Much Ado about Nothing by William Shakespeare
Act 2 - Scene 3
LEONATO’S orchard.
Benedick : Boy!
Boy : Signior?
Benedick : In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither
[p]to me in the
orchard.
Boy : I am here already, sir.
Benedick : I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again.
[p][Exit
Boy]
[p]I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much
[p]another man
is a fool when he dedicates his
[p]behaviors to love, will, after he
hath laughed at
[p]such shallow follies in others, become the
argument
[p]of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man
[p]is
Claudio. I have known when there was no music
[p]with him but the drum
and the fife; and now had he
[p]rather hear the tabour and the pipe: I
have known
[p]when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see
a
[p]good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake,
[p]carving the
fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to
[p]speak plain and to the
purpose, like an honest man
[p]and a soldier; and now is he turned
orthography; his
[p]words are a very fantastical banquet, just so
many
[p]strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with
[p]these
eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not
[p]be sworn, but love may
transform me to an oyster; but
[p]I'll take my oath on it, till he
have made an oyster
[p]of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One
woman
[p]is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am
[p]well;
another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all
[p]graces be in one
woman, one woman shall not come in
[p]my grace. Rich she shall be,
that's certain; wise,
[p]or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen
her;
[p]fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not
[p]near me;
noble, or not I for an angel; of good
[p]discourse, an excellent
musician, and her hair shall
[p]be of what colour it please God. Ha!
the prince and
[p]Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.
Don Pedro : Come, shall we hear this music?
Claudio : Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,
[p]As hush'd on purpose
to grace harmony!
Don Pedro : See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
Claudio : O, very well, my lord: the music ended,
[p]We'll fit the kid-fox with
a pennyworth.
Don Pedro : Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.
Balthasar : O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
[p]To slander music any more
than once.
Don Pedro : It is the witness still of excellency
[p]To put a strange face on his
own perfection.
[p]I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.
Balthasar : Because you talk of wooing, I will sing;
[p]Since many a wooer doth
commence his suit
[p]To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes,
[p]Yet
will he swear he loves.
Don Pedro : Now, pray thee, come;
[p]Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,
[p]Do
it in notes.
Balthasar : Note this before my notes;
[p]There's not a note of mine that's worth
the noting.
Don Pedro : Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks;
[p]Note, notes,
forsooth, and nothing.
Benedick : Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it
[p]not strange that
sheeps' guts should hale souls out
[p]of men's bodies? Well, a horn
for my money, when
[p]all's done.
Balthasar : Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
[p]Men were deceivers ever,
[p]One
foot in sea and one on shore,
[p]To one thing constant never:
[p]Then
sigh not so, but let them go,
[p]And be you blithe and
bonny,
[p]Converting all your sounds of woe
[p]Into Hey nonny,
nonny.
[p]Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
[p]Of dumps so dull and
heavy;
[p]The fraud of men was ever so,
[p]Since summer first was
leafy:
[p]Then sigh not so, &c.
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 : An he had been a dog that should have howled thus,
[p]they would have
hanged him: and I pray God his bad
[p]voice bode no mischief. I had as
lief have heard the
[p]night-raven, come what plague could have come
after
[p]it.
Don Pedro : Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee,
[p]get us some
excellent music; for to-morrow night we
[p]would have it at the Lady
Hero's chamber-window.
Balthasar : The best I can, my lord.
Don Pedro : Do so: farewell.
[p][Exit BALTHASAR]
[p]Come hither, Leonato. What was
it you told me of
[p]to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love
with
[p]Signior Benedick?
Claudio : O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did
[p]never think that
lady would have loved any man.
Leonato : No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she
[p]should so dote on
Signior Benedick, whom she hath in
[p]all outward behaviors seemed
ever to abhor.
Benedick : Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
Leonato : By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think
[p]of it but that
she loves him with an enraged
[p]affection: it is past the infinite of
thought.
Don Pedro : May be she doth but counterfeit.
Claudio : Faith, like enough.
Leonato : O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of
[p]passion came so
near the life of passion as she
[p]discovers it.
Don Pedro : Why, what effects of passion shows she?
Claudio : Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.
Leonato : What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard
[p]my daughter tell
you how.
Claudio : She did, indeed.
Don Pedro : How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I
[p]thought her spirit
had been invincible against all
[p]assaults of affection.
Leonato : I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially
[p]against Benedick.
Benedick : I should think this a gull, but that the
[p]white-bearded fellow
speaks it: knavery cannot,
[p]sure, hide himself in such reverence.
Claudio : He hath ta'en the 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
[p]I,' says she,
'that have so oft encountered him
[p]with scorn, write to him that I
love him?'
Leonato : This says she now when she is beginning to write to
[p]him; for she'll
be up twenty times a night, and
[p]there will she sit in her smock
till she have writ a
[p]sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all.
Claudio : Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a
[p]pretty jest your
daughter told us of.
Leonato : O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she
[p]found Benedick
and Beatrice between the sheet?
Claudio : That.
Leonato : O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence;
[p]railed at
herself, that she should be so immodest
[p]to write to one that she
knew would flout her; 'I
[p]measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit;
for I
[p]should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I
[p]love
him, I should.'
Claudio : Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs,
[p]beats her heart,
tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O
[p]sweet Benedick! God give me
patience!'
Leonato : She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the
[p]ecstasy hath so much
overborne her that my daughter
[p]is sometime afeared she will do a
desperate outrage
[p]to herself: it is very true.
Don Pedro : It were good that Benedick knew of it by some
[p]other, if she will
not discover it.
Claudio : To what end? He would make but a sport of it and
[p]torment the poor
lady worse.
Don Pedro : An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an
[p]excellent sweet
lady; and, out of all suspicion,
[p]she is virtuous.
Claudio : And she is exceeding wise.
Don Pedro : In every thing but in loving Benedick.
Leonato : O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender
[p]a body, we have
ten proofs to one that blood hath
[p]the victory. I am sorry for her,
as I have just
[p]cause, being her uncle and her guardian.
Don Pedro : I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would
[p]have daffed all
other respects and made her half
[p]myself. I pray you, tell Benedick
of it, and hear
[p]what a' will say.
Leonato : Were it good, think you?
Claudio : Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she
[p]will die, if he
love her not, and she will die, ere
[p]she make her love known, and
she will die, if he woo
[p]her, rather than she will bate one breath
of her
[p]accustomed crossness.
Don Pedro : She doth well: if she should make tender of her
[p]love, 'tis very
possible he'll scorn it; for the
[p]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
[p]quarrels you may
say he is wise; for either he
[p]avoids them with great discretion, or
undertakes
[p]them with a most Christian-like fear.
Leonato : If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace:
[p]if he break the
peace, he ought to enter into a
[p]quarrel with fear and trembling.
Don Pedro : And so will he do; for the man doth fear God,
[p]howsoever it seems
not in him by some large jests
[p]he will make. Well I am sorry for
your niece. Shall
[p]we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love?
Claudio : Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with
[p]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:
[p]let it cool the
while. I love Benedick well; and I
[p]could wish he would modestly
examine himself, to see
[p]how much he is unworthy so good a lady.
Leonato : My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.
Claudio : If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never
[p]trust my
expectation.
Don Pedro : Let there be the same net spread for her; and that
[p]must your
daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The
[p]sport will be, when they
hold one an opinion of
[p]another's dotage, and no such matter: that's
the
[p]scene that I would see, which will be merely a
[p]dumb-show.
Let us send her to call him in to dinner.
Benedick : [Coming forward] This can be no trick: the
[p]conference was sadly
borne. They have the truth of
[p]this from Hero. They seem to pity the
lady: it
[p]seems her affections have their full bent. Love
me!
[p]why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured:
[p]they say
I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive
[p]the love come from her;
they say too that she will
[p]rather die than give any sign of
affection. I did
[p]never think to marry: I must not seem proud:
happy
[p]are they that hear their detractions and can put
[p]them to
mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a
[p]truth, I can bear them
witness; and virtuous; 'tis
[p]so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but
for loving
[p]me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor
[p]no
great argument of her folly, for I will be
[p]horribly in love with
her. I may chance have some
[p]odd quirks and remnants of wit broken
on me,
[p]because I have railed so long against marriage: but
[p]doth
not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat
[p]in his youth that he
cannot endure in his age.
[p]Shall quips and sentences and these paper
bullets of
[p]the brain awe a man from the career of his
humour?
[p]No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would
[p]die a
bachelor, I did not think I should live till I
[p]were married. Here
comes Beatrice. By this day!
[p]she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks
of love in
[p]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
[p]pains to thank
me: if it had been painful, I would
[p]not have come.
Benedick : You take pleasure then in the message?
Beatrice : Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's
[p]point and choke a
daw withal. You have no stomach,
[p]signior: fare you well.
Benedick : Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in
[p]to dinner;'
there's a double meaning in that 'I took
[p]no more pains for those
thanks than you took pains
[p]to thank me.' that's as much as to say,
Any pains
[p]that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do
[p]not
take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not
[p]love her, I am a Jew.
I will go get her picture.
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Next: Act 3 - Scene 1
