il tuo ufficio. Fallo bene, e lasciaci sole.
MARGHERITA	Ve lo garantisco, la farò venire all’istante.
(didascalia)	Esce
ERO	Ora, Orsola, quando Beatrice verrà, mentre percorriamo su e giù questo viale il nostro discorso dovrà essere solo di Benedetto. Quando lo nominerò, sarà tua parte lodarlo più di quanto uomo abbia mai meritato. Il mio discorso a te dovrà essere di come Benedetto sia malato d’amore per Beatrice. Di questa materia è fatta l’astuta freccia del piccolo Cupido, che ferisce solo per sentito dire.
(didascalia)	Entra Beatrice Ora comincia,
ERO	Ché guarda dove Beatrice come una pavoncella corre rasente al suolo per udire il nostro colloquio.
ORSOLA	La pesca più piacevole è vedere il pesce fendere con i suoi remi d’oro la corrente d’argento e divorare avidamente l’esca insidiosa. Così pescheremo Beatrice, che proprio ora è acquattata nel riparo del caprifoglio. Non temete per la mia parte del dialogo.
ERO	Allora accostiamoci a lei, perché il suo orecchio nulla perda della falsa dolce esca che gli tendiamo.— Si avvicinano al nascondiglio di Beatrice No, davvero, Orsola, ella è troppo sdegnosa. So che i suoi spiriti sono schivi e selvatici come falchi selvaggi della rupe.
ORSOLA	Ma siete certa che Benedetto ami Beatrice tanto interamente?
ERO	Così dicono il Principe e il mio novello promesso signore.
ORSOLA	E vi hanno pregata di dirglielo, madonna?
ERO	Mi hanno supplicata di informarla, ma io li ho persuasi che, se amavano Benedetto, gli augurassero di lottare col proprio affetto e non lasciassero mai che Beatrice lo sapesse.
ORSOLA	Perché avete fatto così? Non merita il gentiluomo un letto pieno e fortunato quanto quello su cui Beatrice mai si coricherà?
ERO	O dio d’amore! So che egli merita quanto si possa concedere a un uomo. Ma la natura non foggiò mai il cuore d’una donna di stoffa più superba di quello di Beatrice. Sdegno e disprezzo cavalcano scintillando nei suoi occhi, svalutando ciò che guardano, e il suo spirito si stima tanto alto che a lei ogni altra cosa pare debole. Ella non sa amare, né accoglie forma o disegno d’affetto, tanto è innamorata di sé.
ORSOLA	Certo, lo penso anch’io. E perciò di sicuro non sarebbe bene ch’ella conoscesse il suo amore, ché ne farebbe scherno.
ERO	Ebbene, dite il vero. Non ho mai visto uomo, per saggio, per nobile, giovane, di rari lineamenti che fosse, ch’ella non sillabasse a rovescio. Se di bel viso, giurerebbe che il gentiluomo dovrebbe esserle sorella. Se bruno, ebbene la natura, disegnando un grottesco, ha fatto una brutta macchia. Se alto, una lancia mal cimata; se basso, un’agata intagliata assai vilmente; se parla, ebbene, una banderuola mossa da tutti i venti; se tace, ebbene, un ceppo che nessuno smuove. Così ella rivolta ogni uomo dalla parte sbagliata, e non concede mai alla verità e alla virtù ciò che semplicità e merito guadagnano.
ORSOLA	Certo, certo, un tal cavillare non è lodevole.
ERO	No, essere così bizzarra e fuori d’ogni foggia com’è Beatrice non può essere lodevole. Ma chi oserebbe dirglielo? Se io parlassi ella mi beffeggerebbe fino a dissolvermi in aria; oh, riderebbe tanto da cavarmi fuori di me, mi schiaccerebbe a morte con l’arguzia. Perciò lasciamo che Benedetto, come fuoco coperto, si consumi in sospiri e si logori di dentro. Sarebbe morte migliore che morire di beffe, il che è brutto come morire di solletico.
ORSOLA	Eppure diteglielo, sentite che cosa dirà.
ERO	No. Piuttosto andrò da Benedetto e gli consiglierò di combattere contro la sua passione. E in verità, escogiterò qualche onesta calunnia per macchiarne mia cugina. Non si sa quanto una cattiva parola possa avvelenare un’inclinazione.
ORSOLA	Oh, non fate a vostra cugina un tal torto. Non può essere tanto priva di vero giudizio, avendo uno spirito così pronto ed eccellente quale le si attribuisce, da rifiutare un gentiluomo così raro come il signor Benedetto.
ERO	Egli è il solo uomo d’Italia, sempre eccettuato il mio caro Claudio.
ORSOLA	Vi prego, non adiratevi con me, madonna, se dico il mio parere. Il signor Benedetto, per figura, per portamento, discorso e valore va primo nella fama per tutta l’Italia.
ERO	Davvero, ha un nome eccellente.
ORSOLA	La sua eccellenza se lo guadagnò prima d’averlo. Quando vi sposate, madonna?
ERO	Ebbene, ogni giorno, domani. Venite, entriamo. Ti mostrerò certe vesti e avrò il tuo consiglio su quale sia la migliore per adornarmi domani.
ORSOLA	(in disparte) È invischiata, ve lo garantisco. L’abbiamo presa, madonna.
ERO	(in disparte) Se così sarà, allora amare va per casi fortuiti. Cupido uccide alcuni con le frecce, altri con le trappole.
(didascalia)	Escono Ero e Orsola
BEATRICE	(facendosi avanti) Che fuoco mi arde negli orecchi? Può esser vero? Sto io condannata per tanto orgoglio e disprezzo ? Disprezzo, addio; e orgoglio verginale, addio. Nessuna gloria vive dietro le spalle di tali cose. E tu, Benedetto, séguita ad amare. Ti ricambierò, domando il mio cuore selvaggio alla tua mano amorosa. Se tu ami, la mia tenerezza t’inciterà a stringere i nostri amori in un santo vincolo. Ché altri dicono che tu lo meriti, e io lo credo meglio che per fama.
(didascalia)	Esce

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato
DON PEDRO	I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, 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 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.
BENEDICK	Gallants, I am not as I have been.
LEONATO	So say I. Methinks you are sadder.
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.
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.
BENEDICK	Well, everyone 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, 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 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?
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.
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 signor, walk aside with me. I have studied eight or 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 played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two bears will not bite one another when they meet.
(didascalia)	Enter Don John the bastard
DON JOHN	My lord, and brother, God save you.
DON PEDRO	Good-e’en, 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 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.
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?
DON JOHN	I came hither to tell you, and, circumstances shortened—for she has been too long a-talking of—the lady is disloyal.
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 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, 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 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 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	O mischief strangely thwarting!
DON JOHN	O plague right well prevented!—So will you say when you have seen the sequel. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro il Principe, Claudio, Benedetto e Leonato
DON PEDRO	Mi trattengo solo finché il vostro matrimonio sia consumato, e poi partirò verso l’Aragona.
CLAUDIO	Vi accompagnerò fin là, mio signore, se me lo concedete.
DON PEDRO	No, sarebbe una macchia troppo grande sulla nuova lucentezza del vostro matrimonio, come mostrare a un bambino la sua veste nuova e proibirgli di indossarla. Mi permetterò soltanto di chiedere a Benedetto la sua compagnia, ché dalla sommità del suo capo alla pianta del piede egli è tutto allegria. Ha tagliato due o tre volte la corda dell’arco di Cupido, e il piccolo boia non osa più tirargli contro. Ha un cuore sano come una campana, e la sua lingua ne è il battaglio, ché quel che il cuore pensa la lingua dice.
BENEDETTO	Galantuomini, non sono più quello che ero.
LEONATO	Lo dico anch’io. Mi sembrate più triste.
CLAUDIO	Spero che sia innamorato.
DON PEDRO	S’impicchi, il fannullone! Non c’è in lui una vera goccia di sangue da poter essere davvero toccata dall’amore. Se è triste, gli manca il denaro.
BENEDETTO	Ho mal di denti.
DON PEDRO	Cavatelo.
BENEDETTO	Impiccatelo.
CLAUDIO	Dovete prima impiccarlo e poi squartarlo.
DON PEDRO	Come? Sospirare per il mal di denti?
LEONATO	Dove non c’è che un umore o un verme.
BENEDETTO	Be’, ognuno sa dominare un dolore, tranne chi lo prova.
CLAUDIO	Eppure io dico che è innamorato.
DON PEDRO	Non c’è in lui apparenza di capriccio amoroso, se non il capriccio che ha per gli strani travestimenti: essere oggi olandese, domani francese, o avere la foggia di due paesi in una volta, tedesco dalla cintola in giù, tutto braghe, e spagnolo dall’anca in su, senza farsetto. A meno che non abbia un capriccio per questa buffoneria, come pare che l’abbia, non è pazzo per capriccio amoroso, come voi volete far apparire che sia.
CLAUDIO	Se non è innamorato di qualche donna, non c’è più da credere agli antichi segni. Si spazzola il cappello ogni mattina: che cosa vorrà presagire?
DON PEDRO	L’ha visto qualcuno dal barbiere?
CLAUDIO	No, ma il garzone del barbiere è stato visto con lui, e il vecchio ornamento della sua guancia ha già imbottito palle da tennis.
LEONATO	Davvero, sembra più giovane di prima per la perdita della barba.
DON PEDRO	Anzi, si strofina con lo zibetto. Riuscite a fiutarlo da questo?
CLAUDIO	È come dire che il dolce giovane è innamorato.
DON PEDRO	Il segno più grande è la sua malinconia.
CLAUDIO	E da quando è solito lavarsi la faccia?
DON PEDRO	Sì, o dipingersi?—e in proposito sento quel che dicono di lui.
CLAUDIO	Anzi, il suo spirito burlesco, che ora s’è insinuato in una corda di liuto, ed è governato dai tasti.
DON PEDRO	Davvero, questo racconta una storia pesante per lui. Concludete, concludete: è innamorato.
CLAUDIO	Anzi, io so chi lo ama.
DON PEDRO	Vorrei saperlo anch’io. Garantisco che è una che non lo conosce.
CLAUDIO	Sì, e conosce anche i suoi difetti, e a dispetto di tutto muore per lui.
DON PEDRO	Sarà sepolta con la faccia all’insù.
BENEDETTO	Eppure questo non è scongiuro per il mal di denti. Vecchio signore, venite in disparte con me. Ho studiato otto o nove parole assennate da dirvi, che questi cavallucci di legno non devono udire. Escono Benedetto e Leonato
DON PEDRO	Sulla mia vita, per parlargli di Beatrice.
CLAUDIO	È proprio così. Ero e Margherita hanno ormai recitato la loro parte con Beatrice, e allora i due orsi non si morderanno più quando s’incontrano.
(didascalia)	Entra Don Juan il bastardo
DON JUAN	Mio signore e fratello, Dio vi guardi.
DON PEDRO	Buona sera, fratello.
DON JUAN	Se il vostro agio lo permette, vorrei parlarvi.
DON PEDRO	In privato?
DON JUAN	Se vi piace. Tuttavia il conte Claudio può udire, ché ciò di cui voglio parlare lo riguarda.
DON PEDRO	Di che si tratta?
DON JUAN	(a Claudio) Intende vossignoria sposarsi domani ?
DON PEDRO	Sapete che lo intende.
DON JUAN	Non so se lo intenderà quando saprà ciò che io so.
CLAUDIO	Se c’è qualche impedimento, vi prego, scopritelo.
DON JUAN	Potete credere che io non vi ami. Che ciò appaia in seguito, e giudicatemi meglio da quel che ora manifesterò. Quanto a mio fratello, credo che vi tenga in buon conto e che, per affetto di cuore, abbia contribuito a effettuare il vostro prossimo matrimonio—corteggiamento di certo mal speso, e fatica mal collocata.
DON PEDRO	Ma insomma, di che si tratta?
DON JUAN	Sono venuto qui per dirvelo; e, abbreviando le circostanze—ché si è già parlato troppo a lungo di lei—la dama è sleale.
CLAUDIO	Chi, Ero?
DON JUAN	Proprio lei. L’Ero di Leonato, la vostra Ero, l’Ero di tutti.
CLAUDIO	Sleale?
DON JUAN	La parola è troppo buona per dipingerne la malvagità. Potrei dire che è peggio. Pensate voi a un titolo peggiore, e io ve l’adatterò. Non ve ne meravigliate finché non abbiate maggior prova. Venite solo con me stanotte, e vedrete che si entra nella finestra della sua camera, proprio la notte prima del giorno delle nozze. Se allora l’amate ancora, sposatela domani. Ma converrebbe meglio al vostro onore mutar parere.
CLAUDIO	Può essere così?
DON PEDRO	Non voglio crederlo.
DON JUAN	Se non osate credere a ciò che vedete, non confessate ciò che sapete. Se volete seguirmi, vi mostrerò abbastanza; e quando avrete visto di più e udito di più, procedete di conseguenza.
CLAUDIO	Se vedo stanotte qualcosa per cui non debba sposarla, domani, nell’assemblea dove dovrei sposarla, là la svergognerò.
DON PEDRO	E come ho corteggiato per te per ottenerla, così mi unirò a te per disonorarla.
DON JUAN	Non la diffamerò oltre finché non sarete miei testimoni. Sopportate freddamente solo fino a mezzanotte, e lasciate che l’esito si mostri da sé.
DON PEDRO	O giorno volto al peggio!
CLAUDIO	O sciagura che stranamente traversa!
DON JUAN	O flagello ben scongiurato in tempo!—Così direte quando avrete visto il seguito. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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, being chosen for the Prince’s watch.
VERGES	Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
DOGBERRY	First, who think you the most desertless man to be constable?
SECOND WATCHMAN	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 nature.
FIRST 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, 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 stand, in the Prince’s name.
FIRST 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.
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 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 offend. Only have a care that your bills be not stolen. Well, you are to call at all the alehouses 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. 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 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 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.
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 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 baes will never answer a calf when he bleats.
VERGES	’Tis very true.
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 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.
DOGBERRY	Ha ha ha! Well, masters, good night. An there be any matter of weight chances, call up me. Keep your fellows’ counsels, and your own, and good night. Come, neighbour.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN Well, masters, we hear our charge. Let us 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 Signor Leonato’s door, for the wedding being there tomorrow, there is a great coil tonight. Adieu. Be vigitant, I beseech you.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. The Watch sit
(didascalia)	Enter Borachio and Conrad
BORACHIO	What, Conrad!
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN (aside) Peace, stir not.
BORACHIO	Conrad, I say.
CONRAD	Here, man, I am at thy elbow.
BORACHIO	Mass, an my elbow itched, I thought there would a scab follow.
CONRAD	I will owe thee an answer for that. And now, forward with thy tale.
BORACHIO	Stand thee close, then, under this penthouse, for it drizzles rain, and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee. A WATCHMAN (aside) Some treason, masters. Yet stand close.
BORACHIO	Therefore, know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
CONRAD	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 have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will.
CONRAD	I wonder at it.
BORACHIO	That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou knowest that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak is nothing to a man.
CONRAD	Yes, it is apparel.
BORACHIO	I mean the fashion.
CONRAD	Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
BORACHIO	Tush, I may as well say the fool’s the fool. But seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is ? A 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?
CONRAD	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 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?
CONRAD	All this I see, and I see that the fashion wears 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 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 off in the orchard this amiable encounter.
CONRAD	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 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 congregation, shame her with what he saw o’ernight, and send her home again without a husband.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN (coming forward) We charge you in the Prince’s name. Stand.
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN Call up the right Master Constable. We have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth.
(didascalia)	FIRST WATCHMAN And one Deformed is one of them. I know him—a wears a lock.
CONRAD	Masters, masters!
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN You’ll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.
(didascalia)	CONRAD Masters—
(didascalia)	A WATCHMAN Never speak. We charge you. Let us obey you to go with us.
BORACHIO	(to Conrad) We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of these men’s bills.
CONRAD	A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we’ll obey you. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Dogberry e il suo compare Verges, con la Ronda
DOGBERRY	Siete uomini buoni e fedeli?
VERGES	Sì, altrimenti sarebbe un peccato che non patissero la salvazione, in corpo e in anima.
DOGBERRY	Anzi, sarebbe un castigo troppo buono per loro, se avessero in sé un briciolo di lealtà, essendo scelti per la ronda del Principe.
VERGES	Be’, date loro le consegne, vicino Dogberry.
DOGBERRY	Prima di tutto, chi credete sia l’uomo più immeritevole di fare il capo delle guardie?
SECONDA GUARDIA	Ugo Focaccia, signore, o Giorgio Carbone, ché sanno leggere e scrivere.
DOGBERRY	Vieni qua, vicino Carbone: Dio t’ha benedetto con un buon nome. Essere un uomo di bell''aspetto è dono della fortuna, ma leggere e scrivere viene per natura.
PRIMA GUARDIA	L’una e l’altra cosa, messer Capoguardia—
DOGBERRY	Le avete. Sapevo che sarebbe stata la vostra risposta. Be’, quanto al vostro aspetto, signore, ringraziatene Dio e non ve ne vantate. E quanto al vostro leggere e scrivere, che ciò appaia quando non ci sarà bisogno di simile vanità. Qui vi ritengono l’uomo più insensato e adatto a fare il capo della ronda; perciò portate voi la lanterna. Questa è la vostra consegna: dovete comprendere tutti gli uomini vagabondi. Dovete intimare a chiunque di fermarsi, in nome del Principe.
PRIMA GUARDIA	E se non vuol fermarsi?
DOGBERRY	Ebbene, allora non prendetene nota, ma lasciatelo andare; e chiamate subito a raccolta il resto della ronda, e ringraziate Dio d’esservi liberati d’un furfante.
VERGES	Se non vuol fermarsi quando gli è intimato, non è uno dei sudditi del Principe.
DOGBERRY	Vero, e non devono impicciarsi se non dei sudditi del Principe.—Non dovete inoltre far rumore per le strade, ché per la ronda ciarlare e chiacchierare è cosa tolleratissima e da non sopportarsi. UNA GUARDIA Preferiremo dormire che chiacchierare. Sappiamo che cosa spetta a una ronda.
DOGBERRY	Ebbene, parlate da guardia anziana e quietissima, ché non vedo come il dormire possa offendere. Badate solo che non vi rubino le alabarde. Be’, dovete passare per tutte le taverne e dire a quelli che sono ubriachi di andarsene a letto. UNA GUARDIA E se non vogliono?
DOGBERRY	Ebbene, allora lasciateli stare finché non siano sobri. Se allora non vi daranno risposta migliore, potrete dire che non sono gli uomini che credevate. UNA GUARDIA Bene, signore.
DOGBERRY	Se incontrate un ladro, potete sospettare, in virtù del vostro ufficio, che non sia un uomo onesto; e con gente di tal sorta, meno v’impicciate e vi mescolate, ebbene, più ne guadagna la vostra onestà. UNA GUARDIA Se sappiamo che è un ladro, non dobbiamo mettergli le mani addosso?
DOGBERRY	In verità, per il vostro ufficio lo potete; ma io penso che chi tocca la pece si sporca. La via più pacifica per voi, se catturate un ladro, è di lasciare che mostri da sé quel che è, e che sgusci via dalla vostra compagnia.
VERGES	Vi hanno sempre chiamato uomo misericordioso, compare.
DOGBERRY	In verità, non impiccherei un cane di mia volontà, tanto meno un uomo che abbia in sé un po’ d’onestà.
VERGES	Se udite un bambino piangere nella notte, dovete chiamare la balia e ordinarle di farlo tacere. UNA GUARDIA E se la balia dorme e non ci sente?
DOGBERRY	Ebbene, allora andatevene in pace e lasciate che il bambino la svegli col pianto; ché la pecora che non ode il suo agnello quando bela non risponderà mai a un vitello che muggisce.
VERGES	È verissimo.
DOGBERRY	Questa è la fine della consegna. Voi, capoguardia, dovete rappresentare la persona stessa del Principe. Se incontrate il Principe nella notte, potete fermarlo.
VERGES	Anzi, per la Madonna, credo che non lo possa.
DOGBERRY	Cinque scellini contro uno con chiunque conosca gli statuti, che lo può fermare. Perbacco, non però senza che il Principe sia consenziente; ché in verità la ronda non deve offendere nessuno, ed è offesa fermare un uomo contro la sua volontà.
VERGES	Per la Madonna, credo che sia così.
DOGBERRY	Ah ah ah! Be’, padroni, buona notte. Se capita qualche faccenda di peso, chiamatemi. Serbate i segreti dei vostri compagni e i vostri, e buona notte. Venite, vicino.
(didascalia)	PRIMA GUARDIA Be’, padroni, abbiamo udito la nostra consegna. Andiamo a sederci qui sulla panca della chiesa fino alle due, e poi tutti a letto.
DOGBERRY	Un’altra parola, onesti vicini. Vi prego, vegliate intorno alla porta del signor Leonato, ché essendovi le nozze là domani, stanotte c’è un gran trambusto. Addio. Siate vigitanti, ve ne supplico.
(didascalia)	Escono Dogberry e Verges. La Ronda si siede
(didascalia)	Entrano Borachio e Corrado
BORACHIO	Ehi, Corrado!
(didascalia)	PRIMA GUARDIA (in disparte) Zitti, non muovetevi.
BORACHIO	Corrado, dico.
CORRADO	Qui, amico, sono al tuo gomito.
BORACHIO	Perdinci, mi prudeva il gomito: pensavo che ne sarebbe seguita una crosta.
CORRADO	Ti devo una risposta per questa. E ora, avanti col tuo racconto.
BORACHIO	Stringiti bene, allora, sotto questa tettoia, ché pioviggina; e io, da vero ubriaco, ti dirò tutto. UNA GUARDIA (in disparte) Qualche tradimento, padroni. State pur nascosti.
BORACHIO	Dunque, sappi che ho guadagnato da Don Juan mille ducati.
CORRADO	È possibile che una scelleratezza costi tanto cara?
BORACHIO	Dovresti piuttosto chiedere se sia possibile che una scelleratezza sia tanto ricca. Ché quando i furfanti ricchi hanno bisogno dei poveri, i poveri possono fissare il prezzo che vogliono.
CORRADO	Me ne meraviglio.
BORACHIO	Ciò mostra che sei un novellino. Tu sai che la foggia d’un farsetto, o d’un cappello, o d’un mantello non è nulla per un uomo.
CORRADO	Sì, è vestiario.
BORACHIO	Intendo la moda.
CORRADO	Sì, la moda è la moda.
BORACHIO	Puah, tanto varrebbe che io dicessi che il pazzo è il pazzo. Ma non vedi che deforme ladro sia questa moda davvero ? UNA GUARDIA (in disparte) Io lo conosco quel Deforme. È stato un vile ladro per questi sette anni. Va su e giù come un gentiluomo. Ricordo il suo nome.
BORACHIO	Non hai udito qualcuno?
CORRADO	No, era la banderuola sulla casa.
BORACHIO	Non vedi, ti dico, che deforme ladro sia questa moda, con quanta vertigine faccia girare tutti i sangui caldi fra i quattordici e i trentacinque anni, foggiandoli talvolta come i soldati del Faraone nel dipinto affumicato, talvolta come i sacerdoti del dio Bel nella vecchia vetrata della chiesa, talvolta come l’Ercole rasato nell’arazzo lercio e tarlato, dove la sua brachetta pare massiccia quanto la clava?
CORRADO	Tutto questo lo vedo, e vedo che la moda consuma più vestiti dell’uomo. Ma non hai anche tu la vertigine della moda, se sei sgusciato fuori dal tuo racconto per parlarmi della moda?
BORACHIO	No, neppure. Ma sappi che stanotte ho corteggiato Margherita, la damigella di madonna Ero, col nome di Ero. Ella si sporge verso di me dalla finestra della camera della padrona, mi dà mille volte la buona notte—racconto vilmente questa storia: dovrei prima dirti come il Principe, Claudio e il mio padrone, appostati, collocati e istruiti dal mio padrone Don Juan, videro da lontano nel frutteto quell’amabile incontro.
CORRADO	E credettero che Margherita fosse Ero?
BORACHIO	Due di loro sì, il Principe e Claudio; ma il diavolo del mio padrone sapeva che era Margherita; e in parte per i suoi giuramenti, che li avevano preventivamente posseduti, in parte per la notte buia, che li ingannò, ma soprattutto per la mia scelleratezza, che confermò ogni calunnia messa in giro da Don Juan, Claudio se ne andò infuriato, giurò che l’avrebbe incontrata come stabilito il mattino seguente al tempio, e che là, davanti a tutta l’assemblea, l’avrebbe svergognata con ciò che aveva visto la notte, e l’avrebbe rimandata a casa senza marito.
(didascalia)	PRIMA GUARDIA (facendosi avanti) Vi arrestiamo in nome del Principe. Fermi.
(didascalia)	UNA GUARDIA Chiamate il vero messer Capoguardia. Abbiamo qui recuperato il più pericoloso pezzo di lussuria che si sia mai conosciuto nello stato.
(didascalia)	PRIMA GUARDIA E uno di loro è un tal Deforme. Lo conosco—porta un ricciolo.
CORRADO	Padroni, padroni!
(didascalia)	UNA GUARDIA Sarete costretti a produrre Deforme, ve lo garantisco.
(didascalia)	CORRADO Padroni—
(didascalia)	UNA GUARDIA Non parlate. Vi arrestiamo. Lasciate che vi obbediamo a venire con noi.
BORACHIO	(a Corrado) Faremo la figura d’una bella mercanzia, presi su con le alabarde di questa gente.
CORRADO	Una mercanzia in questione, ve lo garantisco. Su, vi obbediremo. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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
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 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.
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 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 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 have me say ‘saving your reverence, a husband’. An bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I’ll offend nobody. Is there any harm in ‘the heavier for a husband’? None, I think, an it be the right husband and the right wife—otherwise ’tis light and 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. 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.
MARGARET	O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
BEATRICE	(to Hero) ‘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?
BEATRICE	For the letter that begins them all—h.
MARGARET	Well, an 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 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 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?
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.
HERO	There thou prickest 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 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, 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.
BEATRICE	What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
MARGARET	Not a false gallop. Enter Ursula
URSULA	(to Hero) Madam, withdraw. The Prince, the Count, Signor Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church.
HERO	Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Ero, Margherita e Orsola
ERO	Buona Orsola, sveglia mia cugina Beatrice, e pregala d’alzarsi.
ORSOLA	Lo farò, madonna.
ERO	E dille di venire qua.
ORSOLA	Bene. Esce
MARGHERITA	In fede mia, credo che l’altro vostro collare sarebbe migliore.
ERO	No, ti prego, buona Meg, porterò questo.
MARGHERITA	In fede mia, non è così bello, e garantisco che vostra cugina lo dirà.
ERO	Mia cugina è una pazza, e tu sei un’altra: non porterò che questo.
MARGHERITA	La nuova acconciatura di dentro mi piace moltissimo, se solo i capelli fossero un tantino più bruni. E la vostra veste è d’una foggia rarissima, in fede mia. Ho visto la veste della Duchessa di Milano che tanto lodano.
ERO	Oh, quella supera ogni cosa, dicono.
MARGHERITA	In fede mia, non è che una vestaglia da notte a paragone della vostra—drappo d’oro, e tagli, e trine d’argento, guarnita di perle, maniche lunghe, maniche pendenti, e gonne sostenute tutt’intorno da un lamé azzurrino. Ma quanto a foggia fine, ricercata, graziosa ed eccellente, la vostra ne vale dieci di quelle.
ERO	Dio mi dia gioia di portarla, ché il mio cuore è oltremodo pesante.
MARGHERITA	Sarà presto più pesante, del peso d’un uomo.
ERO	Vergogna, non ti vergogni?
MARGHERITA	Di che, madonna? Di parlare onorevolmente ? Non è il matrimonio onorevole anche in un mendicante? Non è onorevole il vostro signore anche senza matrimonio? Credo che vorreste ch’io dicessi «con licenza parlando, un marito». Se il malpensare non travolge il retto parlare, non offenderò nessuno. C’è forse male in «più pesante per un marito»? Nessuno, credo, se è il giusto marito e la giusta moglie—altrimenti è leggero e non pesante. Chiedetelo altrimenti a madonna Beatrice. Eccola che viene. Entra Beatrice
ERO	Buon giorno, cugina.
BEATRICE	Buon giorno, dolce Ero.
ERO	Ebbene, che c’è? Parlate sul tono del malato? BEATRICE Mi pare d’essere fuori da ogni altro tono. MARGHERITA Attacchiamo con «Leggera d’amore». Quella va senza ritornello. Cantatela voi, e io la danzerò.
BEATRICE	Voi leggera d’amore con i vostri calcagni. Poi, se vostro marito avrà stalle bastanti, vedrete che non gli mancheranno granai.
MARGHERITA	Oh, interpretazione illegittima! La sdegno con i miei calcagni.
BEATRICE	(a Ero) Sono quasi le cinque all’orologio, cugina. È ora che tu sia pronta. In fede mia, sto oltremodo male. Ohimè!
MARGHERITA	Per un falco, un cavallo o un marito?
BEATRICE	Per la lettera che comincia tutti e tre—l’acca.
MARGHERITA	Be’, se non vi siete fatta turca, non c’è più da navigare secondo le stelle.
BEATRICE	Che intende questa pazza, di grazia?
MARGHERITA	Nulla, io. Ma Dio mandi a ciascuno il desiderio del proprio cuore.
ERO	Questi guanti me li ha mandati il Conte: hanno un profumo eccellente.
BEATRICE	Sono infreddata, cugina. Non sento odori.
MARGHERITA	Una vergine, e imbottita! Ecco un bel modo di prendere freddo.
BEATRICE	Oh, Dio m’aiuti, Dio m’aiuti. Da quando professi l’arguzia?
MARGHERITA	Da quando l’avete lasciata voi. Non mi sta a meraviglia il mio spirito?
BEATRICE	Non si vede abbastanza. Dovresti portarlo sul berretto. In fede mia, sto male.
MARGHERITA	Prendete un po’ di questo carduus benedictus distillato, e applicatevelo sul cuore. È l’unica cosa per un malessere.
ERO	Ecco che la pungi con un cardo.
BEATRICE	Benedictus—perché Benedictus? Hai qualche sottinteso in questo Benedictus.
MARGHERITA	Sottinteso? No, in fede mia, non ho alcun senso recondito. Intendevo semplicemente cardo santo. Penserete forse ch’io creda che siate innamorata. Anzi, per la Madonna, non sono tanto sciocca da pensare ciò che voglio, né voglio pensare ciò che posso, né in verità posso pensare, sfinissi pure il cuore a furia di pensare, che siate innamorata, o che sarete innamorata, o che possiate essere innamorata. Eppure Benedetto era un altro come voi, e ora è diventato uomo. Giurava che non si sarebbe mai sposato, e ora, a dispetto del suo cuore, mangia il suo cibo senza brontolare. E come voi possiate convertirvi non so, ma mi pare che guardiate con gli occhi, come fanno le altre donne.
BEATRICE	Che andatura è questa che tiene la tua lingua?
MARGHERITA	Non un falso galoppo. Entra Orsola
ORSOLA	(a Ero) Madonna, ritiratevi. Il Principe, il Conte, il signor Benedetto, Don Juan e tutti i galanti della città sono venuti a condurvi in chiesa.
ERO	Aiutatemi a vestirmi, buona cugina, buona Meg, buona Orsola. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, and
(didascalia)	Dogberry the constable, and Verges the headborough
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.
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, 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.
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 to bestow it all of your worship.
LEONATO	All thy tediousness on me, ah?
DOGBERRY	Yea, an ’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, 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 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. An two men ride of 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.
DOGBERRY	Gifts that God gives!
LEONATO	I must leave you.
DOGBERRY	One word, sir. Our watch, sir, have indeed comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship.
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 daughter to her husband.
LEONATO	I’ll wait upon them, I am ready. Exeunt Leonato and Messenger
DOGBERRY	Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail. We are now to examination these men.
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-com. Only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato, e
(didascalia)	Dogberry il capoguardia, e Verges il vicecapo
LEONATO	Che volete da me, onesto vicino?
DOGBERRY	Perbacco, signore, vorrei avere con voi una confidenza che vi decerne da vicino.
LEONATO	Brevemente, vi prego, ché vedete che per me è un momento affaccendato.
DOGBERRY	Perbacco, ecco di che si tratta, signore.
VERGES	Sì, in verità è così, signore.
LEONATO	Di che si tratta, miei buoni amici?
DOGBERRY	Il buon uomo Verges, signore, parla un po’ fuori dell’argomento—un vecchio, signore, e il suo ingegno non è così ottuso come, Dio l’aiuti, desidererei che fosse. Ma in fede mia, onesto come la pelle fra le sue sopracciglia.
VERGES	Sì, ringrazio Dio, sono onesto quanto qualunque uomo vivente che sia vecchio e non più onesto di me.
DOGBERRY	I paragoni sono odorosi. Palabras, vicino Verges.
LEONATO	Vicini, siete tediosi.
DOGBERRY	Piace a vossignoria dirlo, ma noi siamo i poveri ufficiali del Duca. Ma in verità, per parte mia, se fossi tedioso quanto un re, me la sentirei di elargirlo tutto a vossignoria.
LEONATO	Tutto il tuo tedio a me, eh?
DOGBERRY	Sì, e fossero anche mille sterline più di quel che è; ché sento fare di vossignoria altrettanto buona esclamazione che di qualunque uomo della città; e benché io sia solo un pover’uomo, sono lieto d’udirlo.
VERGES	E anch’io.
LEONATO	Vorrei proprio sapere che cosa avete da dire.
VERGES	Perbacco, signore, la nostra ronda stanotte, salva la presenza di vossignoria, ha preso un paio di furfanti tra i più matricolati che siano a Messina.
DOGBERRY	Un buon vecchio, signore. Gli piace parlare. Come si dice, quando entra l’età, esce il senno. Dio ci aiuti, è un mondo da vedere. Ben detto, in fede mia, vicino Verges. Be’, Dio è un uomo buono. Se due uomini cavalcano un cavallo, uno deve stare dietro. Un’anima onesta, in fede mia, signore, per la mia parola lo è, come mai ne spezzò pane. Ma, sia lodato Dio, non tutti gli uomini sono uguali, ahimè, buon vicino.
LEONATO	Davvero, vicino, egli resta molto al di sotto di voi.
DOGBERRY	Doni che Dio dà!
LEONATO	Devo lasciarvi.
DOGBERRY	Una parola, signore. La nostra ronda, signore, ha in effetti compreso due persone auspiziose, e vorremmo che stamattina fossero esaminate davanti a vossignoria.
LEONATO	Prendete voi stesso il loro interrogatorio, e portatemelo. Ora ho gran fretta, come potete vedere.
DOGBERRY	Sarà suffigente.
LEONATO	Bevete un po’ di vino prima d’andare. State bene. Entra un Messaggero
MESSAGGERO	Mio signore, aspettano che diate vostra figlia al marito.
LEONATO	Vengo subito da loro, sono pronto. Escono Leonato e il Messaggero
DOGBERRY	Va’, buon compare, va’ da Francesco Carbone, digli di portare penna e calamaio alla prigione. Dobbiamo ora esaminazione questi uomini.
VERGES	E dobbiamo farlo con giudizio.
DOGBERRY	Non risparmieremo ingegno, ve lo garantisco. Ecco qui di che ridurne qualcuno a un non-com. Procurate solo che lo scrivano dotto metta per iscritto la nostra escomunicazione, e trovatemi alla prigione. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Don John the bastard, Leonato, Friar Francis, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice
LEONATO	Come, Friar Francis, be brief. Only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.
FRIAR	(to Claudio) You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?
CLAUDIO	No.
LEONATO	To be married to her. Friar, you come to marry her.
FRIAR	(to Hero) Lady, you come hither to be married to this count?
HERO	I do.
FRIAR	If either of you know any inward impediment 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?
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!’
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 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. 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 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.
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 vanquished the resistance of her youth 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, I never tempted her with word too large, But as a brother to his sister showed Bashful sincerity and comely love.
HERO	And seemed I ever otherwise to you?
CLAUDIO	Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it. 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 pampered animals That rage in savage sensuality.
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 dishonoured, that have gone about To link my dear friend to a common stale.
LEONATO	Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
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?
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	(to Hero) I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
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. Hero itself can blot out Hero’s virtue. What man was he talked with you yesternight Out at your window betwixt twelve and one? Now if you are a maid, answer to this.
HERO	I talked 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, Confessed the vile encounters they have had A thousand times in secret.
DON JOHN	Fie, fie, they are Not to be named, my lord, not to be spoke of. 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 placed 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 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 falls to the ground
BEATRICE	Why, how now, cousin, wherefore sink you down?
DON JOHN	Come. Let us go. These things come thus to light Smother her spirits up.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio
BENEDICK	How doth the lady?
BEATRICE	Dead, I think. Help, uncle. Hero, why Hero! Uncle, Signor Benedick, Friar—
LEONATO	O fate, take not away thy heavy hand. Death is the fairest cover for her shame That may be wished for.
BEATRICE	How now, cousin Hero?
FRIAR	(to Hero) Have comfort, lady.
LEONATO	(to Hero) 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 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 Strike at thy life. Grieved 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 Took up a beggar’s issue at my gates, Who smirched thus and mired with infamy, I might have said ‘No part of it is mine, This shame derives itself from unknown loins.’ But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised, 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 fallen Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea Hath drops too few to wash her clean again, And salt too little which may season give To her foul tainted flesh.
BENEDICK	Sir, sir, be patient. For my part, I am so attired in wonder I know not what to say.
BEATRICE	O, on my soul, my cousin is belied.
BENEDICK	Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
BEATRICE	No, truly not, although until last night I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
LEONATO	Confirmed, confirmed. O, that is stronger made Which was before barred up with ribs of iron. Would the two princes lie? And Claudio lie, Who loved her so that, speaking of her foulness, Washed it with tears? Hence from her, let her die.
FRIAR	Hear me a little, For I have only been silent so long And given way unto this course of fortune By noting of the lady. I have marked A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness beat away those blushes, And in her eye there hath appeared 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 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 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	(to Hero) Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
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 conversed At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight Maintained 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, 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 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, But they shall find awaked 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. Your daughter here the princes left for dead, Let her a while be secretly kept in, And publish it that she is dead indeed. Maintain a mourning ostentation, And on your family’s old monument 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. 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 maintained, Upon the instant that she was accused— Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused Of every hearer. For it so falls out That what we have, we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but, being lacked and lost, Why then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us 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 Shall come apparelled in more precious habit, More moving-delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soul Than when she lived indeed. Then shall he mourn, If ever love had interest in his liver, And wish he had not so accusèd 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. But if all aim but this be levelled 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, In some reclusive and religious life, Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
BENEDICK	Signor Leonato, let the Friar advise you. And though you know my inwardness and love Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio, 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, For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure. (To Hero) Come, lady, die to live. This wedding day Perhaps is but prolonged. Have patience, and endure.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Beatrice and Benedick
BENEDICK	Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
BEATRICE	Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
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 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.
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 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.
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?
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.
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.
BEATRICE	I am gone though I am here. There is no love in you.—Nay, I pray you, let me go. 295
BENEDICK	Beatrice.
BEATRICE	In faith, I will go.
BENEDICK	We’ll be friends first.
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? 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.
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 slandered, she is undone.
BENEDICK	Beat—
BEATRICE	Princes and counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfit, a sweet gallant, surely. O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, 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 wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. 324
BENEDICK	Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
BEATRICE	Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
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, 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro il Principe, Don Juan il bastardo, Leonato, frate Francesco, Claudio, Benedetto, Ero e Beatrice
LEONATO	Su, frate Francesco, siate breve. Solo la forma semplice del matrimonio; ne esporrete i doveri particolari in seguito.
FRATE	(a Claudio) Venite qui, mio signore, per sposare questa dama?
CLAUDIO	No.
LEONATO	Per essere sposato a lei. Frate, voi venite per sposarla a lui.
FRATE	(a Ero) Madonna, venite qui per essere sposata a questo conte?
ERO	Sì.
FRATE	Se l’uno o l’altra di voi conosce un impedimento occulto per cui non dobbiate essere congiunti, vi ingiungo sulle vostre anime di dichiararlo.
CLAUDIO	Ne conoscete alcuno, Ero?
ERO	Nessuno, mio signore.
FRATE	Ne conoscete alcuno, Conte?
LEONATO	Oso rispondere per lui—nessuno.
CLAUDIO	Oh, quel che gli uomini osano fare! Quel che gli uomini possono fare! Quel che gli uomini fanno ogni giorno, senza sapere quel che fanno!
BENEDETTO	Ma come! Interiezioni ? Ebbene, alcune sono di riso, come «ah, ah, eh!»
CLAUDIO	Fatevi da parte, Frate. Padre, col vostro permesso, volete voi con libera e non costretta anima darmi questa fanciulla, vostra figlia?
LEONATO	Con la stessa libertà, figlio, con cui Dio la diede a me.
CLAUDIO	E che ho io da rendervi, il cui valore possa controbilanciare questo ricco e prezioso dono?
DON PEDRO	Nulla, se non renderla di nuovo.
CLAUDIO	Dolce Principe, mi insegnate una nobile gratitudine. Ecco, Leonato, riprendetevela. Non date questa arancia marcia al vostro amico. Ella non è che il segno e la parvenza del suo onore. Guardate come arrossisce qui, simile a una vergine! Oh, di quale autorità e apparenza di verità sa il peccato astuto ammantarsi ! Non viene quel sangue come modesta prova a testimoniare semplice virtù? Non giurereste, voi tutti che la vedete, ch’ella è vergine, da queste mostre esteriori? Ma non lo è. Ella conosce il calore d’un letto lussurioso. Il suo rossore è colpa, non pudore.
LEONATO	Che intendete dire, mio signore?
CLAUDIO	Di non sposarmi, di non legare la mia anima a una provata sgualdrina.
LEONATO	Mio caro signore, se voi, con la vostra stessa prova, avete vinto la resistenza della sua giovinezza e fatto sconfitta della sua verginità—
CLAUDIO	So che cosa volete dire. Se l’ho conosciuta, direte che ella mi abbracciò come uno sposo, e così attenuerete il peccato anticipato. No, Leonato, io non la tentai mai con parola troppo ardita, ma, come fratello a sorella, mostrai timida sincerità e decoroso amore.
ERO	E vi parvi io mai altrimenti?
CLAUDIO	Vergogna su te, parvenza! Scriverò contro di essa. Voi mi parete Diana nella sua sfera, casta come il bocciolo prima che sia schiuso. Ma siete più intemperante nel vostro sangue di Venere o di quegli animali impinguati che infuriano in selvaggia sensualità.
ERO	Sta bene il mio signore, che parla tanto a vanvera?
LEONATO	Dolce Principe, perché non parlate voi?
DON PEDRO	Che dovrei dire? Io sto disonorato, io che mi sono adoperato a legare il mio caro amico a una comune sgualdrina.
LEONATO	Sono davvero dette queste cose, o non faccio che sognare?
DON JUAN	Signore, sono dette, e queste cose sono vere.
BENEDETTO	Questo non ha l’aria d’una nozze.
ERO	«Vere»! O Dio !
CLAUDIO	Leonato, sto io qui? È questo il Principe? È questo il fratello del Principe? È questo il volto di Ero? Sono i nostri occhi i nostri?
LEONATO	Tutto questo è così. Ma che importa, mio signore?
CLAUDIO	Lasciate ch’io rivolga una sola domanda a vostra figlia, e per quel paterno e naturale potere che avete su di lei, ordinatele di rispondere il vero.
LEONATO	(a Ero) T’ingiungo di farlo, poiché sei mia figlia.
ERO	O Dio, difendimi, come sono assediata! Che sorta di catechismo chiamate questo?
CLAUDIO	Quello di farvi rispondere veracemente al vostro nome.
ERO	Non è forse Ero? Chi può macchiare quel nome con un giusto rimprovero?
CLAUDIO	Perbacco, lo può Ero. Ero stessa può cancellare la virtù di Ero. Chi era quell’uomo che parlò con voi ieri notte fuori dalla vostra finestra fra le dodici e l’una? Ora, se siete vergine, rispondete a questo.
ERO	Non parlai con alcun uomo a quell’ora, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	Ebbene, allora non siete vergine. Leonato, mi duole che dobbiate udirlo. Sul mio onore, io stesso, mio fratello e questo Conte addolorato la vedemmo, la udimmo, a quell’ora la scorsa notte parlare con un ribaldo alla finestra della sua camera; il quale ha in verità, da furfante sfacciato, confessato i vili incontri che hanno avuto mille volte in segreto.
DON JUAN	Vergogna, vergogna, non sono da nominare, mio signore, non sono da dirsi. Non c’è castità bastante nel linguaggio per esprimerli senza offesa. Così, graziosa dama, mi duole per il tuo grande sregolamento.
CLAUDIO	O Ero! Quale Ero saresti stata se metà delle tue grazie esteriori fosse stata posta intorno ai tuoi pensieri e ai consigli del tuo cuore! Ma sta’ bene, tu, immondissima e bellissima, addio, tu pura empietà ed empia purezza. Per te sbarrerò tutte le porte dell’amore, e sulle mie palpebre starà sospeso il sospetto a mutare ogni bellezza in pensieri di male, e mai più essa sarà graziosa.
LEONATO	Non ha qui il pugnale di alcuno una punta per me? Ero cade a terra
BEATRICE	Ma come, cugina, perché ti abbatti così?
DON JUAN	Venite. Andiamo. Queste cose così venute alla luce le soffocano gli spiriti.
(didascalia)	Escono Don Pedro, Don Juan e Claudio
BENEDETTO	Come sta la dama?
BEATRICE	Morta, credo. Aiuto, zio. Ero, oh, Ero! Zio, signor Benedetto, Frate—
LEONATO	O destino, non ritrarre la tua mano pesante. La morte è la più bella coltre alla sua vergogna che si possa desiderare.
BEATRICE	Ebbene, cugina Ero?
FRATE	(a Ero) Fatevi coraggio, madonna.
LEONATO	(a Ero) Alzi lo sguardo?
FRATE	Sì, e perché non dovrebbe?
LEONATO	Perché? Ebbene, non grida ogni cosa terrena vergogna su di lei? Potrebbe ella qui negare la storia che è stampata nel suo sangue? Non vivere, Ero, non aprire gli occhi; ché se pensassi che non morirai presto, se credessi i tuoi spiriti più forti delle tue vergogne, io stesso, alla retroguardia dei rimproveri, colpirei la tua vita. Mi dolevo d’averne una sola? Ne rimproveravo per questo la parsimoniosa natura? Oh, una di troppo per causa tua! Perché ne ebbi una? Perché mai fosti amabile agli occhi miei? Perché non raccolsi con mano caritatevole alle mie porte la prole d’un mendicante, sicché, imbrattata così e infangata d’infamia, avrei potuto dire: «Nessuna parte di ciò è mia, questa vergogna deriva da lombi ignoti»? Ma era mia, e mia l’amavo, e mia la lodavo, e mia era quella di cui andavo fiero, mia tanto che io stesso a me stesso non ero mio, tanto la stimavo—ebbene ella, oh, ella è caduta in un pozzo d’inchiostro, tale che il vasto mare ha troppo poche gocce per lavarla di nuovo, e troppo poco sale per dare sapore alla sua carne immonda e corrotta.
BENEDETTO	Signore, signore, siate paziente. Per parte mia, sono tanto vestito di stupore che non so che dire.
BEATRICE	Oh, sull’anima mia, mia cugina è calunniata.
BENEDETTO	Madonna, dormivate voi con lei la scorsa notte?
BEATRICE	No, in verità no; benché fino alla scorsa notte per questi dodici mesi io abbia dormito con lei.
LEONATO	Confermato, confermato. Oh, così è reso più forte ciò che prima era sbarrato con costole di ferro. Mentirebbero i due principi? E mentirebbe Claudio, che l’amava tanto che, parlando della sua sozzura, la lavava con le lacrime? Via da lei, che muoia.
FRATE	Ascoltatemi un poco, ché sono rimasto in silenzio tanto a lungo e ho lasciato correre questo corso della sorte solo per osservare la dama. Ho notato mille apparizioni di rossore balzarle sul viso, e mille innocenti pudori in candore d’angelo scacciare quei rossori; e nel suo occhio è apparso un fuoco a bruciare gli errori che questi principi sostengono contro la sua verginale verità. Chiamatemi pazzo, non fidatevi delle mie letture né delle mie osservazioni, che con sigillo d’esperienza garantiscono il tenore del mio libro; non fidatevi della mia età, della mia reverenza, della mia vocazione né della mia teologia, se questa dolce dama non giace qui innocente sotto qualche mordente errore.
LEONATO	Frate, non può essere. Voi vedete che tutta la grazia che le resta è che non vuole aggiungere alla sua dannazione un peccato di spergiuro. Ella non nega. Perché cercate dunque di coprire con la scusa ciò che appare nella sua propria nudità?
FRATE	(a Ero) Madonna, chi è l’uomo di cui siete accusata?
ERO	Lo sanno coloro che mi accusano. Io non ne conosco alcuno. Se conosco di alcun uomo vivente più di quanto il verginale pudore consenta, siano tutti i miei peccati privi di misericordia. O padre mio, provate che un uomo abbia conversato con me a ore sconvenienti, o che io ieri notte abbia scambiato parole con creatura alcuna: ripudiatemi, odiatemi, torturatemi a morte.
FRATE	C’è qualche strano equivoco nei principi.
BENEDETTO	Due di loro hanno la vera tempra dell’onore; e se la loro saggezza è tratta in inganno in questo, l’artificio ne vive in Juan il bastardo, i cui spiriti si affaticano a ordire scelleratezze.
LEONATO	Io non so. Se dicono di lei solo la verità, queste mani la faranno a pezzi. Se offendono il suo onore, il più superbo di loro ne sentirà ben parlare. Il tempo non ha ancora tanto disseccato questo mio sangue, né l’età consumato il mio ingegno, né la fortuna fatto tale strage dei miei averi, né la mia cattiva vita spogliato di tanti amici, che essi non trovino desti, in tal caso, e forza di membra e accorgimento di mente, e mezzi bastanti, e scelta d’amici, da rendermi giustizia di loro pienamente.
FRATE	Attendete un poco, e lasciate che il mio consiglio vi guidi in questo caso. Vostra figlia, che i principi qui hanno lasciata per morta, sia per un poco tenuta segretamente nascosta, e si pubblichi che è morta davvero. Mantenete un’ostentazione di lutto, e sull’antico monumento della vostra famiglia appendete epitaffi funebri, e compite tutti i riti che appartengono a una sepoltura.
LEONATO	Che ne verrà di ciò? A che gioverà?
FRATE	Perbacco, questo, ben condotto, muterà in suo favore la calunnia in rimorso. Sarà già qualche bene. Ma non per questo sogno io questo strano corso, bensì da questo travaglio attendo un parto più grande. Ella—morendo, come si dovrà sostenere, nell’istante stesso in cui fu accusata— sarà compianta, commiserata e scusata da ogni ascoltatore. Ché così accade che ciò che abbiamo non lo stimiamo al suo valore mentre ne godiamo; ma, mancato e perduto, ebbene allora ne esaltiamo il pregio, allora scopriamo la virtù che il possesso non ci mostrava finché era nostra. Così andrà con Claudio. Quando udrà che ella è morta per le sue parole, l’idea della sua vita s’insinuerà dolcemente nella dimora della sua immaginazione, e ogni amabile aspetto della sua persona gli verrà innanzi vestito d’abito più prezioso, più delicatamente commovente e pieno di vita, all’occhio e alla prospettiva della sua anima, di quando ella viveva davvero. Allora egli piangerà, se mai l’amore ebbe parte nel suo fegato, e vorrà non averla così accusata, no, benché credesse vera la sua accusa. Sia fatto così, e non dubitate che l’esito foggerà l’evento in forma migliore di quanto io possa esporlo in verosimiglianza. Ma se ogni altra mira fosse puntata a vuoto, la supposizione della morte della dama spegnerà lo scalpore della sua infamia. E se non riesce bene, potrete nasconderla, come meglio conviene alla sua ferita reputazione, in qualche vita reclusa e religiosa, fuori da tutti gli occhi, le lingue, le menti e le offese.
BENEDETTO	Signor Leonato, lasciate che il Frate vi consigli. E benché sappiate che la mia intimità e il mio affetto vanno assai al Principe e a Claudio, tuttavia, sul mio onore, mi condurrò in questo con tanta segretezza e rettitudine quanta la vostra anima dovrebbe usare col vostro corpo.
LEONATO	Poiché trabocco di dolore, il più sottile filo può condurmi.
FRATE	È ben consentito. Via subito, ché a mali strani stranamente si tende la cura. (A Ero) Venite, madonna, morite per vivere. Questo giorno di nozze è forse solo differito. Abbiate pazienza, e sopportate.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Beatrice e Benedetto
BENEDETTO	Madonna Beatrice, avete pianto per tutto questo tempo?
BEATRICE	Sì, e piangerò ancora un poco.
BENEDETTO	Non lo desidero.
BEATRICE	Non ne avete ragione, lo faccio liberamente.
BENEDETTO	Credo di certo che la vostra bella cugina abbia subito un torto.
BEATRICE	Ah, quanto meriterebbe da me l’uomo che le rendesse giustizia!
BENEDETTO	C’è modo di mostrare una tale amicizia?
BEATRICE	Un modo piano e diritto, ma non un tale amico.
BENEDETTO	Può un uomo farlo?
BEATRICE	È ufficio d’uomo, ma non vostro.
BENEDETTO	Non amo nulla al mondo tanto bene quanto voi. Non è strano?
BEATRICE	Strano come la cosa che non conosco. Mi sarebbe altrettanto possibile dire che non amo nulla tanto bene quanto voi; ma non credetemi, e tuttavia non mento. Non confesso nulla né nulla nego. Mi duole per mia cugina.
BENEDETTO	Per la mia spada, Beatrice, tu mi ami.
BEATRICE	Non giurate per poi rimangiarvelo.
BENEDETTO	Giurerò per essa che voi mi amate, e farò rimangiare la parola a chi dice che io non vi amo.
BEATRICE	Non vi rimangerete la parola?
BENEDETTO	Con nessuna salsa che si possa escogitare. Protesto che ti amo.
BEATRICE	Ebbene, Dio mi perdoni.
BENEDETTO	Quale offesa, dolce Beatrice?
BEATRICE	Mi avete fermata in un’ora felice. Stavo per protestare che vi amavo.
BENEDETTO	E fallo con tutto il tuo cuore.
BEATRICE	Vi amo con tanta parte del mio cuore che non ne resta per protestarlo.
BENEDETTO	Su, ordinami di fare qualunque cosa per te.
BEATRICE	Uccidete Claudio.
BENEDETTO	Ah! Non per tutto il vasto mondo.
BEATRICE	Uccidete me a negarlo. Addio.
BENEDETTO	Fermati, dolce Beatrice.
BEATRICE	Sono già andata, benché sia qui. Non c’è amore in voi.—Anzi, vi prego, lasciatemi andare. 295
BENEDETTO	Beatrice.
BEATRICE	In fede mia, me ne andrò.
BENEDETTO	Faremo prima la pace.
BEATRICE	Osate più facilmente essere amico mio che battervi col mio nemico.
BENEDETTO	È Claudio tuo nemico?
BEATRICE	Non s’è egli mostrato al sommo un furfante, avendo calunniato, schernito, disonorato la mia congiunta? Oh, fossi io un uomo! Come, tenerla in sospeso finché non si viene a darsi la mano, e poi con pubblica accusa, calunnia scoperta, rancore senza mitigazione—o Dio, fossi io un uomo! Gli mangerei il cuore in mezzo alla piazza.
BENEDETTO	Ascoltami, Beatrice.
BEATRICE	Parlare con un uomo da una finestra—bel discorso davvero!
BENEDETTO	Ma no, Beatrice.
BEATRICE	Dolce Ero, le è fatto torto, è calunniata, è rovinata.
BENEDETTO	Bea—
BEATRICE	Principi e conti! Certo una testimonianza principesca, un bel conte, il conte Confetto, un dolce galante, di certo. Oh, fossi io un uomo per amor suo! O avessi un amico che volesse essere uomo per amor mio! Ma la virilità s’è sciolta in convenevoli, il valore in complimenti, e gli uomini si sono ridotti a pura lingua, e delle più eleganti. Ormai è valoroso come Ercole colui che soltanto dice una menzogna e la giura. Non posso farmi uomo col desiderarlo, perciò morirò donna di dolore. 324
BENEDETTO	Fermati, buona Beatrice. Per questa mano, ti amo.
BEATRICE	Usatela per il mio amore in altro modo che a giurarci sopra.
BENEDETTO	Pensate nella vostra anima che il conte Claudio abbia fatto torto a Ero?
BEATRICE	Sì, com’è certo che ho un pensiero o un’anima.
BENEDETTO	Basta, sono impegnato, lo sfiderò. Vi bacerò la mano, e così vi lascio. Per questa mano, Claudio me ne renderà caro conto. Come sentirete parlare di me, così pensate di me. Andate a confortare vostra cugina. Devo dire che è morta. E così, addio. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Dogberry and Verges the constables, and the Sexton, in gowns, and the Watch, with Conrad and Borachio
DOGBERRY	Is our whole dissembly appeared?
VERGES	O, a stool and a cushion for the Sexton.
(didascalia)	SEXTON sits Which be the malefactors?
DOGBERRY	Marry, that am I, and my partner.
VERGES	Nay, that’s certain, we have the exhibition to 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?
BORACHIO	Borachio.
DOGBERRY	(to the Sexton) Pray write down ‘Borachio’. (To Conrad) Yours, sirrah?
CONRAD	I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrad.
DOGBERRY	Write down ‘Master Gentleman Conrad’.—Masters, do you serve God?
CONRAD	and 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 that you are little better than false knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves?
CONRAD	Marry, sir, we say we are none.
DOGBERRY	A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you, but 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 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 watch come forth. Masters, I charge you in the Prince’s name accuse these men.
FIRST WATCHMAN	This man said, sir, that Don John, the Prince’s brother, was a villain.
DOGBERRY	Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this 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?
SECOND 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.
SEXTON	What else, fellow?
FIRST 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 everlasting redemption for this.
SEXTON	What else?
WATCH	This is all.
SEXTON	And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away. 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
DOGBERRY	Come, let them be opinioned.
VERGES	Let them be, in the hands—
(didascalia)	CONRAD Off, coxcomb!
DOGBERRY	God’s my life, where’s the Sexton? Let him write down the Prince’s officer coxcomb. Come, bind them. Thou naughty varlet!
CONRAD	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 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 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! Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Dogberry e Verges, i capiguardia, e il Sagrestano, in toga, e la Ronda, con Corrado e Borachio
DOGBERRY	È comparsa tutta la nostra dissemblea?
VERGES	Oh, uno sgabello e un cuscino per il Sagrestano.
(didascalia)	Il SAGRESTANO si siede Chi sono i malfattori?
DOGBERRY	Perbacco, quello sono io, e il mio compare.
VERGES	Anzi, questo è certo, abbiamo l’esibizione da esaminare.
SAGRESTANO	Ma quali sono i colpevoli che devono essere esaminati? Che vengano davanti a messer Capoguardia.
DOGBERRY	Sì, perbacco, che vengano davanti a me. Come ti chiami, amico?
BORACHIO	Borachio.
DOGBERRY	(al Sagrestano) Vi prego, scrivete «Borachio». (A Corrado) Il vostro, messere?
CORRADO	Sono un gentiluomo, signore, e il mio nome è Corrado.
DOGBERRY	Scrivete «Messer Gentiluomo Corrado».—Padroni, servite voi Dio?
CORRADO	e BORACHIO Sì, signore, lo speriamo.
DOGBERRY	Scrivete che sperano di servire Dio. E scrivete «Dio» per primo, ché Dio non voglia che Dio non vada innanzi a simili furfanti. Padroni, è già provato che non siete molto meglio di falsi bricconi, e presto ci si andrà vicino a pensarlo. Che rispondete per voi stessi?
CORRADO	Perbacco, signore, diciamo che non lo siamo.
DOGBERRY	Un tipo meravigliosamente arguto, ve l’assicuro, ma lo prenderò per il verso giusto. Vieni qua, messere. Una parola nel tuo orecchio, signore. Ti dico che si pensa che siate falsi bricconi.
BORACHIO	Signore, io vi dico che non lo siamo.
DOGBERRY	Be’, fatevi da parte. Davanti a Dio, sono tutti e due della stessa storia. Avete scritto che non lo sono?
SAGRESTANO	Messer Capoguardia, non prendete la via giusta per esaminare. Dovete chiamare avanti la ronda che è loro accusatrice.
DOGBERRY	Sì, perbacco, questa è la via più spiccia. Che venga avanti la ronda. Padroni, v’ingiungo in nome del Principe di accusare questi uomini.
PRIMA GUARDIA	Quest’uomo ha detto, signore, che Don Juan, il fratello del Principe, era un furfante.
DOGBERRY	Scrivete che il principe Juan è un furfante. Perbacco, questo è spergiuro bell’e buono, chiamare furfante il fratello d’un principe.
BORACHIO	Messer Capoguardia.
DOGBERRY	Ti prego, compare, taci. Non mi piace il tuo aspetto, te lo prometto.
SAGRESTANO	Che altro l’avete udito dire?
SECONDA GUARDIA	Perbacco, che aveva ricevuto mille ducati da Don Juan per accusare ingiustamente madonna Ero.
DOGBERRY	Furto con scasso bell’e buono, come mai se ne commise.
VERGES	Sì, per la messa, così è.
SAGRESTANO	Che altro, compare?
PRIMA GUARDIA	E che il conte Claudio intendeva, sulle sue parole, svergognare Ero davanti a tutta l’assemblea, e non sposarla.
DOGBERRY	O furfante! Sarai condannato alla redenzione eterna per questo.
SAGRESTANO	Che altro?
RONDA	Questo è tutto.
SAGRESTANO	E questo è più, padroni, di quanto possiate negare. Il principe Juan è fuggito via segretamente stamattina. Ero fu in questo modo accusata, proprio in questo modo rifiutata, e per il dolore di ciò è morta d’improvviso. Messer Capoguardia, che questi uomini siano legati e condotti da Leonato. Andrò avanti io e gli mostrerò il loro interrogatorio. Esce
DOGBERRY	Su, che siano opinionati.
VERGES	Che siano, nelle mani—
(didascalia)	CORRADO Giù le mani, testa di rapa!
DOGBERRY	Per la mia vita, dov’è il Sagrestano? Che scriva che l’ufficiale del Principe è una testa di rapa. Su, legateli. Furfantello che non sei altro!
CORRADO	Via, siete un asino, siete un asino.
DOGBERRY	Non sospetti tu la mia carica? Non sospetti tu i miei anni? Oh, fosse qui lui a scrivermi asino! Ma padroni, ricordate che io sono un asino. Benché non sia messo per iscritto, non dimenticate però che io sono un asino. No, tu furfante, tu sei pieno di pietà, come ti sarà provato contro con buoni testimoni. Io sono un tipo saggio, e quel che più conta, un ufficiale, e quel che più conta, un capofamiglia, e quel che più conta, un bel pezzo di carne quanto ce n’è a Messina, e uno che conosce la legge, andiamo, e un tipo abbastanza ricco, andiamo, e un tipo che ha avuto perdite, e uno che ha due toghe, e ogni cosa a modo addosso. Portatelo via. Oh, fossi stato scritto asino! Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato and Antonio his brother ANTONIO
(didascalia)	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 overwhelmed like mine, And bid him speak of patience. 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 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 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 pish at chance and sufferance.
ANTONIO	Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself. Make those that do offend you suffer, too.
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.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro the Prince and Claudio
ANTONIO	Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.
DON PEDRO	Good e‘en, good e’en.
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 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 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 What I have done being young, or what would do Were I not old. Know Claudio to thy head, Thou hast so wronged 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 Save this of hers, framed 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, His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.
CLAUDIO	Away, I will not have to do with you.
LEONATO	Canst thou so doff me? Thou hast killed my child. If thou kill’st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
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, slandered to death by villains That dare as well answer a man indeed As I dare take a serpent by the tongue. 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, Go anticly, and show an outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst, And this is all.
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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Leonato and Antonio
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick
DON PEDRO	See, see, here comes the man we went to seek.
CLAUDIO	Now signor, what news?
BENEDICK	(to Don Pedro) Good day, my lord.
DON PEDRO	Welcome, signor. You are almost come to part almost a fray.
CLAUDIO	We had liked 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.
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?
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 an 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.
BENEDICK	(aside to Claudio) Shall I speak a word in your ear?
CLAUDIO	God bless me from a challenge.
BENEDICK	You are a villain. I jest not. 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. 149
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? 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 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 trans-shape 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?
CLAUDIO	Yea, and text underneath, ‘Here dwells Benedick the married man’.
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. (To Don Pedro) 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.
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! 196
(didascalia)	Enter Dogberry and Verges the constables, the Watch, Conrad, and Borachio
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	(to Conrad and Borachio) 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 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.
DON PEDRO	(to Claudio) Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?
CLAUDIO	I have drunk poison whiles he uttered it.
DON PEDRO	(to Borachio) But did my brother set thee on to this?
BORACHIO	Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it.
DON PEDRO	He is composed and framed of treachery, And fled he is upon this villainy.
CLAUDIO	Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I loved it first.
DOGBERRY	Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this time our Sexton hath reformed Signor 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 Signor Leonato, and the Sexton, too.
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio his brother, 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 killed 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, Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself, Impose me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my sin. Yet sinned 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 How innocent she died, and if your love Can labour aught in sad invention, 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, 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. 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, Who I believe was packed 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, But always hath been just and virtuous In anything that I do know by her.
DOGBERRY	(to Leonato) 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 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.
DOGBERRY	Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth, and I praise God for you.
LEONATO	(giving him money) 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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Dogberry and Verges
LEONATO	Until tomorrow morning, lords, farewell.
ANTONIO	Farewell, my lords. We look for you tomorrow.
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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato e Antonio suo fratello ANTONIO
(didascalia)	Se andate avanti così, vi ucciderete, e non è saggezza spalleggiare il dolore contro voi stesso.
LEONATO	Ti prego, cessa il tuo consiglio, che cade nei miei orecchi senza più frutto dell’acqua in un vaglio. Non dare consigli a me, né mi diletti l’orecchio alcun consolatore se non uno i cui torti s’accordino ai miei. Portatemi un padre che tanto amasse la sua creatura, la cui gioia di lei sia travolta come la mia, e ditegli di parlare di pazienza. Misurate il suo dolore in lunghezza e larghezza col mio, e che risponda a ogni fitta con una fitta, a questo con questo, e a tale dolore tale, in ogni lineamento, ramo, sagoma e forma. Se un tal uomo sorriderà e si liscerà la barba, dirà al dolore d’andarsene, farà «ehm» quando dovrebbe gemere, rattopperà il lutto con proverbi, ubriacherà la sventura con consumatori di candele, portatemelo pure, e da lui coglierò pazienza. Ma un tal uomo non c’è, ché, fratello, gli uomini sanno consigliare e dir conforto a quel dolore che essi stessi non sentono; ma gustandolo, il loro consiglio si muta in passione, esso che prima voleva dare medicina di precetti alla rabbia, incatenare la forte follia con un filo di seta, incantare la doglia con l’aria e l’agonia con parole. No, no, è ufficio di tutti gli uomini predicare pazienza a chi si torce sotto il carico del dolore, ma non è virtù né sufficienza d’alcun uomo essere tanto morale quando dovrà sopportare egli stesso il simile. Perciò non datemi consigli. I miei dolori gridano più forte dell’ammonimento.
ANTONIO	In questo gli uomini non differiscono affatto dai fanciulli.
LEONATO	Ti prego, taci, io sarò carne e sangue, ché non ci fu mai filosofo che potesse sopportare pazientemente il mal di denti, per quanto abbiano scritto nello stile degli dèi e fatto spallucce alla sorte e al patire.
ANTONIO	Eppure non volgete tutto il male su voi stesso. Fate soffrire anche coloro che vi offendono.
LEONATO	Qui parli con ragione, anzi, così farò. La mia anima mi dice che Ero è calunniata, e questo lo saprà Claudio, e così il Principe, e tutti coloro che così la disonorano.
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro il Principe e Claudio
ANTONIO	Ecco che vengono in fretta il Principe e Claudio.
DON PEDRO	Buona sera, buona sera.
CLAUDIO	Buon giorno a voi due.
LEONATO	Mi udite, miei signori?
DON PEDRO	Abbiamo un po’ di fretta, Leonato.
LEONATO	Un po’ di fretta, mio signore! Be’, state bene, mio signore. Siete così frettoloso ora? Be’, è tutt’uno.
DON PEDRO	Ma no, non venite a briga con noi, buon vecchio.
ANTONIO	Se potesse farsi giustizia venendo a briga, qualcuno di noi giacerebbe a terra.
CLAUDIO	Chi gli fa torto?
LEONATO	Perbacco, tu mi fai torto, tu simulatore, tu. Anzi, non posare mai la mano sulla tua spada, io non ti temo.
CLAUDIO	Perbacco, maledetta la mia mano se dovesse dare alla vostra età tale motivo di timore. In fede mia, la mia mano non mirava affatto alla mia spada.
LEONATO	Basta, basta, uomo, non ghignare né scherzare su di me. Io non parlo da rimbambito né da pazzo, quasi che, col privilegio dell’età, mi vantassi di quel che ho fatto da giovane, o di quel che farei se non fossi vecchio. Sappi, Claudio, in faccia, che hai fatto tal torto alla mia innocente figlia e a me ch’io sono costretto a deporre la mia reverenza e con capelli grigi e i lividi di molti giorni ti sfido alla prova d’un uomo. Dico che hai calunniato la mia innocente figlia. La tua calunnia le ha traversato il cuore da parte a parte, ed ella giace sepolta coi suoi antenati, oh, in una tomba dove mai dormì scandalo tranne questo suo, ordito dalla tua scelleratezza.
CLAUDIO	La mia scelleratezza?
LEONATO	La tua, Claudio, la tua, dico.
DON PEDRO	Non dite il vero, vecchio.
LEONATO	Mio signore, mio signore, lo proverò sul suo corpo s’egli osa, a dispetto della sua bella scherma e del suo esercizio attivo, del suo maggio di giovinezza e del fiore del suo vigore.
CLAUDIO	Via, non voglio aver che fare con voi.
LEONATO	Puoi tu così scrollarmi via? Hai ucciso la mia creatura. Se uccidi me, ragazzo, ucciderai un uomo.
ANTONIO	Ne ucciderà due di noi, e uomini davvero. Ma questo non importa, che ne uccida prima uno. Mi vinca e mi porti. Che risponda a me. Su, seguimi, ragazzo, su, signorino, su, seguimi, signorino, ti scaccerò a frustate dalla tua scherma di stoccate. Anzi, com’è vero che sono un gentiluomo, lo farò.
LEONATO	Fratello.
ANTONIO	Datevi pace. Dio sa che amavo mia nipote, ed ella è morta, calunniata a morte da furfanti che osano rispondere a un uomo davvero tanto bene quanto io oso prendere un serpente per la lingua. Ragazzi, scimmie, spacconi, buffoni, smidollati!
LEONATO	Fratello Antonio—
ANTONIO	Datevi pace. Ma come, uomo, io li conosco, sì, e so quanto pesano, fino all’ultimo scrupolo. Ragazzi rissosi, sfrontati, mercanti di mode, che mentono, e barano, e scherniscono, depravano e calunniano, vanno in fogge stravaganti e mostrano un’orrida apparenza, e sparano una mezza dozzina di parole pericolose su come potrebbero far male ai loro nemici, se osassero, e questo è tutto.
LEONATO	Ma fratello Antonio—
ANTONIO	Su, non importa, non v’immischiate voi, lasciate che me ne occupi io.
DON PEDRO	Signori, entrambi, non vogliamo destare la vostra pazienza. Il mio cuore si duole per la morte di vostra figlia, ma sul mio onore ella non fu accusata di nulla se non di ciò che era vero e pienissimo di prove.
LEONATO	Mio signore, mio signore—
DON PEDRO	Non voglio ascoltarvi.
LEONATO	No? Venite, fratello, andiamo. Sarò ascoltato.
ANTONIO	E lo sarete, o qualcuno di noi ne pagherà il fio.
(didascalia)	Escono Leonato e Antonio
(didascalia)	Entra Benedetto
DON PEDRO	Guardate, guardate, ecco l’uomo che andavamo cercando.
CLAUDIO	Ebbene, signore, che novità?
BENEDETTO	(a Don Pedro) Buon giorno, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	Benvenuto, signore. Siete arrivato quasi in tempo a separare quasi una rissa.
CLAUDIO	Poco ci mancò che ci facessimo mozzare i due nasi da due vecchi senza denti.
DON PEDRO	Leonato e suo fratello. Che ne pensi? Se avessimo combattuto, dubito che saremmo stati troppo giovani per loro.
BENEDETTO	In una briga falsa non c’è vero valore. Venivo a cercarvi entrambi.
CLAUDIO	Siamo andati su e giù a cercarti, ché siamo malinconici a tutta prova e vorremmo volentieri scacciarlo via a bastonate. Vuoi usare il tuo spirito?
BENEDETTO	È nel mio fodero. Devo sguainarlo?
DON PEDRO	Porti il tuo spirito al fianco?
CLAUDIO	Nessuno mai lo fece, benché moltissimi siano stati fuori del proprio spirito. Ti dirò di sguainare come si dice ai menestrelli: tira fuori per farci piacere.
DON PEDRO	Com’è vero che sono un uomo onesto, ha l’aria pallida. Sei malato o adirato?
CLAUDIO	Suvvia, coraggio, uomo. Che importa se la cura ha ucciso un gatto? Hai fegato bastante in te per uccidere la cura.
BENEDETTO	Signore, incontrerò il vostro spirito nella corsa, se lo caricherete contro di me. Vi prego, scegliete un altro soggetto.
CLAUDIO	E allora dategli un’altra lancia. Quest’ultima s’è spezzata di traverso.
DON PEDRO	Per questa luce, cambia sempre più. Credo che sia adirato davvero.
CLAUDIO	Se lo è, sa come girare la cintura.
BENEDETTO	(in disparte a Claudio) Posso dirvi una parola nell’orecchio?
CLAUDIO	Dio mi guardi da una sfida.
BENEDETTO	Voi siete un furfante. Non scherzo. Lo sosterrò come osate, con ciò che osate e quando osate. Rendetemi ragione, o proclamerò la vostra viltà. Avete ucciso una dolce dama, e la sua morte ricadrà pesante su di voi. Fatemi sapere da voi. 149
CLAUDIO	Be’, v’incontrerò, purché possa avere buona cera.
DON PEDRO	Come, un festino, un festino?
CLAUDIO	In fede mia, lo ringrazio, mi ha invitato a una testa di vitello e a un cappone, i quali, se non li trincerò con somma finezza, dite pure che il mio coltello non vale nulla. Non ci troverò anche una beccaccia? 155
BENEDETTO	Signore, il vostro spirito ambia bene, va di buon passo.
DON PEDRO	Ti dirò come Beatrice lodò il tuo spirito l’altro giorno. Dissi che avevi un fine spirito. «Vero», disse lei, «un fine spiritino.» «No», dissi io, «un grande spirito.» «Giusto», dice lei, «un grande spirito grossolano.» «Anzi», dissi io, «un buono spirito.» «Appunto», disse lei, «non fa male a nessuno.» «Anzi», dissi io, «il gentiluomo è saggio.» «Certo», disse lei, «un saggio gentiluomo.» «Anzi», dissi io, «egli possiede le lingue.» «Questo lo credo», disse lei, «ché mi giurò una cosa lunedì notte che spergiurò martedì mattina. Ecco una lingua doppia, ecco due lingue.» Così, per un’ora di seguito, ella trasfigurò le tue particolari virtù; eppure alla fine concluse con un sospiro che tu eri l’uomo più a modo d’Italia.
CLAUDIO	Per la qual cosa pianse di cuore e disse che non le importava.
DON PEDRO	Sì, così fece. Ma tuttavia, con tutto ciò, se non lo odiasse a morte lo amerebbe teneramente. La figlia del vecchio ci ha raccontato tutto.
CLAUDIO	Tutto, tutto. E per di più, Dio lo vide quando era nascosto nel giardino.
DON PEDRO	Ma quando pianteremo le corna del toro selvaggio sulla testa del sensato Benedetto?
CLAUDIO	Sì, e sotto la scritta: «Qui abita Benedetto l’ammogliato».
BENEDETTO	State bene, ragazzo, sapete che cosa penso. Vi lascio ora al vostro umore da comari. Voi spezzate motteggi come gli spacconi le loro lame, le quali, Dio sia ringraziato, non feriscono. (A Don Pedro) Mio signore, per le vostre molte cortesie vi ringrazio. Devo interrompere la vostra compagnia. Vostro fratello il bastardo è fuggito da Messina. Voi tra voi avete ucciso una dolce e innocente dama. Quanto al mio signor Senzabarba là, lui e io ci incontreremo, e fino ad allora, pace sia con lui. Esce
DON PEDRO	Fa sul serio.
CLAUDIO	Sul più profondo serio, e, ve lo garantisco, per l’amore di Beatrice.
DON PEDRO	E ti ha sfidato.
CLAUDIO	Sinceramente del tutto.
DON PEDRO	Che bella cosa è l’uomo quando va in farsetto e calzoni e lascia da parte il suo spirito! 196
(didascalia)	Entrano Dogberry e Verges i capiguardia, la Ronda, Corrado e Borachio
CLAUDIO	È allora un gigante rispetto a una scimmia. Ma allora una scimmia è un dottore rispetto a un tal uomo.
DON PEDRO	Ma piano, lasciatemi stare. Fatti animo, cuore mio, e sii triste. Non disse che mio fratello era fuggito?
DOGBERRY	Venite avanti, signore; se la giustizia non può domarvi, non peserà mai più ragioni sulla sua bilancia. Anzi, se una volta siete un ipocrita bestemmiatore, bisogna tenervi d’occhio.
DON PEDRO	Come va, due uomini di mio fratello legati? Borachio è uno.
CLAUDIO	Informatevi della loro colpa, mio signore.
DON PEDRO	Ufficiali, che colpa hanno commesso questi uomini?
DOGBERRY	Perbacco, signore, hanno commesso falso rapporto; per di più hanno detto menzogne; secondariamente sono calunnie; sesto e ultimo hanno calunniato una dama; terzo hanno verificato cose ingiuste; e per concludere, sono bricconi bugiardi.
DON PEDRO	Primo ti chiedo che cosa abbiano fatto; terzo ti chiedo qual è la loro colpa; sesto e ultimo perché siano stati arrestati; e per concludere, di che cosa li accusate.
CLAUDIO	Ragionato a puntino, e con la sua stessa divisione. E in fede mia, ecco un solo significato ben vestito.
DON PEDRO	(a Corrado e Borachio) Chi avete offeso, padroni, per essere così legati a rispondere? Questo dotto capoguardia è troppo astuto per essere capito. Qual è la vostra colpa?
BORACHIO	Dolce Principe, lasciate che non vada oltre nella mia risposta. Ascoltatemi voi, e che questo Conte mi uccida. Ho ingannato perfino i vostri stessi occhi. Ciò che le vostre saggezze non poterono scoprire, questi sciocchi superficiali l’hanno portato alla luce: essi nella notte mi udirono confessare a quest’uomo come Don Juan vostro fratello m’incitò a calunniare madonna Ero, come voi foste condotti nel frutteto e mi vedeste corteggiare Margherita nelle vesti di Ero, come voi la svergognaste quando dovevate sposarla. La mia scelleratezza l’hanno messa a verbale, e preferirei sigillarla con la mia morte che ripeterla a mia vergogna. La dama è morta per la falsa accusa mia e del mio padrone; e in breve, non desidero altro che la ricompensa d’un furfante.
DON PEDRO	(a Claudio) Non corre questo discorso come ferro attraverso il vostro sangue?
CLAUDIO	Ho bevuto veleno mentre lo pronunciava.
DON PEDRO	(a Borachio) Ma fu mio fratello a spingerti a questo?
BORACHIO	Sì, e mi pagò riccamente per la sua esecuzione.
DON PEDRO	Egli è composto e formato di tradimento, ed è fuggito dopo questa scelleratezza.
CLAUDIO	Dolce Ero, ora la tua immagine mi appare in quella rara sembianza in cui prima l’amai.
DOGBERRY	Su, portate via i querelanti. Ormai a quest’ora il nostro Sagrestano avrà riformato il signor Leonato della faccenda. E, padroni, non dimenticate di specificare, quando tempo e luogo lo consentiranno, che io sono un asino.
VERGES	Ecco, ecco che viene messer signor Leonato, e anche il Sagrestano.
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato, Antonio suo fratello e il Sagrestano
LEONATO	Qual è il furfante? Fatemene vedere gli occhi, sì che quando noterò un altro uomo simile a lui possa evitarlo. Chi di questi è?
BORACHIO	Se volete conoscere chi vi ha fatto torto, guardate me.
LEONATO	Sei tu lo schiavo che col tuo fiato hai ucciso la mia innocente figlia?
BORACHIO	Sì, io solo.
LEONATO	No, non è così, furfante, tu menti su te stesso. Qui stanno due uomini onorevoli. Un terzo è fuggito, che vi ebbe mano. Vi ringrazio, Principi, per la morte di mia figlia. Registratela fra le vostre alte e degne imprese. Fu fatto valorosamente, se ci ripensate.
CLAUDIO	Non so come implorare la vostra pazienza, eppure devo parlare. Scegliete voi stesso la vostra vendetta, imponetemi qualunque penitenza la vostra invenzione possa porre sul mio peccato. Eppure non peccai se non per errore.
DON PEDRO	Sulla mia anima, nemmeno io, eppure, per soddisfare questo buon vecchio, mi piegherei sotto qualunque grave peso egli m’ingiungesse.
LEONATO	Non posso chiedervi di far vivere mia figlia— sarebbe impossibile—ma vi prego entrambi d’informare la gente qui a Messina di quanto innocente ella morì; e se il vostro amore può travagliarsi in qualche mesta invenzione, appendetele un epitaffio sulla tomba e cantatelo alle sue ossa, cantatelo stanotte. Domani mattina venite alla mia casa, e poiché non poteste essere mio genero, siate almeno mio nipote. Mio fratello ha una figlia, quasi la copia della mia creatura che è morta, ed ella sola è erede di noi due. Datele il diritto che avreste dovuto dare a sua cugina, e così muore la mia vendetta.
CLAUDIO	O nobile signore! La vostra troppa bontà mi strappa lacrime. Accetto la vostra offerta; e disponete d’ora innanzi del povero Claudio.
LEONATO	Domani dunque attenderò la vostra venuta. Stanotte prendo congedo. Questo uomo malvagio sarà messo a faccia a faccia con Margherita, la quale credo fosse d’accordo in tutto questo torto, assoldata a ciò da vostro fratello.
BORACHIO	No, sulla mia anima, non lo era, né sapeva ciò che faceva quando mi parlò, ma è sempre stata giusta e virtuosa in tutto ciò che io so di lei.
DOGBERRY	(a Leonato) Per di più, signore, cosa che in verità non sta sotto il bianco e il nero: questo querelante qui, il colpevole, mi ha chiamato asino. Vi supplico, che se ne tenga memoria nella sua punizione. E inoltre la ronda li ha uditi parlare d’un certo Deforme. Dicono che porta una chiave all’orecchio e un ricciolo che vi pende, e prende denaro in prestito in nome di Dio, cosa che ha usato tanto a lungo senza mai pagare che ora gli uomini diventano di cuore duro e non vogliono prestare nulla per amor di Dio. Vi prego, esaminatelo su quel punto.
LEONATO	Ti ringrazio per la tua cura e le tue oneste fatiche.
DOGBERRY	Vossignoria parla come un giovane assai riconoscente e reverendo, e lodo Dio per voi.
LEONATO	(dandogli del denaro) Ecco per le tue fatiche.
DOGBERRY	Dio salvi la fondazione.
LEONATO	Va’. Ti sollevo dal tuo prigioniero, e ti ringrazio.
DOGBERRY	Lascio a vossignoria un briccone matricolato, che supplico vossignoria di correggere voi stesso, a esempio degli altri. Dio guardi vossignoria, auguro a vossignoria ogni bene. Dio vi restituisca la salute. Umilmente vi do licenza di partire, e se un lieto incontro è da desiderarsi, Dio lo proibisca. Venite, vicino.
(didascalia)	Escono Dogberry e Verges
LEONATO	Fino a domani mattina, signori, addio.
ANTONIO	Addio, miei signori. Vi aspettiamo domani.
DON PEDRO	Non mancheremo.
CLAUDIO	Stanotte piangerò con Ero.
LEONATO	(alla Ronda) Portate avanti questi tipi.—Parleremo con Margherita di come nacque la sua conoscenza con questo tipo osceno.
(didascalia)	Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Benedick and Margaret
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?
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?
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 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 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. (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 swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full 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 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 festival terms.
(didascalia)	Enter Beatrice
BENEDICK	Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
BEATRICE	Yea, signor, and depart when you bid me.
BENEDICK	O, stay but till then.
BEATRICE	‘Then’ is spoken. Fare you well now. And yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.
BENEDICK	Only foul words, and thereupon I will kiss thee.
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, 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 maintain so 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.
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 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.
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 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?
BEATRICE	Very ill too.
BENEDICK	Serve God, love me, and mend. There will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.
(didascalia)	Enter Ursula
URSULA	Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder’s old coil at home. It is proved my lady Hero 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, signor?
BENEDICK	I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes. And moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle’s. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Benedetto e Margherita
BENEDETTO	Ti prego, dolce madonna Margherita, meritati bene delle mie mani aiutandomi a ottenere un colloquio con Beatrice.
MARGHERITA	Mi scriverete allora un sonetto in lode della mia bellezza?
BENEDETTO	In stile così alto, Margherita, che nessun uomo vivente potrà passarci sopra; ché, in tutta avvenente verità, tu lo meriti.
MARGHERITA	Che nessun uomo mi passi sopra—perbacco, dovrò dunque restare sempre di sotto?
BENEDETTO	Il tuo spirito è svelto come la bocca del levriero: acchiappa.
MARGHERITA	E il vostro è spuntato come i fioretti dello schermidore, che colpiscono ma non feriscono.
BENEDETTO	Uno spirito assai virile, Margherita: non ferirà una donna. E perciò ti prego, chiama Beatrice. Ti cedo gli scudi.
MARGHERITA	Dateci le spade. Gli scudi li abbiamo di nostro.
BENEDETTO	Se li usate, Margherita, dovete mettervi le punte con una morsa—e sono armi pericolose per le fanciulle.
MARGHERITA	Be’, vi chiamerò Beatrice, che credo abbia gambe. Esce
BENEDETTO	E perciò verrà. (Canta) Il dio d’amore che siede lassù, e mi conosce, e mi conosce, quanto pietoso io meriti— voglio dire nel cantare; ma nell’amare, Leandro il buon nuotatore, Troilo il primo che si servì di mezzani, e un libro intero pieno di questi antichi damerini da tappeto, i cui nomi scorrono ancora lisci sulla piana strada d’un verso sciolto, ebbene, essi non furono mai rivoltati tanto sinceramente quanto il mio povero io in amore. Perbacco, non so mostrarlo in rima. Ci ho provato. Non trovo rima per «dama» se non «brama», rima innocente; per «scorno» «corno», rima dura; per «scuola» «figliuola», rima cianciera. Terminazioni assai sinistre. No, io non nacqui sotto un pianeta rimatore, né so corteggiare in termini di festa.
(didascalia)	Entra Beatrice
BENEDETTO	Dolce Beatrice, verresti tu quando ti chiamo?
BEATRICE	Sì, signore, e me ne andrei quando me l’ordinate.
BENEDETTO	Oh, restate solo fino ad allora.
BEATRICE	«Allora» è detto. State bene, ora. E tuttavia, prima ch’io vada, lasciate ch’io me ne vada con ciò per cui venni, cioè col sapere che cosa sia passato fra voi e Claudio.
BENEDETTO	Soltanto brutte parole; e su ciò ti bacerò.
BEATRICE	Le brutte parole non sono che brutto vento, e il brutto vento non è che brutto fiato, e il brutto fiato è nauseante; perciò me ne andrò senza baci.
BENEDETTO	Hai spaventato la parola fuori dal suo giusto senso, tanto è forte il tuo spirito. Ma devo dirtelo chiaro: Claudio ha ricevuto la mia sfida, e o devo avere presto sue nuove o lo bollerò per codardo. E ora ti prego, dimmi: per quale delle mie cattive parti cadesti tu dapprima in amore di me?
BEATRICE	Per tutte insieme, che mantengono uno stato del male tanto politico da non ammettere che alcuna buona parte si mescoli a loro. Ma per quale delle mie buone parti soffriste dapprima amore per me?
BENEDETTO	Soffrire amore—buon epiteto. Soffro amore davvero, ché ti amo contro la mia volontà.
BEATRICE	A dispetto del vostro cuore, credo. Ahimè, povero cuore. Se lo dispettate per amor mio, io lo dispetterò per amor vostro, ché non amerò mai ciò che il mio amico odia.
BENEDETTO	Tu e io siamo troppo saggi per corteggiare pacificamente.
BEATRICE	Non pare, da questa confessione. Non c’è un uomo saggio su venti che voglia lodare sé stesso.
BENEDETTO	Un vecchio, un vecchio adagio, Beatrice, che visse al tempo dei buoni vicini. Se un uomo in questa età non si erige la propria tomba prima di morire, non vivrà in monumento più a lungo di quanto suoni la campana e pianga la vedova.
BEATRICE	E quanto dura questo, secondo voi?
BENEDETTO	Domanda—perbacco, un’ora di clamore e un quarto d’ora di raffreddore. Perciò è quanto mai opportuno per il saggio, se don Verme—la sua coscienza—non trova impedimento in contrario, essere la tromba delle proprie virtù, come io lo sono a me stesso. E basta così col lodare me stesso, il quale, ne farò io stesso testimonianza, è degno di lode. E ora ditemi: come sta vostra cugina?
BEATRICE	Molto male.
BENEDETTO	E voi come state?
BEATRICE	Molto male anch’io.
BENEDETTO	Servite Dio, amate me, ed emendatevi. Qui vi lascio anch’io, ché ecco venire qualcuno in fretta.
(didascalia)	Entra Orsola
ORSOLA	Madonna, dovete venire da vostro zio. Là a casa c’è un gran subbuglio. È provato che madonna Ero è stata falsamente accusata, che il Principe e Claudio sono stati grandemente ingannati, e che Don Juan è l’autore di tutto, il quale è fuggito e sparito. Volete venire subito?
BEATRICE	Volete andare a udire queste nuove, signore?
BENEDETTO	Vivrò nel tuo cuore, morirò nel tuo grembo e sarò sepolto nei tuoi occhi. E per di più, verrò con te da tuo zio. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Claudio, Don Pedro the Prince, and three or four with tapers, all in black
CLAUDIO	Is this the monument of Leonato? A LORD It is, my lord.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO (reading from a scroll)
CLAUDIO	Done to death by slanderous tongues Was the Hero that here lies. Death in guerdon of her wrongs Gives her fame which never dies. So the life that died with shame Lives in death with glorious fame. He hangs the epitaph on the tomb Hang thou there upon the tomb, Praising her when I am dumb. Now music sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
(didascalia)	Song
CLAUDIO	Pardon, goddess of the night, Those that slew thy virgin knight, For the which with songs of woe Round about her tomb they go. Midnight, assist our moan, Help us to sigh and groan, Heavily, heavily. Graves yawn, and yield your dead Till death be utterèd, Heavily, heavily.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO
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 preyed, 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.
CLAUDIO	And Hymen now with luckier issue speed ’s Than this for whom we rendered up this woe.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Claudio, Don Pedro il Principe, e tre o quattro con ceri, tutti in nero
CLAUDIO	È questo il monumento di Leonato? UN SIGNORE Lo è, mio signore.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO (leggendo da un rotolo)
CLAUDIO	Messa a morte da lingue calunniose fu l’Ero che qui giace. La Morte, in guiderdone dei suoi torti, le dà una fama che mai muore. Così la vita che morì con vergogna vive nella morte con gloriosa fama. Appende l’epitaffio alla tomba Resta tu appeso là sulla tomba, lodandola quando io sarò muto. Ora suoni la musica, e cantate il vostro solenne inno.
(didascalia)	Canzone
CLAUDIO	Perdona, dea della notte, coloro che uccisero il tuo cavaliere vergine; per il che, con canti di dolore, intorno alla sua tomba essi vanno. Mezzanotte, assisti il nostro lamento, aiutaci a sospirare e a gemere, gravemente, gravemente. Sbadigliate, tombe, e rendete i vostri morti finché la morte non sia detta, gravemente, gravemente.
(didascalia)	CLAUDIO
CLAUDIO	Ora, alle tue ossa buona notte. Ogni anno compirò questo rito.
DON PEDRO	Buon giorno, padroni, spegnete le vostre torce. I lupi hanno predato, e guardate: il giorno gentile innanzi alle ruote di Febo tutt’intorno screzia il sonnolento oriente di macchie grigie. Grazie a tutti voi, e lasciateci. State bene.
CLAUDIO	Buon giorno, padroni. Ciascuno per la sua via.
DON PEDRO	Su, andiamocene, e vestiamo altre gramaglie, e poi da Leonato ce ne andremo.
CLAUDIO	E Imeneo ora ci assista con esito più fausto di questo, per cui rendemmo questo dolore.
(didascalia)	Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Margaret, Ursula, Friar Francis, and Hero
FRIAR	Did I not tell you she was innocent?
LEONATO	So are the Prince and Claudio who accused her Upon the error that you heard debated. But Margaret was in some fault for this, Although against her will as it appears In the true course of all the question.
ANTONIO	Well, I am glad that all things sorts so well.
BENEDICK	And so am I, being else by faith enforced To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
LEONATO	Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves, And when I send for you come hither masked.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Beatrice, Hero, Margaret, and Ursula
LEONATO	The Prince and Claudio promised by this hour To visit me. You know your office, brother, You must be father to your brother’s daughter, And give her to young Claudio.
ANTONIO	Which I will do with confirmed countenance.
BENEDICK	Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
FRIAR	To do what, signor?
BENEDICK	To bind me or undo me, one of them. Signor Leonato, truth it is, good signor, 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, 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 conjoined In the state of honourable marriage, 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Don Pedro and Claudio with attendants
DON PEDRO	Good morrow to this fair assembly.
LEONATO	Good morrow, Prince. Good morrow, Claudio. We here attend you. Are you yet determined 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.
(didascalia)	Exit Antonio
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?
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 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 leapt your father’s cow And got a calf in that same noble feat Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
(didascalia)	Enter Antonio with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and Ursula, masked
CLAUDIO	For this I owe you. Here comes other reck’nings. Which is the lady I must seize upon?
(didascalia)	ANTONIO
CLAUDIO	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	(to Hero) Give me your hand before this holy friar. I am your husband if you like of me.
HERO	(unmasking) And when I lived I was your other wife; And when you loved, you were my other husband.
CLAUDIO	Another Hero!
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!
LEONATO	She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.
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, 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 Have been deceived. 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 deceived, for they did swear you did.
BENEDICK	They swore that you were almost sick for me.
BEATRICE	They swore that you were wellnigh 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, For here’s a paper written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashioned to Beatrice.
HERO	And here’s another, Writ in my cousin’s hand, stol’n from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick.
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 life, for I was told you were in a consumption.
BENEDICK	(kissing her) Peace, I will stop your mouth.
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 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 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.
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.
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. (To Don Pedro) Prince, thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife. There is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.
(didascalia)	Enter Messenger
MESSENGER	My lord, your brother John is ta’en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina.
BENEDICK	Think not on him till tomorrow, I’ll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers. Dance, and exeunt
HENRY	V
THE	Chorus to Act 5 of Henry V contains an uncharacteristic, direct topical reference: Were now the General of our gracious Empress— As in good time he may—from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit To welcome him! ‘The General’ must be the Earl of Essex, whose ‘Empress’—Queen Elizabeth—had sent him on an Irish campaign on 27 March 1599; he returned, disgraced, on 28 September. Plans for his campaign had been known at least since the previous November; the idea that he might return in triumph would have been meaningless after September 1599, and it seems likely that Shakespeare completed his play during 1599, probably in the spring. It appeared in print, in a short and debased text, in (probably) August 1600, when it was said to have ‘been sundry times played by the Right Honourable the Lord Chamberlain his servants’. Although this text (which omits the Choruses) seems to have been put together from memory by actors playing in an abbreviated adaptation, the Shakespearian text behind it appears to have been in a later state than the generally superior text printed from Shakespeare’s own papers in the 1623 Folio. Our edition draws on the 1600 quarto in the attempt to represent the play as acted by Shakespeare’s company. The principal difference is the reversion to historical authenticity in the substitution at Agincourt of the Duke of Bourbon for the Dauphin. As in the two plays about Henry IV, Shakespeare is indebted to The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth (printed 1598). Other Elizabethan plays about Henry V, now lost, may have influenced him; he certainly used the chronicle histories of Edward Hall (1542) and Holinshed (1577, revised and enlarged in 1587). From the ‘civil broils’ of the earlier history plays, Shakespeare turns to portray a country united in war against France. Each act is prefaced by a Chorus, speaking some of the play’s finest poetry, and giving it an epic quality. Henry V, ‘star of England’, is Shakespeare’s most heroic warrior king, but (like his predecessors) has an introspective side, and is aware of the crime by which his father came to the throne. We are reminded of his ‘wilder days’, and see that the transition from ‘madcap prince’ to the ‘mirror of all Christian kings’ involves loss: although the epilogue to 2 Henry IV had suggested that Sir John would reappear, he is only, though poignantly, an off-stage presence. Yet Shakespeare’s infusion of comic form into historical narrative reaches its natural conclusion in this play. Sir John’s cronies, Pistol, Bardolph, Nim, and Mistress Quickly, reappear to provide a counterpart to the heroic action, and Shakespeare invents comic episodes involving an Englishman (Gower), a Welshman (Fluellen), an Irishman (MacMorris), and a Scot (Jamy). The play also has romance elements, in the almost incredible extent of the English victory over the French and in the disguised Henry’s comradely mingling with his soldiers, as well as in his courtship of the French princess. The play’s romantic and heroic aspects have made it popular especially in times of war and have aroused accusations of jingoism, but the horrors of war are vividly depicted, and the Chorus’s closing speech reminds us that Henry died young, and that his son’s protector ‘lost France and made his England bleed’.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Leonato, Antonio, Benedetto, Beatrice, Margherita, Orsola, frate Francesco e Ero
FRATE	Non vi dissi io che era innocente?
LEONATO	Lo sono anche il Principe e Claudio, che l’accusarono sull’errore che avete udito discutere. Ma Margherita ebbe qualche colpa in questo, benché contro la sua volontà, come appare dal vero corso di tutta la questione.
ANTONIO	Be’, sono lieto che ogni cosa si accomodi così bene.
BENEDETTO	E lo sono anch’io, essendo altrimenti costretto per fede a chiamarne il giovane Claudio a rendere conto.
LEONATO	Be’, figlia, e voi tutte, gentildonne, ritiratevi in una camera per conto vostro, e quando manderò a chiamarvi venite qua mascherate.
(didascalia)	Escono Beatrice, Ero, Margherita e Orsola
LEONATO	Il Principe e Claudio promisero di visitarmi a quest’ora. Conoscete il vostro ufficio, fratello: dovete fare da padre alla figlia di vostro fratello, e darla al giovane Claudio.
ANTONIO	Il che farò con volto sicuro.
BENEDETTO	Frate, devo chiedervi un disturbo, credo.
FRATE	Per fare che cosa, signore?
BENEDETTO	Per legarmi o per disfarmi, una delle due. Signor Leonato, è verità, buon signore, che vostra nipote mi guarda con occhio di favore.
LEONATO	Quell’occhio glielo prestò mia figlia, è verissimo.
BENEDETTO	E io con occhio d’amore la ricambio.
LEONATO	La vista del quale credo l’abbiate avuta da me, da Claudio e dal Principe. Ma qual è la vostra volontà?
BENEDETTO	La vostra risposta, signore, è enigmatica. Ma quanto alla mia volontà, la mia volontà è che la vostra buona volontà possa stare con la nostra oggi, per essere congiunti nello stato dell’onorevole matrimonio; nel quale, buon Frate, desidererò il vostro aiuto.
LEONATO	Il mio cuore è col vostro gradimento.
FRATE	E il mio aiuto. Ecco che vengono il Principe e Claudio.
(didascalia)	Entrano Don Pedro e Claudio con seguito
DON PEDRO	Buon giorno a questa bella assemblea.
LEONATO	Buon giorno, Principe. Buon giorno, Claudio. Qui vi attendiamo. Siete ancora deciso a sposare oggi la figlia di mio fratello?
CLAUDIO	Terrò fermo il mio proposito, fosse pure un’etiope.
LEONATO	Chiamatela fuori, fratello, ecco il Frate pronto.
(didascalia)	Esce Antonio
DON PEDRO	Buon giorno, Benedetto. Perbacco, che cosa c’è che avete una faccia da febbraio, così piena di gelo, di tempesta e di nuvolaglia?
CLAUDIO	Credo che pensi al toro selvaggio. Bah, non temere, uomo, ti orleremo d’oro le corna, e tutta l’Europa si rallegrerà di te come un tempo Europa del lussurioso Giove quando volle fare la nobile bestia in amore.
BENEDETTO	Giove toro, signore, aveva un muggito amabile, e qualche strano toro simile montò la vacca di vostro padre e generò un vitello in quella stessa nobile impresa assai somigliante a voi, ché avete proprio il suo belato.
(didascalia)	Entra Antonio con Ero, Beatrice, Margherita e Orsola, mascherate
CLAUDIO	Per questo vi sono debitore. Ecco venire altri conti da saldare. Qual è la dama di cui devo impadronirmi?
(didascalia)	ANTONIO
CLAUDIO	Questa è lei, e io ve la do.
CLAUDIO	Perbacco, allora è mia. Dolce, fatemi vedere il vostro viso. 55
LEONATO	No, questo non lo farete finché non le prenderete la mano davanti a questo Frate e giurerete di sposarla.
CLAUDIO	(a Ero) Datemi la vostra mano davanti a questo santo frate. Sono vostro marito, se vi piaccio.
ERO	(smascherandosi) E quando vivevo ero la vostra altra moglie; e quando amavate, eravate il mio altro marito.
CLAUDIO	Un’altra Ero!
ERO	Nulla di più certo. Un’Ero morì contaminata, ma io vivo, e com’è certo che vivo, sono vergine.
DON PEDRO	La prima Ero, l’Ero che è morta!
LEONATO	Ella morì, mio signore, ma solo mentre viveva la sua calunnia.
FRATE	Tutto questo stupore io posso spiegarlo quando, dopo che i sacri riti saranno compiuti, vi racconterò ampiamente della morte della bella Ero. Intanto, che la meraviglia appaia familiare, e andiamo subito alla cappella.
BENEDETTO	Piano e adagio, Frate: qual è Beatrice?
BEATRICE	(smascherandosi) Rispondo a quel nome; qual è la vostra volontà?
BENEDETTO	Non mi amate?
BEATRICE	Perbacco no, non più di quanto sia ragionevole.
BENEDETTO	Perbacco, allora vostro zio e il Principe e Claudio sono stati ingannati. Giurarono di sì.
BEATRICE	Non mi amate voi?
BENEDETTO	In fede, no, non più di quanto sia ragionevole.
BEATRICE	Perbacco, allora mia cugina, Margherita e Orsola sono molto ingannate, ché giurarono di sì.
BENEDETTO	Giurarono che eravate quasi malata per me.
BEATRICE	Giurarono che eravate pressoché morto per me.
BENEDETTO	Non è affatto così. Dunque non mi amate?
BEATRICE	No, in verità, se non per amichevole ricompensa.
LEONATO	Su, nipote, sono certo che amate il gentiluomo.
CLAUDIO	E io ci giurerò sopra che lui ama lei, ché ecco qui un foglio scritto di sua mano, un sonetto zoppicante del suo puro cervello, foggiato per Beatrice.
ERO	Ed eccone un altro, scritto di mano di mia cugina, rubato dalla sua tasca, contenente il suo affetto per Benedetto.
BENEDETTO	Un miracolo! Ecco le nostre stesse mani contro i nostri cuori. Su, ti prenderò; ma per questa luce, ti prendo per pietà.
BEATRICE	Non vorrei negarmi a voi; ma per questo buon giorno, cedo a gran persuasione, e in parte per salvarvi la vita, ché mi dissero che eravate tisico.
BENEDETTO	(baciandola) Pace, vi tapperò la bocca.
DON PEDRO	Come stai, Benedetto l’ammogliato?
BENEDETTO	Ti dirò una cosa, Principe: un collegio di rompicapi d’ingegno non può schernirmi fuori dal mio umore. Credi tu che io mi curi d’una satira o d’un epigramma? No: se un uomo dev’essere battuto a colpi di cervello, non porterà addosso nulla di decente. In breve, poiché mi propongo di sposarmi, non terrò per nulla ciò che il mondo possa dire contro; e perciò non schernitemi mai per quel che ho detto contro. Ché l’uomo è cosa volubile, e questa è la mia conclusione. Quanto a te, Claudio, pensavo di averti a bastonate; ma poiché sei per essere mio parente, vivi senza lividi, e ama mia cugina.
CLAUDIO	Avevo ben sperato che tu avessi rifiutato Beatrice, così da poterti bastonare fuori dalla tua vita da scapolo per farti doppio giocatore; il che, senza dubbio, tu sarai, se mia cugina non ti terrà d’occhio strettissimamente.
BENEDETTO	Su, su, siamo amici; facciamo una danza prima di sposarci, sì da alleggerire i nostri cuori e i calcagni delle nostre mogli.
LEONATO	Danzeremo dopo.
BENEDETTO	Prima, sulla mia parola. Perciò suonate, musici. (A Don Pedro) Principe, tu sei triste; prenditi moglie, prenditi moglie. Non c’è bastone più reverendo di uno ferrato di corno.
(didascalia)	Entra un Messaggero
MESSAGGERO	Mio signore, vostro fratello Juan è stato preso in fuga, e ricondotto a Messina con uomini armati.
BENEDETTO	Non pensare a lui fino a domani; ti escogiterò belle punizioni per lui. Attaccate, pifferai. Danza, ed escono