Henry the Sixt




Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
are presented herein:

  Barnardo. Who's there?
  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
your selfe

   Bar. Long liue the King

***

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,

Part of Henry the Sixt.

Michael S. Hart

Executive Director


***


Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
abbreviations as I have come across them.  Everything within
brackets [] is what I have added.  So if you don't like that
you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
differences between various copies of the first folio.  So there may
be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
this and other first folio editions.  This is due to the printer's
habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
continuing the printing run.  The proof run wasn't thrown away but
incorporated into the printed copies.  This is just the way it is.
The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
First Folio editions' best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel
free to email me those errors.  I wish to make this the best
etext possible.  My email address for right now are haradda@aol.com
and davidr@inconnect.com.  I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed

Much adoe about Nothing

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his
daughter,
and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.

  Leonato. I learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arragon,
comes this night to Messina

   Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not
three Leagues off when I left him

   Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this
action?
  Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name

   Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer
brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter
hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called
Claudio

   Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred
by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the
promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the
feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation,
then you must expect of me to tell you how

   Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very
much glad of it

   Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there
appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could
not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse

   Leo. Did he breake out into teares?
  Mess. In great measure

   Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces
truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better
is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping?
  Bea. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from
the warres, or no?
  Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was
none such in the armie of any sort

   Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece?
  Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua
  Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was

   Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd
Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the
Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at
the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and
eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for
indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing

   Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too
much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not

   Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars

   Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to
ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an
excellent stomacke

   Mess. And a good souldier too Lady

   Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he
to a Lord?
  Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with
all honourable vertues

   Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man:
but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall

   Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is
a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her:
they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between
them

   Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict,
foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is
the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue
wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it
for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it
is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable
creature. Who is his companion now? He hath
euery month a new sworne brother

   Mess. Is't possible?
  Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as
the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block

   Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your
bookes

   Bea. No, and he were, I would burne 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
diuell?
  Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble
Claudio

   Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease:
he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker
runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee
haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand
pound ere he be cur'd

   Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady

   Bea. Do good friend

   Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece

   Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary

   Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, and Iohn the
bastard.

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

   Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes
of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides,
and happinesse takes his leaue

   Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I
thinke this is your daughter

   Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so

   Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her?
  Leonato. Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a
childe

   Pedro. You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by
this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers
her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable
father

   Ben. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not
haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him
as she is

   Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior
Benedicke, no body markes you

   Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet
liuing?
  Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee
hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke?
Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in
her presence

   Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine
I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and
I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard
heart, for truely I loue none

   Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else
haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke
God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I
had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man
sweare he loues me

   Bene. God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde,
so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate
scratcht face

   Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere
such a face as yours were

   Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher

   Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of
your

   Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue,
and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods
name, I haue done

   Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know
you of old

   Pedro. This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Claudio,
and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath
inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least
a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine
vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but
praies from his heart

   Leon. If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be forsworne,
let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled
to the Prince your brother: I owe you all
duetie

   Iohn. I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I
thanke you

   Leon. Please it your grace leade on?
  Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

  Clau. Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of signior
Leonato?
  Bene. I noted her not, but I lookt on her

   Claud. Is she not a modest yong Ladie?
  Bene. Doe you question me as an honest man should
doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue
me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant
to their sexe?
  Clau. No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement

   Bene. Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie
praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a
great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her,
that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome,
and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her

   Clau. Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me
truely how thou lik'st her

   Bene. Would you buie her, that you enquier after
her?
  Clau. Can the world buie such a iewell?
  Ben. Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this
with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to
tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare
Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man take you to
goe in the song?
  Clau. In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer
I lookt on

   Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no
such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest
with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first
of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue
no intent to turne husband, haue you?
  Clau. I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had
sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife

   Bene. Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one
man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I neuer
see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith,
and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare
the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro
is returned to seeke you.

Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.

  Pedr. What secret hath held you here, that you followed
not to Leonatoes?
  Bened. I would your Grace would constraine mee to
tell

   Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegeance

   Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a
dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance,
marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in
loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke
how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short
daughter

   Clau. If this were so, so were it vttred

   Bened. Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas
not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so

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

   Pedro. Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie
well worthie

   Clau. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord

   Pedr. By my troth I speake my thought

   Clau. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine

   Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I
speake mine

   Clau. That I loue her, I feele

   Pedr. That she is worthie, I know

   Bened. That I neither feele how shee should be loued,
nor know how shee should be worthie, is the
opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at
the stake

   Pedr. Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the despight
of Beautie

   Clau. And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the
force of his will
  Ben. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that
she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble
thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all
women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the
wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to
trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the
finer) I will liue a Batchellor

   Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue

   Bene. With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger,
my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more
blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking,
picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penne, and
hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe
of blinde Cupid

   Pedro. Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith,
thou wilt proue a notable argument

   Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot
at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder,
and cal'd Adam

   Pedro. Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage
Bull doth beare the yoake

   Bene. The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible
Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set
them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and
in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse
to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may
see Benedicke the married man

   Clau. If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee
horne mad

   Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly

   Bene. I looke for an earthquake too then

   Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the houres, in
the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes,
commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile
him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation

   Bene. I haue almost matter enough in me for such an
Embassage, and so I commit you

   Clau. To the tuition of God. From my house, if I
had it

   Pedro. The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick

   Bene. Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the
guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout
old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I
leaue you.

Enter.

  Clau. My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee
good

   Pedro. My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne
Any hard Lesson that may do thee good

   Clau. Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord?
  Pedro. No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire.
Dost thou affect her Claudio?
  Clau. O my Lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand,
Than to driue liking to the name of loue:
But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts
Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes,
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres

   Pedro. Thou wilt be like a louer presently,
And tire the hearer with a booke of words:
If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I will breake with her: wast not to this end,
That thou beganst to twist so fine a story?
  Clau. How sweetly doe you minister to loue,
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise

   Ped. What need y bridge much broder then the flood?
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:
Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest,
And I will fit thee with the remedie,
I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine,
In practise let vs put it presently.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

  Leo. How now brother, where is my cosen your son:
hath he prouided this musicke?
  Old. He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell
you newes that you yet dreamt not of

   Lo. Are they good?
  Old. As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good
couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count
Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard,
were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered
to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter,
and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance,
and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the
present time by the top, and instantly breake with you
of it

   Leo. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
  Old. A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and
question him your selfe

   Leo. No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it appeare
it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall,
that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture
this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins,
you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie
friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill,
good cosin haue a care this busie time.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.

  Con. What the good yeere my Lord, why are you
thus out of measure sad?
  Ioh. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds,
therefore the sadnesse is without limit

   Con. You should heare reason

   Iohn. And when I haue heard it, what blessing bringeth
it?
  Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance

   Ioh. I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art,
borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine,
to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I
am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no
mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no
mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no
mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man
in his humor

   Con. Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this,
till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of
late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane
you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you
should take root, but by the faire weather that you make
your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your
owne haruest

   Iohn. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose
in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of
all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this
(though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man)
it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I
am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog,
therefore I haue 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 meane time, let me be that I am, and
seeke not to alter me

   Con. Can you make no vse of your discontent?
  Iohn. I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely.
Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

  Bor. I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince
your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can
giue you intelligence of an intended marriage

   Iohn. Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe
on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to
vnquietnesse?
  Bor. Mary it is your brothers right hand

   Iohn. Who, the most exquisite Claudio?
  Bor. Euen he

   Iohn. A proper squier, and who, and who, which way
lookes he?
  Bor. Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leonato

   Iohn. A very forward March-chicke, how came you
to this:
  Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking
a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio,
hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras,
and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should
wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue
her to Count Claudio

   Iohn. Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food
to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie
of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse
my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist
mee?
  Conr. To the death my Lord

   Iohn. Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the
greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my
minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done?
  Bor. Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.


Actus Secundus.

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and
Beatrice his
neece, and a kinsman.

  Leonato. Was not Count Iohn here at supper?
  Brother. I saw him not

   Beatrice. How tartly that Gentleman lookes, I neuer
can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an howre after

   Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition

   Beatrice. Hee were an excellent man that were made
iust in the mid-way betweene him and Benedicke, the one
is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too
like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling

   Leon. Then halfe signior Benedicks tongue in Count
Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Signior
Benedicks face

   Beat. With a good legge, and a good foot vnckle, and
money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any
woman in the world, if he could get her good will

   Leon. By my troth Neece, thou wilt neuer get thee a
husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue

   Brother. Infaith shee's too curst

   Beat. Too curst is more then curst, I shall lessen Gods
sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow
short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none

   Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no
hornes

   Beat. Iust, if he send me no husband, for the which
blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and
euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a
beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen

   Leonato. You may light vpon a husband that hath no
beard

   Beatrice. What should I doe with him? dresse him in
my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he
that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath
no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a
youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am
not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in earnest
of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell

   Leon. Well then, goe you into hell

   Beat. No, but to the gate, and there will the Deuill
meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head,
and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen,
heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes,
and away to S[aint]. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee
where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as
the day is long

   Brother. Well neece, I trust you will be rul'd by your
father

   Beatrice. Yes faith, it is my cosens dutie to make curtsie,
and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let
him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie,
and say, father, as it please me

   Leonato. Well neece, I hope to see you one day fitted
with a husband

   Beatrice. Not till God make men of some other mettall
then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouermastred
with a peece of valiant dust: to make account of
her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none:
Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne
to match in my kinred

   Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the
Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere

   Beatrice. The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you
be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important,
tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance
out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, &
repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace:
the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge
(and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest,
(as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes
repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace
faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue

   Leonato. Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly

   Beatrice. I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church
by daylight

   Leon. The reuellers are entring brother, make good
roome.
Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or
dumbe Iohn,
Maskers with a drum.

  Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend?
  Hero. So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say
nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I
walke 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 fauour, for God defend the
Lute should be like the case

   Pedro. My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house
is Loue

   Hero. Why then your visor should be thatcht

   Pedro. Speake low if you speake Loue

   Bene. Well, I would you did like me

   Mar. So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue
manie ill qualities

   Bene. Which is one?
  Mar. I say my prayers alowd

   Ben. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen

   Mar. God match me with a good dauncer

   Balt. Amen

   Mar. And God keepe him out of my sight when the
daunce is done: answer Clarke

   Balt. No more words, the Clarke is answered

   Vrsula. I know you well enough, you are Signior Anthonio

   Anth. At a word, I am not

   Vrsula. I know you by the wagling of your head

   Anth. To tell you true, I counterfet him

   Vrsu. You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse
you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down,
you are he, you are he

   Anth. At a word I am not

   Vrsula. Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know
you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe
to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's
an end

   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?
  Bened. Not now

   Beat. That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good
wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior
Benedicke that said so

   Bene. What's he?
  Beat. I am sure you know him well enough

   Bene. Not I, beleeue me

   Beat. Did he neuer make you laugh?
  Bene. I pray you what is he?
  Beat. Why he is the Princes ieaster, a very dull foole,
onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none
but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is
not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth
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
boorded me

   Bene. When I know the Gentleman, Ile tell him what
you say

   Beat. Do, do, hee'l but breake a comparison or two
on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd
at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Partridge
wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that
night. We must follow the Leaders

   Ben. In euery good thing

   Bea. Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them
at the next turning.

Exeunt.

Musicke for the dance.

  Iohn. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath
withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the
Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines

   Borachio. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bearing

   Iohn. Are not you signior Benedicke?
  Clau. You know me well, I am hee

   Iohn. Signior, you are verie neere my Brother in his
loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him
from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the
part of an honest man in it

   Claudio. How know you he loues her?
  Iohn. I heard him sweare his affection

   Bor. So did I too, and he swore he would marrie her
to night

   Iohn. Come, let vs to the banquet.

Ex. manet Clau.

  Clau. Thus answere I in name of Benedicke,
But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio:
'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe:
Friendship is constant in all other things,
Saue in the Office and affaires of loue:
Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues.
Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe,
And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch,
Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood:
This is an accident of hourely proofe,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero.
Enter Benedicke.

  Ben. Count Claudio

   Clau. Yea, the same

   Ben. Come, will you goe with me?
  Clau. Whither?
  Ben. Euen to the next Willow, about your own businesse,
Count. What fashion will you weare the Garland
off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or
vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must
weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero

   Clau . I wish him ioy of her

   Ben. Why that's spoken like an honest Drouier, so
they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold
haue serued you thus?
  Clau. I pray you leaue me

   Ben. Ho now you strike like the blindman, 'twas the
boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post

   Clau. If it will not be, Ile leaue you.
Enter.

  Ben. Alas poore hurt fowle, now will he creepe into
sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, &
not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe
vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am
apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the
base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's
the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile
be reuenged as I may.
Enter the Prince.

  Pedro. Now Signior, where's the Count, did you
see him?
  Bene. Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady
Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a
Warren, I told him, and I thinke, 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 forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as being
worthy to be whipt

   Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault?
  Bene. The flat transgression of a Schoole-boy, who
being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his
companion, and he steales it

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

   Ben. Yet it had not been amisse the rod had beene
made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue
worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on
you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds 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 quarrell to you, the
Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much
wrong'd by you

   Bene. O she misusde me past the indurance of a block:
an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue answered
her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold
with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my
selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller
then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such impossible
conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a
marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes
poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were
as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere
her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not
marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam
had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made
  Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to
make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde
her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God
some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she
is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary,
and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe
thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation
followes her.
Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

  Pedro. Looke heere she comes

   Bene. Will your Grace command mee any seruice to
the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now
to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I
will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch
of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch
you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any embassage
to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words
conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment
for me?
  Pedro. None, but to desire your good company

   Bene. O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot indure
this Lady tongue.
Enter.

  Pedr. Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of
Signior Benedicke

   Beatr. Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I
gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry
once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore
your Grace may well say I haue lost it

   Pedro. You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put
him downe

   Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest
I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought
Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke

   Pedro. Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad?
  Claud. Not sad my Lord

   Pedro. How then? sicke?
  Claud. Neither, my Lord

   Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry,
nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and something
of a iealous complexion

   Pedro. Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true.
though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false:
heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero
is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will
obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue
thee ioy

   Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her
my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace
say, Amen to it

   Beatr. Speake Count, tis your Qu

   Claud. Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were
but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you
are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and
doat vpon the exchange

   Beat. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth
with a kisse, and let not him speake neither

   Pedro. In faith Lady you haue a merry heart

   Beatr. Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes
on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare
that he is in my heart

   Clau. And so she doth coosin

   Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one
to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a corner
and cry, heigh ho for a husband

   Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one

   Beat. I would rather haue one of your fathers getting:
hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father
got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them

   Prince. Will you haue me? Lady

   Beat. No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for
working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie
day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne
to speake all mirth, and no matter

   Prince. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry,
best becomes you, for out of question, you were born
in a merry howre

   Beatr. No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then
there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: cosins
God giue you ioy

   Leonato. Neece, will you looke to those things I told
you of?
  Beat. I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

  Prince. By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady

   Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her
my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not
euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath
often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with
laughing

   Pedro. Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband

   Leonato. O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers
out of suite

   Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedick

   Leonato. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke
married, they would talke themselues madde

   Prince. Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to
Church?
  Clau. To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches,
till Loue haue all his rites

   Leonato. Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is
hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue
all things answer minde

   Prince. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing,
but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe
dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules
labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the
Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th' one with
th' other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not
but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance
as I shall giue you direction

   Leonato. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee
ten nights watchings

   Claud. And I my Lord

   Prin. And you to gentle Hero?
  Hero. I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe
my cosin to a good husband

   Prin. And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband
that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble
straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will
teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall
in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will
so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke
wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with
Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Archer,
his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely louegods,
goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift.
Enter.

Enter Iohn and Borachio.

  Ioh. It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daughter
of Leonato

   Bora. Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it

   Iohn. Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be
medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and
whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly
with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage?
  Bor. Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no
dishonesty shall appeare in me

   Iohn. Shew me breefely how

   Bor. I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how
much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman
to Hero

   Iohn. I remember

   Bor. I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night,
appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window

   Iohn. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?
  Bor. The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe
you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that
hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned
Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a
contaminated stale, such a one as Hero

   Iohn. What proofe shall I make of that?
  Bor. Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe
Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any
other issue?
  Iohn. Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any
thing

   Bor. Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on
Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you
know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both
to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers
honor who hath made this match) and his friends reputation,
who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance
of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarcely
beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which
shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her
chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare
Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this
the very night before the intended wedding, for in the
meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall
be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of
Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance,
and all the preparation ouerthrowne

   Iohn. Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will
put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and
thy fee is a thousand ducates

   Bor. Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cunning
shall not shame me

   Iohn. I will presentlie goe learne their day of marriage.
Enter.

Enter Benedicke alone.

  Bene. Boy

   Boy. Signior

   Bene. In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it
hither to me in the orchard

   Boy. I am heere already sir.
Enter.

  Bene. I know that, but I would haue thee hence, and
heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing
how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his
behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such
shallow follies in others, become the argument of his
owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio.
I haue known when there was no musicke with him but
the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the
taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue
walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will
he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dublet:
he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like
an honest man & a souldier) and now is he turn'd orthography,
his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so
many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with
these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee
sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile
take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he
shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet
I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertuous,
yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman,
one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall
be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile neuer
cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde,
or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of
good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal
be of what colour it please God, hah! the Prince and
Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor.
Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Iacke Wilson.

  Prin. Come, shall we heare this musicke?
  Claud. Yea my good Lord: how still the euening is.
As husht on purpose to grace harmonie

   Prin. See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe?
  Clau. O very well my Lord: the musicke ended,
Wee'll fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth

   Prince. Come Balthasar, wee'll heare that song again

   Balth. O good my Lord, taxe not so bad a voyce,
To slander musicke any more then once

   Prin. It is the witnesse still of excellency,
To slander Musicke any more then once

   Prince. It is the witnesse still of excellencie,
To put a strange face on his owne perfection,
I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more

   Balth. Because you talke of wooing, I will sing,
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit,
To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes,
Yet will he sweare he loues

   Prince. Nay pray thee come,
Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Doe it in notes

   Balth. Note this before my notes,
Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting

   Prince. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks,
Note notes forsooth, and nothing

   Bene. Now diuine aire, now is his soule rauisht, is it
not strange that sheepes guts should hale soules out of
mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's
done.

The Song.

Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceiuers euer,
One foote in Sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant neuer,
Then sigh not so, but let them goe,
And be you blithe and bonnie,
Conuerting all your sounds of woe,
Into hey nony nony.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heauy,
The fraud of men were euer so,
Since summer first was leauy,
Then sigh not so, &c

   Prince. By my troth a good song

   Balth. And an ill singer, my Lord

   Prince. Ha, no, no faith, thou singst well enough for a
shift

   Ben. And he had been a dog that should haue howld
thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his
bad voyce bode no mischiefe, I had as liefe haue heard
the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come after
it

   Prince. Yea marry, dost thou heare Balthasar? I pray
thee get vs some excellent musick: for to morrow night
we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window

   Balth. The best I can, my Lord.

Exit Balthasar.

  Prince. Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what
was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice
was in loue with signior Benedicke?
  Cla. O I, stalke on, stalke on, the foule sits. I did neuer
thinke that Lady would haue loued any man

   Leon. No, nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she
should so dote on Signior Benedicke, whom shee hath in
all outward behauiours seemed euer to abhorre

   Bene. Is't possible? sits the winde in that corner?
  Leo. By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to
thinke of it, but that she loues him with an inraged affection,
it is past the infinite of thought

   Prince. May be she doth but counterfeit

   Claud. Faith like enough

   Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counterfeit
of passion, came so neere the life of passion as she discouers
it

   Prince. Why what effects of passion shewes she?
  Claud. Baite the hooke well, this fish will bite

   Leon. What effects my Lord? shee will sit you, you
heard my daughter tell you how

   Clau. She did indeed

   Prince. How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would
haue thought her spirit had beene inuincible against all
assaults of affection

   Leo. I would haue sworne it had, my Lord, especially
against Benedicke

   Bene. I should thinke this a gull, but that the whitebearded
fellow speakes it: knauery cannot sure hide
himselfe in such reuerence

   Claud. He hath tane th' infection, hold it vp

   Prince. Hath shee made her affection known to Benedicke:
  Leonato. No, and sweares she neuer will, that's her
torment

   Claud. 'Tis true indeed, so your daughter saies: shall
I, saies she, that haue so oft encountred him with scorne,
write to him that I loue him?
  Leo. This saies shee now when shee is beginning to
write to him, for shee'll be vp twenty times a night, and
there will she sit in her smocke, till she haue writ a sheet
of paper: my daughter tells vs all

   Clau. Now you talke of a sheet of paper, I remember
a pretty iest your daughter told vs of

   Leon. O when she had writ it, & was reading it ouer,
she found Benedicke and Beatrice betweene the sheete

   Clau. That

   Leon. O she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence,
raild at her self, that she should be so immodest to write,
to one that shee knew would flout her: I measure him,
saies she, by my owne spirit, for I should flout him if hee
writ to mee, yea though I loue him, I should

   Clau. Then downe vpon her knees she falls, weepes,
sobs, beates her heart, teares her hayre, praies, curses, O
sweet Benedicke, God giue me patience

   Leon. She doth indeed, my daughter saies so, and the
extasie hath so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is
somtime afeard she will doe a desperate out-rage to her
selfe, it is very true

   Prince. It were good that Benedicke knew of it by some
other, if she will not discouer it

   Clau. To what end? he would but make a sport of it,
and torment the poore Lady worse

   Prin. And he should, it were an almes to hang him,
shee's an excellent sweet Lady, and (out of all suspition,)
she is vertuous

   Claudio. And she is exceeding wise

   Prince. In euery thing, but in louing Benedicke

   Leon. O my Lord, wisedome and bloud combating in
so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that bloud
hath the victory, I am sorry for her, as I haue iust cause,
being her Vncle, and her Guardian

   Prince. I would shee had bestowed this dotage on
mee, I would haue daft all other respects, and made her
halfe my selfe: I pray you tell Benedicke of it, and heare
what he will say

   Leon. Were it good thinke you?
  Clau. Hero thinkes surely she wil die, for she saies she
will die, if hee loue her not, and shee will die ere shee
make her loue knowne, and she will die if hee wooe her,
rather than shee will bate one breath of her accustomed
crossenesse

   Prince. She doth well, if she should make tender of her
loue, 'tis very possible hee'l scorne it, for the man (as you
know all) hath a contemptible spirit

   Clau. He is a very proper man

   Prin. He hath indeed a good outward happines

   Clau. 'Fore God, and in my minde very wise

   Prin. He doth indeed shew some sparkes that are like
wit

   Leon. And I take him to be valiant

   Prin. As Hector, I assure you, and in the managing of
quarrels you may see hee is wise, for either hee auoydes
them with great discretion, or vndertakes them with a
Christian-like feare

   Leon. If hee doe feare God, a must necessarilie keepe
peace, if hee breake the peace, hee ought to enter into a
quarrell with feare and trembling