Much Ado about Nothing by William Shakespeare
Act 5 - Scene 4
A room in LEONATO’S house.
Friar Francis : Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leonato : So are the prince and Claudio, who accused her
[p]Upon the error that
you heard debated:
[p]But Margaret was in some fault for
this,
[p]Although against her will, as it appears
[p]In the true
course of all the question.
Antonio : Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
Benedick : And so am I, being else by faith enforced
[p]To call young Claudio to
a reckoning for it.
Leonato : Well, daughter, and you gentle-women all,
[p]Withdraw into a chamber
by yourselves,
[p]And when I send for you, come hither
mask'd.
[p][Exeunt Ladies]
[p]The prince and Claudio promised by this
hour
[p]To visit me. You know your office, brother:
[p]You must be
father to your brother's daughter
[p]And give her to young Claudio.
Antonio : Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
Benedick : Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
Friar Francis : To do what, signior?
Benedick : To bind me, or undo me; one of them.
[p]Signior Leonato, truth it is,
good signior,
[p]Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
Leonato : That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most true.
Benedick : And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leonato : The sight whereof I think you had from me,
[p]From Claudio and the
prince: but what's your will?
Benedick : Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:
[p]But, for my will, my will is your
good will
[p]May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
[p]In the
state of honourable marriage:
[p]In which, good friar, I shall desire
your help.
Leonato : My heart is with your liking.
Friar Francis : And my help.
[p]Here comes the prince and Claudio.
Don Pedro : Good morrow to this fair assembly.
Leonato : Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio:
[p]We here attend you. Are
you yet determined
[p]To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
Claudio : I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.
Leonato : Call her forth, brother; here's the friar ready.
Don Pedro : Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
[p]That you have such a
February face,
[p]So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
Claudio : I think he thinks upon the savage bull.
[p]Tush, fear not, man; we'll
tip thy horns with gold
[p]And all Europa shall rejoice at thee,
[p]As
once Europa did at lusty Jove,
[p]When he would play the noble beast
in love.
Benedick : Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;
[p]And some such strange bull
leap'd your father's cow,
[p]And got a calf in that same noble
feat
[p]Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
Claudio : For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings.
[p][Re-enter ANTONIO,
with the Ladies masked]
[p]Which is the lady I must seize upon?
Antonio : This same is she, and I do give you her.
Claudio : Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face.
Leonato : No, that you shall not, till you take her hand
[p]Before this friar
and swear to marry her.
Claudio : Give me your hand: before this holy friar,
[p]I am your husband, if
you like of me.
Hero : And when I lived, I was your other wife:
[p][Unmasking]
[p]And when
you loved, you were my other husband.
Claudio : Another Hero!
Hero : Nothing certainer:
[p]One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
[p]And
surely as I live, I am a maid.
Don Pedro : The former Hero! Hero that is dead!
Leonato : She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.
Friar Francis : All this amazement can I qualify:
[p]When after that the holy rites
are ended,
[p]I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
[p]Meantime
let wonder seem familiar,
[p]And to the chapel let us presently.
Benedick : Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?
Beatrice : [Unmasking] I answer to that name. What is your will?
Benedick : Do not you love me?
Beatrice : Why, no; no more than reason.
Benedick : Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio
[p]Have been deceived;
they swore you did.
Beatrice : Do not you love me?
Benedick : Troth, no; no more than reason.
Beatrice : Why, then my cousin Margaret and Ursula
[p]Are much deceived; for they
did swear you did.
Benedick : They swore that you were almost sick for me.
Beatrice : They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
Benedick : 'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
Beatrice : No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
Leonato : Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.
Claudio : And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
[p]For here's a paper
written in his hand,
[p]A halting sonnet of his own pure
brain,
[p]Fashion'd to Beatrice.
Hero : And here's another
[p]Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her
pocket,
[p]Containing her affection unto Benedick.
Benedick : A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts.
[p]Come, I will
have thee; but, by this light, I take
[p]thee for pity.
Beatrice : I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield
[p]upon great
persuasion; and partly to save your life,
[p]for I was told you were
in a consumption.
Benedick : Peace! I will stop your mouth.
Don Pedro : How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?
Benedick : I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of
[p]wit-crackers cannot flout
me out of my humour. Dost
[p]thou think I care for a satire or an
epigram? No:
[p]if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall
wear
[p]nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do
[p]purpose to
marry, I will think nothing to any
[p]purpose that the world can say
against it; and
[p]therefore never flout at me for what I have
said
[p]against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is
my
[p]conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to
[p]have beaten
thee, but in that thou art like to be my
[p]kinsman, live unbruised
and love my cousin.
Claudio : I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice,
[p]that I might
have cudgelled thee out of thy single
[p]life, to make thee a
double-dealer; which, out of
[p]question, thou wilt be, if my cousin
do not look
[p]exceedingly narrowly to thee.
Benedick : Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere
[p]we are married,
that we may lighten our own hearts
[p]and our wives' heels.
Leonato : We'll have dancing afterward.
Benedick : First, of my word; therefore play, music. Prince,
[p]thou art sad; get
thee a wife, get thee a wife:
[p]there is no staff more reverend than
one tipped with horn.
Messenger : My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
[p]And brought with
armed men back to Messina.
Benedick : Think not on him till to-morrow:
[p]I'll devise thee brave punishments
for him.
[p]Strike up, pipers.
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Next: Act 5 - Scene 4
