Reading Help MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
am `
` merry. Yea, but so I am apt to do myself wrong. I am not so `
` reputed. It is the base (though bitter) disposition of `
` Beatrice `
` that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. `
` Well, `
` I'll be revenged as I may. `
` `
` Enter Don Pedro. `
` `
` Pedro. Now, signior, where's the Count? Did you see him? `
` Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame, I `
` found `
` him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren. I told him, `
` and I `
` think I told him true, that your Grace had got the good will `
` of `
` this young lady, and I off'red him my company to a willow `
` tree, `
` either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind `
` him `
` up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt. `
` Pedro. To be whipt? What's his fault? `
` Bene. The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being `
` overjoyed `
` with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he `
` steals `
` it. `
` Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The `
` transgression is `
` in the stealer. `
` Bene. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the `
` garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and `
` the `
` rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have `
` stol'n `
` his bird's 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 quarrel to you. The gentleman `
` that `
` danc'd with her told her she is much wrong'd by you. `
` Bene. O, she misus'd me past the endurance of a block! An oak `
` but `
` with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very `
` visor `
` began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not `
` thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, `
` that `
` I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with `
` such `
` impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a `
` mark, `
` with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and `
` every `
` word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her `
` terminations, `
` there were no living near her; she would infect to the North `
` Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all `
` that `
` Adam had left him before he transgress'd. She would have made `
` Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to `
` make `
` the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the `
` infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar `
` would `
` conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live `
` as `
` quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, `
` because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet, `
` horror, `
` and perturbation follows her. `
` `
` Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero. `
` `
` Pedro. Look, here she comes. `
` Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's `
` end? I `
` will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you `
` can `
` devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from `
` the `
` furthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's `
` foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any `
` embassage to the Pygmies--rather than hold three words' `
` conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me? `
` Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. `
` Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not! I cannot endure my `
` Lady `
` Tongue. [Exit.] `
` Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior `
` Benedick. `
` Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gave him use `
` for `
` it--a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he `
` won `
` it of me with false dice; therefore your Grace may well say I `
` have lost it. `
` Pedro. You have put him down, lady; you have put him down. `
` Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should `
` prove `
` the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you `
` sent `
` me to seek. `
` Pedro. Why, how now, Count? Wherefore are you sad? `
` Claud. Not sad, my lord. `
` Pedro. How then? sick? `
` Claud. Neither, my lord. `
` Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; `
` but `
` civil count--civil as an orange, and something of that `
` jealous `
` complexion. `
` Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though `
` I'll `
` be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I `
` have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won. I have broke `
` with `
` her father, and his good will obtained. Name the day of `
` marriage, `
` and God give thee joy! `
` Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. `
` His `
` Grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it! `
` Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue. `
` Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but `
` little `
` happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am `
` yours. `
` I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange. `
` Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a `
` kiss `
` and let not him speak neither. `
` Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. `
` Beat. Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the `
` windy `
` side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in `
` her `
` heart. `
` Claud. And so she doth, cousin. `
` Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world `
` but `
` I, and I am sunburnt. 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 have one of your father's getting. Hath `
` your `
` Grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent `
` husbands, if a maid could come by them. `
` Pedro. Will you have me, lady? `
` Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working `
` days: `
` your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But I beseech `
` your `
` Grace pardon me. I was born to speak all mirth and no matter. `
` Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best `
` becomes `
` you, for out o' question you were born in a merry hour. `
` Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a `
` star `
` danc'd, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy! `
` Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? `
` Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle, By your Grace's pardon. Exit. `
` Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. `
` Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord. `
` She `
` is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for `
` I `
` have heard my daughter say she hath often dreamt of `
` unhappiness `
` and wak'd herself with laughing. `
` Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. `
` Leon. O, by no means! She mocks all her wooers out of suit. `
` Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. `
` Leon. O Lord, my lord! if they were but a week married, they `
` would `
` talk themselves mad. `
` Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? `
` Claud. To-morrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have `
` all `
` his rites. `
` Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just `
` sevennight; and a time too brief too, to have all things `
` answer `
` my mind. `
` Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; `
` but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by `
` us. `
` I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours, `
` which `
` is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a `
` mountain of affection th' one with th' other. I would fain `
` have `
` it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it if you three `
` will `
` but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. `
` Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' `
` watchings. `
`
` merry. Yea, but so I am apt to do myself wrong. I am not so `
` reputed. It is the base (though bitter) disposition of `
` Beatrice `
` that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. `
` Well, `
` I'll be revenged as I may. `
` `
` Enter Don Pedro. `
` `
` Pedro. Now, signior, where's the Count? Did you see him? `
` Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame, I `
` found `
` him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren. I told him, `
` and I `
` think I told him true, that your Grace had got the good will `
` of `
` this young lady, and I off'red him my company to a willow `
` tree, `
` either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind `
` him `
` up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt. `
` Pedro. To be whipt? What's his fault? `
` Bene. The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being `
` overjoyed `
` with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he `
` steals `
` it. `
` Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The `
` transgression is `
` in the stealer. `
` Bene. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the `
` garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and `
` the `
` rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have `
` stol'n `
` his bird's 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 quarrel to you. The gentleman `
` that `
` danc'd with her told her she is much wrong'd by you. `
` Bene. O, she misus'd me past the endurance of a block! An oak `
` but `
` with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very `
` visor `
` began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not `
` thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, `
` that `
` I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with `
` such `
` impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a `
` mark, `
` with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and `
` every `
` word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her `
` terminations, `
` there were no living near her; she would infect to the North `
` Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all `
` that `
` Adam had left him before he transgress'd. She would have made `
` Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to `
` make `
` the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the `
` infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar `
` would `
` conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live `
` as `
` quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, `
` because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet, `
` horror, `
` and perturbation follows her. `
` `
` Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero. `
` `
` Pedro. Look, here she comes. `
` Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's `
` end? I `
` will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you `
` can `
` devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from `
` the `
` furthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's `
` foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any `
` embassage to the Pygmies--rather than hold three words' `
` conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me? `
` Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. `
` Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not! I cannot endure my `
` Lady `
` Tongue. [Exit.] `
` Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior `
` Benedick. `
` Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gave him use `
` for `
` it--a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he `
` won `
` it of me with false dice; therefore your Grace may well say I `
` have lost it. `
` Pedro. You have put him down, lady; you have put him down. `
` Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should `
` prove `
` the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you `
` sent `
` me to seek. `
` Pedro. Why, how now, Count? Wherefore are you sad? `
` Claud. Not sad, my lord. `
` Pedro. How then? sick? `
` Claud. Neither, my lord. `
` Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; `
` but `
` civil count--civil as an orange, and something of that `
` jealous `
` complexion. `
` Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though `
` I'll `
` be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I `
` have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won. I have broke `
` with `
` her father, and his good will obtained. Name the day of `
` marriage, `
` and God give thee joy! `
` Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. `
` His `
` Grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it! `
` Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue. `
` Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but `
` little `
` happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am `
` yours. `
` I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange. `
` Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a `
` kiss `
` and let not him speak neither. `
` Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. `
` Beat. Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the `
` windy `
` side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in `
` her `
` heart. `
` Claud. And so she doth, cousin. `
` Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world `
` but `
` I, and I am sunburnt. 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 have one of your father's getting. Hath `
` your `
` Grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent `
` husbands, if a maid could come by them. `
` Pedro. Will you have me, lady? `
` Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working `
` days: `
` your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But I beseech `
` your `
` Grace pardon me. I was born to speak all mirth and no matter. `
` Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best `
` becomes `
` you, for out o' question you were born in a merry hour. `
` Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a `
` star `
` danc'd, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy! `
` Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? `
` Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle, By your Grace's pardon. Exit. `
` Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. `
` Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord. `
` She `
` is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for `
` I `
` have heard my daughter say she hath often dreamt of `
` unhappiness `
` and wak'd herself with laughing. `
` Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. `
` Leon. O, by no means! She mocks all her wooers out of suit. `
` Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. `
` Leon. O Lord, my lord! if they were but a week married, they `
` would `
` talk themselves mad. `
` Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? `
` Claud. To-morrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have `
` all `
` his rites. `
` Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just `
` sevennight; and a time too brief too, to have all things `
` answer `
` my mind. `
` Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; `
` but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by `
` us. `
` I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours, `
` which `
` is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a `
` mountain of affection th' one with th' other. I would fain `
` have `
` it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it if you three `
` will `
` but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. `
` Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights' `
` watchings. `
`