Much Ado about Nothing by William Shakespeare

Act 4 - Scene 1

A church.

Leonato : Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the plain [p]form of marriage,
and you shall recount their [p]particular duties afterwards.

Friar Francis : You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.

Claudio : No.

Leonato : To be married to her: friar, you come to marry her.

Friar Francis : Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.

Hero : I do.

Friar Francis : If either of you know any inward impediment why you [p]should not be
conjoined, charge you, on your souls, [p]to utter it.

Claudio : Know you any, Hero?

Hero : None, my lord.

Friar Francis : Know you any, count?

Leonato : I dare make his answer, none.

Claudio : O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily [p]do, not
knowing what they do!

Benedick : How now! interjections? Why, then, some be of [p]laughing, as, ah, ha,
he!

Claudio : Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave: [p]Will you with free and
unconstrained soul [p]Give me this maid, your daughter?

Leonato : As freely, son, as God did give her me.

Claudio : And what have I to give you back, whose worth [p]May counterpoise this
rich and precious gift?

Don Pedro : Nothing, unless you render her again.

Claudio : Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness. [p]There, Leonato, take
her back again: [p]Give not this rotten orange to your
friend; [p]She's but the sign and semblance of her honour. [p]Behold
how like a maid she blushes here! [p]O, what authority and show of
truth [p]Can cunning sin cover itself withal! [p]Comes not that blood
as modest evidence [p]To witness simple virtue? Would you not
swear, [p]All you that see her, that she were a maid, [p]By these
exterior shows? But she is none: [p]She knows the heat of a luxurious
bed; [p]Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.

Leonato : What do you mean, my lord?

Claudio : Not to be married, [p]Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.

Leonato : Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof, [p]Have vanquish'd the
resistance of her youth, [p]And made defeat of her virginity,--

Claudio : I know what you would say: if I have known her, [p]You will say she
did embrace me as a husband, [p]And so extenuate the 'forehand
sin: [p]No, Leonato, [p]I never tempted her with word too
large; [p]But, as a brother to his sister, show'd [p]Bashful sincerity
and comely love.

Hero : And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?

Claudio : Out on thee! Seeming! I will write against it: [p]You seem to me as
Dian in her orb, [p]As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown; [p]But
you are more intemperate in your blood [p]Than Venus, or those
pamper'd animals [p]That rage in savage sensuality.

Hero : Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?

Leonato : Sweet prince, why speak not you?

Don Pedro : What should I speak? [p]I stand dishonour'd, that have gone
about [p]To link my dear friend to a common stale.

Leonato : Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?

Don John : Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.

Benedick : This looks not like a nuptial.

Hero : True! O God!

Claudio : Leonato, stand I here? [p]Is this the prince? is this the prince's
brother? [p]Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own?

Leonato : All this is so: but what of this, my lord?

Claudio : Let me but move one question to your daughter; [p]And, by that
fatherly and kindly power [p]That you have in her, bid her answer
truly.

Leonato : I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.

Hero : O, God defend me! how am I beset! [p]What kind of catechising call you
this?

Claudio : To make you answer truly to your name.

Hero : Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name [p]With any just reproach?

Claudio : Marry, that can Hero; [p]Hero itself can blot out Hero's
virtue. [p]What man was he talk'd with you yesternight [p]Out at your
window betwixt twelve and one? [p]Now, if you are a maid, answer to
this.

Hero : I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.

Don Pedro : Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato, [p]I am sorry you must hear:
upon mine honour, [p]Myself, my brother and this grieved count [p]Did
see her, hear her, at that hour last night [p]Talk with a ruffian at
her chamber-window [p]Who hath indeed, most like a liberal
villain, [p]Confess'd the vile encounters they have had [p]A thousand
times in secret.

Don John : Fie, fie! they are not to be named, my lord, [p]Not to be spoke
of; [p]There is not chastity enough in language [p]Without offence to
utter them. Thus, pretty lady, [p]I am sorry for thy much
misgovernment.

Claudio : O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been, [p]If half thy outward graces had
been placed [p]About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart! [p]But
fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell, [p]Thou pure impiety
and impious purity! [p]For thee I'll lock up all the gates of
love, [p]And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang, [p]To turn all
beauty into thoughts of harm, [p]And never shall it more be gracious.

Leonato : Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?

Beatrice : Why, how now, cousin! wherefore sink you down?

Don John : Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light, [p]Smother her
spirits up.

Benedick : How doth the lady?

Beatrice : Dead, I think. Help, uncle! [p]Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior
Benedick! Friar!

Leonato : O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand. [p]Death is the fairest cover
for her shame [p]That may be wish'd for.

Beatrice : How now, cousin Hero!

Friar Francis : Have comfort, lady.

Leonato : Dost thou look up?

Friar Francis : Yea, wherefore should she not?

Leonato : Wherefore! Why, doth not every earthly thing [p]Cry shame upon her?
Could she here deny [p]The story that is printed in her blood? [p]Do
not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes: [p]For, did I think thou
wouldst not quickly die, [p]Thought I thy spirits were stronger than
thy shames, [p]Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, [p]Strike
at thy life. Grieved I, I had but one? [p]Chid I for that at frugal
nature's frame? [p]O, one too much by thee! Why had I one? [p]Why ever
wast thou lovely in my eyes? [p]Why had I not with charitable
hand [p]Took up a beggar's issue at my gates, [p]Who smirch'd thus and
mired with infamy, [p]I might have said 'No part of it is
mine; [p]This shame derives itself from unknown loins'? [p]But mine
and mine I loved and mine I praised [p]And mine that I was proud on,
mine so much [p]That I myself was to myself not mine, [p]Valuing of
her,--why, she, O, she is fallen [p]Into a pit of ink, that the wide
sea [p]Hath drops too few to wash her clean again [p]And salt too
little which may season give [p]To her foul-tainted flesh!

Benedick : Sir, sir, be patient. [p]For my part, I am so attired in wonder, [p]I
know not what to say.

Beatrice : O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!

Benedick : Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?

Beatrice : No, truly not; although, until last night, [p]I have this twelvemonth
been her bedfellow.

Leonato : Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made [p]Which was before
barr'd up with ribs of iron! [p]Would the two princes lie, and Claudio
lie, [p]Who loved her so, that, speaking of her foulness, [p]Wash'd it
with tears? Hence from her! let her die.

Friar Francis : Hear me a little; for I have only been [p]Silent so long and given way
unto [p]This course of fortune [--] [p]By noting of the lady I have
mark'd [p]A thousand blushing apparitions [p]To start into her face, a
thousand innocent shames [p]In angel whiteness beat away those
blushes; [p]And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, [p]To burn the
errors that these princes hold [p]Against her maiden truth. Call me a
fool; [p]Trust not my reading nor my observations, [p]Which with
experimental seal doth warrant [p]The tenor of my book; trust not my
age, [p]My reverence, calling, nor divinity, [p]If this sweet lady lie
not guiltless here [p]Under some biting error.

Leonato : Friar, it cannot be. [p]Thou seest that all the grace that she hath
left [p]Is that she will not add to her damnation [p]A sin of perjury;
she not denies it: [p]Why seek'st thou then to cover with
excuse [p]That which appears in proper nakedness?

Friar Francis : Lady, what man is he you are accused of?

Hero : They know that do accuse me; I know none: [p]If I know more of any man
alive [p]Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, [p]Let all my
sins lack mercy! O my father, [p]Prove you that any man with me
conversed [p]At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight [p]Maintain'd the
change of words with any creature, [p]Refuse me, hate me, torture me
to death!

Friar Francis : There is some strange misprision in the princes.

Benedick : Two of them have the very bent of honour; [p]And if their wisdoms be
misled in this, [p]The practise of it lives in John the
bastard, [p]Whose spirits toil in frame of villanies.

Leonato : I know not. If they speak but truth of her, [p]These hands shall tear
her; if they wrong her honour, [p]The proudest of them shall well hear
of it. [p]Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, [p]Nor age so
eat up my invention, [p]Nor fortune made such havoc of my
means, [p]Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, [p]But they
shall find, awaked in such a kind, [p]Both strength of limb and policy
of mind, [p]Ability in means and choice of friends, [p]To quit me of
them throughly.

Friar Francis : Pause awhile, [p]And let my counsel sway you in this case. [p]Your
daughter here the princes left for dead: [p]Let her awhile be secretly
kept in, [p]And publish it that she is dead indeed; [p]Maintain a
mourning ostentation [p]And on your family's old monument [p]Hang
mournful epitaphs and do all rites [p]That appertain unto a burial.

Leonato : What shall become of this? what will this do?

Friar Francis : Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf [p]Change slander to
remorse; that is some good: [p]But not for that dream I on this
strange course, [p]But on this travail look for greater birth. [p]She
dying, as it must so be maintain'd, [p]Upon the instant that she was
accused, [p]Shall be lamented, pitied and excused [p]Of every hearer:
for it so falls out [p]That what we have we prize not to the
worth [p]Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, [p]Why, then
we rack the value, then we find [p]The virtue that possession would
not show us [p]Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with
Claudio: [p]When he shall hear she died upon his words, [p]The idea of
her life shall sweetly creep [p]Into his study of imagination, [p]And
every lovely organ of her life [p]Shall come apparell'd in more
precious habit, [p]More moving-delicate and full of life, [p]Into the
eye and prospect of his soul, [p]Than when she lived indeed; then
shall he mourn, [p]If ever love had interest in his liver, [p]And wish
he had not so accused her, [p]No, though he thought his accusation
true. [p]Let this be so, and doubt not but success [p]Will fashion the
event in better shape [p]Than I can lay it down in likelihood. [p]But
if all aim but this be levell'd false, [p]The supposition of the
lady's death [p]Will quench the wonder of her infamy: [p]And if it
sort not well, you may conceal her, [p]As best befits her wounded
reputation, [p]In some reclusive and religious life, [p]Out of all
eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.

Benedick : Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you: [p]And though you know my
inwardness and love [p]Is very much unto the prince and
Claudio, [p]Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this [p]As secretly
and justly as your soul [p]Should with your body.

Leonato : Being that I flow in grief, [p]The smallest twine may lead me.

Friar Francis : 'Tis well consented: presently away; [p]For to strange sores strangely
they strain the cure. [p]Come, lady, die to live: this
wedding-day [p]Perhaps is but prolong'd: have patience and endure.

Benedick : Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

Beatrice : Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

Benedick : I will not desire that.

Beatrice : You have no reason; I do it freely.

Benedick : Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

Beatrice : Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!

Benedick : Is there any way to show such friendship?

Beatrice : A very even way, but no such friend.

Benedick : May a man do it?

Beatrice : It is a man's office, but not yours.

Benedick : I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is [p]not that
strange?

Beatrice : As strange as the thing I know not. It were as [p]possible for me to
say I loved nothing so well as [p]you: but believe me not; and yet I
lie not; I [p]confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my
cousin.

Benedick : By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

Beatrice : Do not swear, and eat it.

Benedick : I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make [p]him eat it
that says I love not you.

Beatrice : Will you not eat your word?

Benedick : With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest [p]I love thee.

Beatrice : Why, then, God forgive me!

Benedick : What offence, sweet Beatrice?

Beatrice : You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to [p]protest I loved
you.

Benedick : And do it with all thy heart.

Beatrice : I love you with so much of my heart that none is [p]left to protest.

Benedick : Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

Beatrice : Kill Claudio.

Benedick : Ha! not for the wide world.

Beatrice : You kill me to deny it. Farewell.

Benedick : Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

Beatrice : I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in [p]you: nay, I pray
you, let me go.

Benedick : Beatrice,--

Beatrice : In faith, I will go.

Benedick : We'll be friends first.

Beatrice : You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.

Benedick : Is Claudio thine enemy?

Beatrice : Is he not approved in the height a villain, that [p]hath slandered,
scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O [p]that I were a man! What, bear
her in hand until they [p]come to take hands; and then, with
public [p]accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour, [p]--O
God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart [p]in the market-place.

Benedick : Hear me, Beatrice,--

Beatrice : Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!

Benedick : Nay, but, Beatrice,--

Beatrice : Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.

Benedick : Beat--

Beatrice : Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, [p]a goodly count,
Count Comfect; a sweet gallant, [p]surely! O that I were a man for his
sake! or that I [p]had any friend would be a man for my sake!
But [p]manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into [p]compliment,
and men are only turned into tongue, and [p]trim ones too: he is now
as valiant as Hercules [p]that only tells a lie and swears it. I
cannot be a [p]man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with
grieving.

Benedick : Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.

Beatrice : Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

Benedick : Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?

Beatrice : Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.

Benedick : Enough, I am engaged; I will challenge him. I will [p]kiss your hand,
and so I leave you. By this hand, [p]Claudio shall render me a dear
account. As you [p]hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort
your [p]cousin: I must say she is dead: and so, farewell.

Previous: Act 3 - Scene 5

Next: Act 4 - Scene 2

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