Enter, [masked,] Don Pedro, Claudio, Bened.i.c.k, and Balthasar.
[With them enter Antonio, also masked. After them enter]
Don John [and Borachio (without masks), who stand aside and look on during the dance].
Pedro. 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.
Pedro. With me in your company?
Hero. I may say so when I please.
Pedro. And when please you to say so?
Hero. When I like your favour, for G.o.d defend the lute should be like the case!
Pedro. My visor is Philemon"s roof; within the house is Jove.
Hero. Why then, your visor should be thatch"d.
Pedro. Speak low if you speak love. [Takes her aside.]
Balth. Well, I would you did like me.
Marg. So would not I for your own sake, for I have many ill qualities.
Balth. Which is one?
Marg. I say my prayers aloud.
Balth. I love you the better. The hearers may cry Amen.
Marg. G.o.d match me with a good dancer!
Balth. Amen.
Marg. And G.o.d keep him out of my sight when the dance is done!
Answer, clerk.
Balth. No more words. The clerk is answered.
[Takes her aside.]
Urs. I know you well enough. You are Signior Antonio.
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head.
Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
Urs. 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!
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. 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 step aside.]
Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so?
Bene. No, you shall pardon me.
Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?
Bene. Not now.
Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the "Hundred Merry Tales." Well, this was Signior Bened.i.c.k that said so.
Bene. What"s he?
Beat. I am sure you know him well enough.
Bene. Not I, believe me.
Beat. Did he never make you laugh?
Bene. I pray you, what is he?
Beat. 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 villany; 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.
Bene. When I know the gentleman, I"ll tell him what you say.
Beat. Do, do. He"ll but break a comparison or two on me; which peradventure, not marked or not laugh"d at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there"s a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night.
[Music.]
We must follow the leaders.
Bene. In every good thing.
Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning.
Dance. Exeunt (all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio].
John. 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.
Bora. And that is Claudio. I know him by his bearing.
John. Are you not Signior Bened.i.c.k?
Claud. You know me well. I am he.
John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love. He is enamour"d 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.
Claud. How know you he loves her?
John. I heard him swear his affection.
Bora. So did I too, and he swore he would marry her tonight.
John. Come, let us to the banquet.
Exeunt. Manet Claudio.
Claud. Thus answer I in name of Bened.i.c.k But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
[Unmasks.]
"Tis certain so. The Prince wooes 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!
Enter Bened.i.c.k [unmasked].
Bene. Count Claudio?
Claud. Yea, the same.
Bene. Come, will you go with me?
Claud. Whither?
Bene. 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.
Claud. I wish him joy of her.
Bene. Why, that"s spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell bullocks. But did you think the Prince would have served you thus?
Claud. I pray you leave me.
Bene. Ho! now you strike like the blind man! "Twas the boy that stole your meat, and you"ll beat the post.
Claud. If it will not be, I"ll leave you. Exit.
Bene. 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 t.i.tle 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.
Pedro. Now, signior, where"s the Count? Did you see him?
Bene. 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 off"red 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 whipt.
Pedro. To be whipt? What"s his fault?
Bene. The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being overjoyed with finding a bird"s nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it.
Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer.
Bene. 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 stol"n his bird"s nest.
Pedro. I will but teach them to sing and restore them to the owner.
Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say honestly.
Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The gentleman that danc"d with her told her she is much wrong"d by you.
Bene. O, she misus"d 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 a.s.sume 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 transgress"d. She would have made Hercules have turn"d 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 G.o.d some scholar would conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in h.e.l.l 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, Leonato, Hero.
Pedro. Look, here she comes.
Bene. 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 toothpicker 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 emba.s.sage to the Pygmies--rather than hold three words"
conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me?