ACT V SCENE I | Before LEONATO'S house. | |
| Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO. | |
ANTONIO | If you go on thus, you will kill yourself: | |
| And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief | |
| Against yourself. | |
LEONATO | I pray thee, cease thy counsel, |
| Which falls into mine ears as profitless | |
| As water in a sieve: give not me counsel; | |
| Nor let no comforter delight mine ear | |
| But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. | |
| Bring me a father that so loved his child, |
| Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine, | |
| And bid him speak of patience; | 10 | |
| Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine | |
| And let it answer every strain for strain, | |
| As thus for thus and such a grief for such, |
| In every lineament, branch, shape, and form: | |
| If such a one will smile and stroke his beard, | |
| Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem!' when he should groan, | |
| Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk | |
| With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, |
| And I of him will gather patience. | |
| But there is no such man: for, brother, men | 20 | |
| Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief | |
| Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, | |
| Their counsel turns to passion, which before |
| Would give preceptial medicine to rage, | |
| Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, | |
| Charm ache with air and agony with words: | |
| No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience | |
| To those that wring under the load of sorrow, |
| But no man's virtue nor sufficiency | |
| To be so moral when he shall endure | 30 | |
| The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: | |
| My griefs cry louder than advertisement. | |
ANTONIO | Therein do men from children nothing differ. |
LEONATO | I pray thee, peace. I will be flesh and blood; | |
| For there was never yet philosopher | |
| That could endure the toothache patiently, | |
| However they have writ the style of gods | |
| And made a push at chance and sufferance. |
ANTONIO | Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself; | |
| Make those that do offend you suffer too. | 40 | |
LEONATO | There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will do so. | |
| My soul doth tell me Hero is belied; | |
| And that shall Claudio know; so shall the prince |
| And all of them that thus dishonour her. | |
ANTONIO | Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily. | |
| Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO. | |
DON PEDRO | Good den, good den. | |
CLAUDIO | Good day to both of you. | |
LEONATO | Hear you. my lords,-- |
DON PEDRO | We have some haste, Leonato. | |
LEONATO | Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord: | |
| Are you so hasty now? well, all is one. | |
DON PEDRO | Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. | |
ANTONIO | If he could right himself with quarreling, | 51 |
| Some of us would lie low. | |
CLAUDIO | Who wrongs him? | |
LEONATO | Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou:-- | |
| Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword; | |
| I fear thee not. |
CLAUDIO | Marry, beshrew my hand, | |
| If it should give your age such cause of fear: | |
| In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword. | |
LEONATO | Tush, tush, man; never fleer and jest at me: | |
| I speak not like a dotard nor a fool, |
| As under privilege of age to brag | 60 | |
| What I have done being young, or what would do | |
| Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head, | |
| Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me | |
| That I am forced to lay my reverence by |
| And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days, | |
| Do challenge thee to trial of a man. | |
| I say thou hast belied mine innocent child; | |
| Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart, | |
| And she lies buried with her ancestors; |
| O, in a tomb where never scandal slept, | 70 | |
| Save this of hers, framed by thy villany! | |
CLAUDIO | My villany? | |
LEONATO | Thine, Claudio; thine, I say. | |
DON PEDRO | You say not right, old man. |
LEONATO | My lord, my lord, | |
| I'll prove it on his body, if he dare, | |
| Despite his nice fence and his active practise, | |
| His May of youth and bloom of lustihood. | |
CLAUDIO | Away! I will not have to do with you. |
LEONATO | Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill'd my child: | |
| If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man. | 80 | |
ANTONIO | He shall kill two of us, and men indeed: | |
| But that's no matter; let him kill one first; | |
| Win me and wear me; let him answer me. |
| Come, follow me, boy; come, sir boy, come, follow me: | |
| Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence; | |
| Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will. | |
LEONATO | Brother,-- | |
ANTONIO | Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece; |
| And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains, | |
| That dare as well answer a man indeed | |
| As I dare take a serpent by the tongue-- | 90 | |
| Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops! | |
LEONATO | Brother Antony,-- |
ANTONIO | Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea, | |
| And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,-- | |
| Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boys, | |
| That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander, | |
| Go anticly, show outward hideousness, |
| And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, | |
| How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst; | |
| And this is all. | 99 | |
LEONATO | But, brother Antony,-- | |
ANTONIO | Come, 'tis no matter: |
| Do not you meddle; let me deal in this. | |
DON PEDRO | Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience. | |
| My heart is sorry for your daughter's death: | |
| But, on my honour, she was charged with nothing | |
| But what was true and very full of proof. |
LEONATO | My lord, my lord,-- | |
DON PEDRO | I will not hear you. | |
LEONATO | No? Come, brother; away! I will be heard. | |
ANTONIO | And shall, or some of us will smart for it. | 109 | |
| Exeunt LEONATO and ANTONIO. | |
DON PEDRO | See, see; here comes the man we went to seek. |
| Enter BENEDICK. | |
CLAUDIO | Now, signior, what news? | |
BENEDICK | Good day, my lord. | |
DON PEDRO | Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part | |
| almost a fray. | |
CLAUDIO | We had like to have had our two noses snapped off |
| with two old men without teeth. | |
DON PEDRO | Leonato and his brother. What thinkest thou? Had | |
| we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them. | |
BENEDICK | In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came | |
| to seek you both. | 121 |
CLAUDIO | We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are | |
| high-proof melancholy and would fain have it beaten | |
| away. Wilt thou use thy wit? | |
BENEDICK | It is in my scabbard: shall I draw it? | |
DON PEDRO | Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? |
CLAUDIO | Never any did so, though very many have been beside | |
| their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the | |
| minstrels; draw, to pleasure us. | |
DON PEDRO | As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou | |
| sick, or angry? | 131 |
CLAUDIO | What, courage, man! What though care killed a cat, | |
| thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care. | |
BENEDICK | Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, and you | |
| charge it against me. I pray you choose another subject. | |
CLAUDIO | Nay, then, give him another staff: this last was |
| broke cross. | |
DON PEDRO | By this light, he changes more and more: I think | |
| he be angry indeed. | |
CLAUDIO | If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle. | 140 | |
BENEDICK | Shall I speak a word in your ear? |
CLAUDIO | God bless me from a challenge! | |
BENEDICK | Aside to CLAUDIO. | |
| I will make it good how you dare, with what you | |
| dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will | |
| protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet | |
| lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me |
| hear from you. | |
CLAUDIO | Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer. | |
DON PEDRO | What, a feast, a feast? | |
CLAUDIO | I' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's | |
| head and a capon; the which if I do not carve most |
| curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not find | |
| a woodcock too? | 153 | |
BENEDICK | Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily. | |
DON PEDRO | I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the | |
| other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit: 'True,' |
| said she, 'a fine little one.' 'No,' said I, 'a | |
| great wit:' 'Right,' says she, 'a great gross one.' | |
| 'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit:' 'Just,' said she, 'it | |
| hurts nobody.' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman | |
| is wise:' 'Certain,' said she, 'a wise gentleman.' |
| 'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the tongues:' 'That I | |
| believe,' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me on | |
| Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning; | |
| there's a double tongue; there's two tongues.' Thus | |
| did she, an hour together, transshape thy particular |
| virtues: yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou | |
| wast the properest man in Italy. | 167 | |
CLAUDIO | For the which she wept heartily and said she cared | |
| not. | |
DON PEDRO | Yea, that she did: but yet, for all that, an if she |
| did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly: | |
| the old man's daughter told us all. | |
CLAUDIO | All, all; and, moreover, God saw him when he was | |
| hid in the garden. | |
DON PEDRO | But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on |
| the sensible Benedick's head? | |
CLAUDIO | Yea, and text underneath, 'Here dwells Benedick the | |
| married man'? | 178 | |
BENEDICK | Fare you well, boy: you know my mind. I will leave | |
| you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests |
| as braggarts do their blades, which God be thanked, | |
| hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank | |
| you: I must discontinue your company: your brother | |
| the bastard is fled from Messina: you have among | |
| you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord |
| Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet: and, till | |
| then, peace be with him. | |
| Exit | |
DON PEDRO | He is in earnest. | |
CLAUDIO | In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for | |
| the love of Beatrice. | 190 |
DON PEDRO | And hath challenged thee. | |
CLAUDIO | Most sincerely. | |
DON PEDRO | What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his | |
| doublet and hose and leaves off his wit! | |
CLAUDIO | He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a |
| doctor to such a man. | |
DON PEDRO | But, soft you, let me be: pluck up, my heart, and | |
| be sad. Did he not say, my brother was fled? | |
| Enter DOGBERRY, VERGES, and the Watch, with CONRADE and BORACHIO. | |
DOGBERRY | Come you, sir: if justice cannot tame you, she | |
| shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay, |
| an you be a cursing hypocrite, once you must be looked to. | |
DON PEDRO | How now? two of my brother's men bound! Borachio | |
| one! | 203 | |
CLAUDIO | Hearken after their offence, my lord. | |
DON PEDRO | Officers, what offence have these men done? |
DOGBERRY | Marry, sir, they have committed false report; | |
| moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, | |
| they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have | |
| belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust | |
| things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves. | 210 |
DON PEDRO | First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I | |
| ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why | |
| they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay | |
| to their charge. | |
CLAUDIO | Rightly reasoned, and in his own division: and, by |
| my troth, there's one meaning well suited. | |
DON PEDRO | Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus | |
| bound to your answer? this learned constable is | |
| too cunning to be understood: what's your offence? | |
BORACHIO | Sweet prince, let me go no farther to mine answer: |
| do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have | |
| deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms | |
| could not discover, these shallow fools have brought | |
| to light: who in the night overheard me confessing | |
| to this man how Don John your brother incensed me |
| to slander the Lady Hero, how you were brought into | |
| the orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero's | |
| garments, how you disgraced her, when you should | |
| marry her: my villany they have upon record; which | |
| I had rather seal with my death than repeat over |
| to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my | |
| master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire | |
| nothing but the reward of a villain. | 232 | |
DON PEDRO | Runs not this speech like iron through your blood? | |
CLAUDIO | I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it. |
DON PEDRO | But did my brother set thee on to this? | |
BORACHIO | Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it. | |
DON PEDRO | He is composed and framed of treachery: | |
| And fled he is upon this villany. | |
CLAUDIO | Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear |
| In the rare semblance that I loved it first. | 241 | |
DOGBERRY | Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time our | |
| sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: | |
| and, masters, do not forget to specify, when time | |
| and place shall serve, that I am an ass. |
VERGES | Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the | |
| Sexton too. | |
| Re-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the Sexton. | |
LEONATO | Which is the villain? let me see his eyes, | |
| That, when I note another man like him, | |
| I may avoid him: which of these is he? | 250 |
BORACHIO | If you would know your wronger, look on me. | |
LEONATO | Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd | |
| Mine innocent child? | |
BORACHIO | Yea, even I alone. | |
LEONATO | No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself: |
| Here stand a pair of honourable men; | |
| A third is fled, that had a hand in it. | |
| I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death: | |
| Record it with your high and worthy deeds: | |
| 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. |
CLAUDIO | I know not how to pray your patience; | 260 | |
| Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself; | |
| Impose me to what penance your invention | |
| Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn'd I not | |
| But in mistaking. |
DON PEDRO | By my soul, nor I: | |
| And yet, to satisfy this good old man, | |
| I would bend under any heavy weight | |
| That he'll enjoin me to. | |
LEONATO | I cannot bid you bid my daughter live; |
| That were impossible: but, I pray you both, | |
| Possess the people in Messina here | 270 | |
| How innocent she died; and if your love | |
| Can labour ought in sad invention, | |
| Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb |
| And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night: | |
| To-morrow morning come you to my house, | |
| And since you could not be my son-in-law, | |
| Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter, | |
| Almost the copy of my child that's dead, |
| And she alone is heir to both of us: | |
| Give her the right you should have given her cousin, | |
| And so dies my revenge. | |
CLAUDIO | O noble sir, | 281 | |
| Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me! |
| I do embrace your offer; and dispose | |
| For henceforth of poor Claudio. | |
LEONATO | To-morrow then I will expect your coming; | |
| To-night I take my leave. This naughty man | |
| Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, |
| Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong, | |
| Hired to it by your brother. | |
BORACHIO | No, by my soul, she was not, | |
| Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, | 290 | |
| But always hath been just and virtuous |
| In any thing that I do know by her. | |
DOGBERRY | Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and | |
| black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call | |
| me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his | |
| punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of |
| one Deformed: they say be wears a key in his ear and | |
| a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's | |
| name, the which he hath used so long and never paid | |
| that now men grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing | |
| for God's sake: pray you, examine him upon that point. | 301 |
LEONATO | I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. | |
DOGBERRY | Your worship speaks like a most thankful and | |
| reverend youth; and I praise God for you. | |
LEONATO | There's for thy pains. | |
DOGBERRY | God save the foundation! |
LEONATO | Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee. | |
DOGBERRY | I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which I | |
| beseech your worship to correct yourself, for the | |
| example of others. God keep your worship! I wish | |
| your worship well; God restore you to health! I |
| humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry | |
| meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour. | 314 | |
| Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES. | |
LEONATO | Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. | |
ANTONIO | Farewell, my lords: we look for you to-morrow. | |
DON PEDRO | We will not fail. |
CLAUDIO | To-night I'll mourn with Hero. | |
LEONATO | To the Watch | |
| talk with Margaret, | |
| How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. | |
| Exeunt, severally. | |