Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

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 honeft drover; fo they fell 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 fedges. But that my lady Beatrice fhould 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 fo reputed. It is the base, though bitter, difpofition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her person, and so gives me out: well, I'll be reveng'd as I may.

SCENE IV.

Enter Don Pedro.

Pedro. Now, fignior, where's the count? did you fee him? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have play'd the part of lady fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren; I told him (and, I think, told him true) that your grace had got the will of this young lady; and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forfaken, or to bind him a rod, as being worthy to be whip'd.

Pedro. To be whip'd! what's his fault?

Bene. The flat tranfgreffion of a school-boy, who, being overjoy'd with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he fteals it.

Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust, a tranfgreffion? the tranfgreffion is in the ftealer.

Bene

Bene. Yet it had not been amifs 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 ftol'n his bird's neft.

Pedro. I will but teach them to fing, and restore them to the

owner.

Bene. If their finging anfwer your faying, by my faith, you fay honestly.

Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman that danc'd with her told her, fhe is much wrong'd by you.

Bene. O, fhe mifus'd me past the endurance of a block; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answer'd her; my very vifor began to affume life, and fcold with her; fhe told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling jeft upon jeft, with fuch impetuous conveyance upon me, that I ftood like a man at a mark, with a whole army fhooting at me: fhe speaks poniards, and every word ftabs; if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north-ftar; I would not marry her, though the were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'd; fhe 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 Atè in good apparel. I would to god, fome scholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here a man may live as quiet in hell as in a fanctuary; and people fin upon purpose, because they would go thither; fo, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation, follow her.

SCENE V.

Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato, and Hero.

Pedro. Look, here fhe comes.

Bene. Will your grace command me any fervice to the world's end? I will go on the fligheft errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now

from

from the furtheft inch of Afia; bring you the length of Prefter 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? Pedro. None, but to defire your good company.

Bene. O god, fir, here's a dish I love not. I cannot endure this lady's tongue. [Exit. Pedro. Come, lady, come, you have lost the heart of fignior Benedick.

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

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

down.

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, left I should prove the mother of fools: I have brought count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.

Pedro. Why, how now, count, wherefore are you fad?
Claud. Not fad, my lord.

Pedro. How then? fick ?

Claud. Neither, my lord.

Beat. The count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of a jealous complexion.

Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe. 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!

Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes; his grace hath made the match, and all grace fay, amen, to it!

Beat. Speak, count, 'tis your cue.

Claud. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy; I were but little happy, if I could fay how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am

VOL. I.

M m m

yours;

yours; I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, coufin, or, if you cannot, ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

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

Beat. Yea, my lord, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy fide of care: my coufin tells him in his ear that he is in

her heart.

Leon. And fo fhe doth, coufin.

Beat. Good lord, for alliance! thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd, I may fit in a corner, and cry, heigh ho! for a husband.

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

Pedro. Will you have me, lady?

Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for workingdays; your grace is too coftly to wear every day: but, I beseech your grace, pardon me, I was born to speak all mirth, and no

matter.

Pedro. Your filence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, fure, my lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a star danc'd, and under that I was born. Cousins, god give you joy!

Leon. Neice, will you look to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle: by your grace's pardon.

[blocks in formation]

[Exit Beatrice.

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

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my

lord;

she is never fad but when she fleeps, and not ever fad then; for I have heard my daughter fay, fhe hath often dream'd of unhappiness, and wak'd herself with laughing.

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

Leon.

Leon. O, by no means, fhe mocks all her wooers out of fuit. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leon. O lord, my lord, if they were but a week marry'd they would talk themfelves mad.

Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church? Claud. To-morrow, my lord; time goes on crutches, 'till love have all his rites.

Leon. Not 'till monday, my dear fon, which is hence a just seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

fo

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

Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights watchings.

Claud. And I, my lord.

Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

Hero. I will do any modeft office, my lord, to help my coufin to a good husband.

Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know: thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour your coufin, 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 fhall be ours, for we are the only love-gods; go in with me, and I will tell you my drift.

[Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]
« PredošláPokračovať »