Much Ado About Nothing | Page 9

may cry Amen.
MARGARET. God match me with a good dancer!
BALTHAZAR. Amen.
MARGARET. And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is
done! Answer, clerk.
BALTHAZAR. No more words: the clerk is answered.
URSULA. I know you well enough: you are Signior Antonio.
ANTONIO. At a word, I am not.
URSULA. I know you by the waggling of your head.
ANTONIO. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
URSULA. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the
very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: you are he, you are he.
ANTONIO. At a word, I am not.
URSULA. Come, come; do you think I do not know you by your
excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he: graces
will appear, and there's an end.
BEATRICE. Will you not tell me who told you so?
BENEDICK. No, you shall pardon me.
BEATRICE. Nor will you not tell me who you are?
BENEDICK. Not now.
BEATRICE. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of
the 'Hundred Merry Tales.' Well, this was Signior Benedick that said
so.
BENEDICK. What's he?
BEATRICE. I am sure you know him well enough.
BENEDICK. Not I, believe me.
BEATRICE. Did he never make you laugh?
BENEDICK. I pray you, what is he?

BEATRICE. Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool; only his
gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in
him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he
both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him and beat
him. I am sure he is in the fleet: I would he had boarded me!
BENEDICK. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say.
BEATRICE. Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which,
peradventure not marked or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy;
and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper
that night. [Music within.] We must follow the leaders.
BENEDICK. In every good thing.
BEATRICE. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next
turning.
[Dance. Then exeunt all but DON JOHN, BORACHIO, and
CLAUDIO.]
DON JOHN. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn
her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but one
visor remains.
BORACHIO. And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing.
DON JOHN. Are you not Signior Benedick?
CLAUDIO. You know me well; I am he.
DON JOHN. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is
enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her; she is no equal
for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it.
CLAUDIO. How know you he loves her?
DON JOHN. I heard him swear his affection.
BORACHIO. So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night.
DON JOHN. Come, let us to the banquet.
[Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO.]
CLAUDIO. Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear these ill
news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for
himself. Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and
affairs of love: herefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let
every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of
hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!
[Re-enter Benedick.]

BENEDICK. Count Claudio?
CLAUDIO. Yea, the same.
BENEDICK. Come, will you go with me?
CLAUDIO. Whither?
BENEDICK. Even to the next willow, about your own business, count.
What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like a
usurer's chain? or under your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must
wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero.
CLAUDIO. I wish him joy of her.
BENEDICK. Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they sell
bullocks. But did you think the prince would have served you thus?
CLAUDIO. I pray you, leave me.
BENEDICK. Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that
stole your meat, and you'll beat the post.
CLAUDIO. If it will not be, I'll leave you.
[Exit.]
BENEDICK. Alas! poor hurt fowl. Now will he creep into sedges. But,
that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The prince's
fool! Ha! it may be I go under that title because I 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