MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

Act 4 Scene 1

(Enter Don Pedro the Prince, Don John the bastard, Leonato, Friar Francis, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice)
l1l	Leonato	 Come, Friar Francis, be brief. Only to the plain
l2l		form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular
l3l		duties afterwards.
l4l	Friar	(to Claudio)
		 You come hither, my lord, to marry
l5l		this lady?
l6l	Claudio	No.
l7l	Leonato	To be married to her. Friar, you come to marry
l8l		her.
l9l	Friar	(to Hero)
		 Lady, you come hither to be married to
l10l		this count?
l11l	Hero	I do.
l12l	Friar	If either of you know any inward impediment why
l13l		you should not be conjoined, I charge you on your
l14l		souls to utter it.
l15l	Claudio	Know you any, Hero?
l16l	Hero	None, my lord.
l17l	Friar	Know you any, Count?
l18l	Leonato	I dare make his answer—none.
l19l	Claudio	O, what men dare do! What men may do! What
l20l		men daily do, not knowing what they do!
l21l	Benedick	How now! Interjections? Why then, some be of
l22l		laughing, as “ah, ha, he!”
l23l	Claudio	 Stand thee by, Friar. Father, by your leave,
l24l		Will you with free and unconstrainèd soul
l25l		Give me this maid, your daughter?
l26l	Leonato	As freely, son, as God did give her me.
l27l	Claudio	And what have I to give you back whose worth
l28l		May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
l29l	Don Pedro	Nothing, unless you render her again.
l30l	Claudio	Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
l31l		There, Leonato, take her back again.
l32l		Give not this rotten orange to your friend.
l33l		She’s but the sign and semblance of her honour.
l34l		Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
l35l		O, what authority and show of truth
l36l		Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
l37l		Comes not that blood as modest evidence
l38l		To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear,
l39l		All you that see her, that she were a maid,
l40l		By these exterior shows? But she is none.
l41l		She knows the heat of a luxurious bed.
l42l		Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
l43l	Leonato	What do you mean, my lord?
	Claudio	Not to be married,
l44l		Not to knit my soul to an approvèd wanton.
l45l	Leonato	Dear my lord, if you in your own proof
l46l		Have vanquished the resistance of her youth
l47l		And made defeat of her virginity—
l48l	Claudio	I know what you would say. If I have known her,
l49l		You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
l50l		And so extenuate the forehand sin.
l51l		No, Leonato,
l52l		I never tempted her with word too large,
l53l		But as a brother to his sister showed
l54l		Bashful sincerity and comely love.
l55l	Hero	And seemed I ever otherwise to you?
l56l	Claudio	Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it.
l57l		You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
l58l		As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.
l59l		But you are more intemperate in your blood
l60l		Than Venus or those pampered animals
l61l		That rage in savage sensuality.
l62l	Hero	Is my lord well that he doth speak so wide?
l63l	Leonato	Sweet Prince, why speak not you?
	Don Pedro	What should I speak?
l64l		I stand dishonoured, that have gone about
l65l		To link my dear friend to a common stale.
l66l	Leonato	Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
l67l	Don John	Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
l68l	Benedick	This looks not like a nuptial.
l69l	Hero	“True”! O God!
l70l	Claudio	Leonato, stand I here?
l71l		Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince’s brother?
l72l		Is this face Hero’s? Are our eyes our own?
l73l	Leonato	All this is so. But what of this, my lord?
l74l	Claudio	Let me but move one question to your daughter,
l75l		And by that fatherly and kindly power
l76l		That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
l77l	Leonato	(to Hero)
		 I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
l78l	Hero	O God defend me, how am I beset!
l79l		What kind of catechizing call you this?
l80l	Claudio	To make you answer truly to your name.
l81l	Hero	Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
l82l		With any just reproach?
	Claudio	Marry, that can Hero.
l83l		Hero itself can blot out Hero’s virtue.
l84l		What man was he talked with you yesternight
l85l		Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
l86l		Now if you are a maid, answer to this.
l87l	Hero	I talked with no man at that hour, my lord.
l88l	Don Pedro	Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
l89l		I am sorry you must hear. Upon mine honour,
l90l		Myself, my brother, and this grievèd Count
l91l		Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night
l92l		Talk with a ruffian at her chamber window,
l93l		Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
l94l		Confessed the vile encounters they have had
l95l		A thousand times in secret.
	Don John	Fie, fie, they are
l96l		Not to be named, my lord, not to be spoke of.
l97l		There is not chastity enough in language
l98l		Without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady,
l99l		I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
l100l	Claudio	O Hero! What a Hero hadst thou been
l101l		If half thy outward graces had been placed
l102l		About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
l103l		But fare thee well, most foul, most fair, farewell
l104l		Thou pure impiety and impious purity.
l105l		For thee I’ll lock up all the gates of love,
l106l		And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang
l107l		To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
l108l		And never shall it more be gracious.
l109l	Leonato	Hath no man’s dagger here a point for me?
		(Hero falls to the ground)
l110l	Beatrice	 Why, how now, cousin, wherefore sink you down?
l111l	Don John	Come. Let us go. These things come thus to light
l112l		Smother her spirits up.
		(Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio)
l113l	Benedick	 How doth the lady?
	Beatrice	Dead, I think. Help, uncle.
l114l		Hero, why Hero! Uncle, Signor Benedick, Friar—
l115l	Leonato	O fate, take not away thy heavy hand.
l116l		Death is the fairest cover for her shame
l117l		That may be wished for.
	Beatrice	How now, cousin Hero?
l118l	Friar	(to Hero)
		 Have comfort, lady.
l119l	Leonato	(to Hero)
		 Dost thou look up?
l120l	Friar	Yea, wherefore should she not?
l121l	Leonato	Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing
l122l		Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
l123l		The story that is printed in her blood?
l124l		Do not live, Hero, do not ope thine eyes,
l125l		For did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
l126l		Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
l127l		Myself would on the rearward of reproaches
l128l		Strike at thy life. Grieved I I had but one?
l129l		Chid I for that at frugal nature’s frame?
l130l		O one too much by thee! Why had I one?
l131l		Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes?
l132l		Why had I not with charitable hand
l133l		Took up a beggar’s issue at my gates,
l134l		Who smirchèd thus and mired with infamy,
l135l		I might have said “No part of it is mine,
l136l		This shame derives itself from unknown loins.”
l137l		But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised,
l138l		And mine that I was proud on, mine so much
l139l		That I myself was to myself not mine,
l140l		Valuing of her—why she, O she is fallen
l141l		Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
l142l		Hath drops too few to wash her clean again,
l143l		And salt too little which may season give
l144l		To her foul tainted flesh.
	Benedick	Sir, sir, be patient.
l145l		For my part, I am so attired in wonder
l146l		I know not what to say.
l147l	Beatrice	O, on my soul, my cousin is belied.
l148l	Benedick	Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
l149l	Beatrice	No, truly not, although until last night
l150l		I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
l151l	Leonato	Confirmed, confirmed. O, that is stronger made
l152l		Which was before barred up with ribs of iron.
l153l		Would the two princes lie? And Claudio lie,
l154l		Who loved her so that, speaking of her foulness,
l155l		Washed it with tears? Hence from her, let her die.
l156l	Friar	Hear me a little,
l157l		For I have only been silent so long
l158l		And given way unto this course of fortune
l159l		[]
l160l		By noting of the lady. I have marked
l161l		A thousand blushing apparitions
l162l		To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
l163l		In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,
l164l		And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
l165l		To burn the errors that these princes hold
l166l		Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool,
l167l		Trust not my reading nor my observations,
l168l		Which with experimental seal doth warrant
l169l		The tenor of my book. Trust not my age,
l170l		My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
l171l		If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here
l172l		Under some biting error.
	Leonato	Friar, it cannot be.
l173l		Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left
l174l		Is that she will not add to her damnation
l175l		A sin of perjury. She not denies it.
l176l		Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse
l177l		That which appears in proper nakedness?
l178l	Friar	(to Hero)
		 Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
l179l	Hero	They know that do accuse me. I know none.
l180l		If I know more of any man alive
l181l		Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
l182l		Let all my sins lack mercy. O my father,
l183l		Prove you that any man with me conversed
l184l		At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
l185l		Maintained the change of words with any creature,
l186l		Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death.
l187l	Friar	There is some strange misprision in the princes.
l188l	Benedick	Two of them have the very bent of honour,
l189l		And if their wisdoms be misled in this
l190l		The practice of it lives in John the bastard,
l191l		Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies.
l192l	Leonato	I know not. If they speak but truth of her
l193l		These hands shall tear her. If they wrong her honour
l194l		The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
l195l		Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
l196l		Nor age so eat up my invention,
l197l		Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
l198l		Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
l199l		But they shall find awaked in such a kind
l200l		Both strength of limb and policy of mind,
l201l		Ability in means, and choice of friends,
l202l		To quit me of them throughly.
	Friar	Pause awhile,
l203l		And let my counsel sway you in this case.
l204l		Your daughter here the princes left for dead,
l205l		Let her a while be secretly kept in,
l206l		And publish it that she is dead indeed.
l207l		Maintain a mourning ostentation,
l208l		And on your family’s old monument
l209l		Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
l210l		That appertain unto a burial.
l211l	Leonato	What shall become of this? What will this do?
l212l	Friar	Marry, this, well carried, shall on her behalf
l213l		Change slander to remorse. That is some good.
l214l		But not for that dream I on this strange course,
l215l		But on this travail look for greater birth.
l216l		She—dying, as it must be so maintained,
l217l		Upon the instant that she was accused—
l218l		Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused
l219l		Of every hearer. For it so falls out
l220l		That what we have, we prize not to the worth
l221l		Whiles we enjoy it, but, being lacked and lost,
l222l		Why then we rack the value, then we find
l223l		The virtue that possession would not show us
l224l		Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio.
l225l		When he shall hear she died upon his words,
l226l		Th’ idea of her life shall sweetly creep
l227l		Into his study of imagination,
l228l		And every lovely organ of her life
l229l		Shall come apparelled in more precious habit,
l230l		More moving-delicate, and full of life,
l231l		Into the eye and prospect of his soul
l232l		Than when she lived indeed. Then shall he mourn,
l233l		If ever love had interest in his liver,
l234l		And wish he had not so accusèd her,
l235l		No, though he thought his accusation true.
l236l		Let this be so, and doubt not but success
l237l		Will fashion the event in better shape
l238l		Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
l239l		But if all aim but this be levelled false,
l240l		The supposition of the lady’s death
l241l		Will quench the wonder of her infamy.
l242l		And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,
l243l		As best befits her wounded reputation,
l244l		In some reclusive and religious life,
l245l		Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
l246l	Benedick	Signor Leonato, let the Friar advise you.
l247l		And though you know my inwardness and love
l248l		Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio,
l249l		Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
l250l		As secretly and justly as your soul
l251l		Should with your body.
l252l	Leonato	Being that I flow in grief,
l253l		The smallest twine may lead me.
l254l	Friar	’Tis well consented. Presently away,
l255l		For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.
l256l		(To Hero)
		 Come, lady, die to live. This wedding day
l257l		Perhaps is but prolonged. Have patience, and endure.
		(Exeunt all but Beatrice and Benedick)
l258l	Benedick	 Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
l259l	Beatrice	Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
l260l	Benedick	I will not desire that.
l261l	Beatrice	You have no reason, I do it freely.
l262l	Benedick	Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
l263l	Beatrice	Ah, how much might the man deserve of me
l264l		that would right her!
l265l	Benedick	Is there any way to show such friendship?
l266l	Beatrice	A very even way, but no such friend.
l267l	Benedick	May a man do it?
l268l	Beatrice	It is a man’s office, but not yours.
l269l	Benedick	I do love nothing in the world so well as you.
l270l		Is not that strange?
l271l	Beatrice	As strange as the thing I know not. It were as
l272l		possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you,
l273l		but believe me not, and yet I lie not. I confess nothing
l274l		nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
l275l	Benedick	By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
l276l	Beatrice	Do not swear and eat it.
l277l	Benedick	I will swear by it that you love me, and I will
l278l		make him eat it that says I love not you.
l279l	Beatrice	Will you not eat your word?
l280l	Benedick	With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest
l281l		I love thee.
l282l	Beatrice	Why then, God forgive me.
l283l	Benedick	What offence, sweet Beatrice?
l284l	Beatrice	You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was
l285l		about to protest I loved you.
l286l	Benedick	And do it with all thy heart.
l287l	Beatrice	I love you with so much of my heart that none
l288l		is left to protest.
l289l	Benedick	Come, bid me do anything for thee.
l290l	Beatrice	Kill Claudio.
l291l	Benedick	Ha! Not for the wide world.
l292l	Beatrice	You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
l293l	Benedick	Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
l294l	Beatrice	I am gone though I am here. There is no love
l295l		in you.—Nay, I pray you, let me go.
l296l	Benedick	Beatrice.
l297l	Beatrice	In faith, I will go.
l298l	Benedick	We’ll be friends first.
l299l	Beatrice	You dare easier be friends with me than fight
l300l		with mine enemy.
l301l	Benedick	Is Claudio thine enemy?
l302l	Beatrice	Is a not approved in the height a villain, that
l303l		hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?
l304l		O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until
l305l		they come to take hands, and then with public
l306l		accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour—
l307l		O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the
l308l		market place.
l309l	Benedick	Hear me, Beatrice.
l310l	Beatrice	Talk with a man out at a window—a proper
l311l		saying!
l312l	Benedick	Nay, but Beatrice.
l313l	Beatrice	Sweet Hero, she is wronged, she is slandered,
l314l		she is undone.
l315l	Benedick	Beat—
l316l	Beatrice	Princes and counties! Surely a princely testimony,
l317l		a goodly count, Count Comfit, a sweet gallant,
l318l		surely. O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had
l319l		any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood
l320l		is melted into courtesies, valour into compliment, and
l321l		men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
l322l		He is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie
l323l		and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore
l324l		I will die a woman with grieving.
l325l	Benedick	Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
l326l	Beatrice	Use it for my love some other way than swearing
l327l		by it.
l328l	Benedick	Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath
l329l		wronged Hero?
l330l	Beatrice	Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.
l331l	Benedick	Enough, I am engaged, I will challenge him. I
l332l		will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand,
l333l		Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you hear
l334l		of me, so think of me. Go comfort your cousin. I must
l335l		say she is dead. And so, farewell.
		(Exeunt)