Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Pedro. To be whipt! what's his fault?

Bene. The flat tranfgreffion of a school-boy; who, being over-joy'd with finding a bird's neft, fhews it his. companion, and he steals it.

Pedro. Wilt thou make a truft, a tranfgreffion? the tranfgreffion is in the stealer.

Bene. Yet it had not been amifs, the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have beftow'd on you, who (as I take it) have ftol'n his bird's nest.

Pedro. I will but teach them to fing, and restore them to the owner.

Bene. If their finging anfwer your faying, by my faith, you fay honeftly.

Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman, that danc'd with her, told her fhe is much wrong'd by you.

Bene. O, fhe mifus'd me paft the indurance of a block; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answer'd her; my very vifor began to affume life, and fcold with her; he told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jefter, and that I was duller than a great thaw; (7) hudling jest upon jeft, with fuch impaffable conveyance upon me, that I flood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me; fhe fpeaks Ponyards, and every word stabs; if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, fhe would infect to the NorthStar; I would not marry her, though the were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'd; she would have made Hercules have turn'd fpit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her, you shall find her the infernal Até in good

(7) budling jest upon jeft, with fuch impoffible conveyance upor me] Thus all the printed copies; but Í freely confefs, I can't poffibly understand the phrafe. I have ventur'd to fubftitute impaffable. To make a Pafs (in Fencing,) is, to thrust, pufh: and by impaffable, I prefume, the poet meant, that the pufh'd her jefts upon him withfuch Swiftnefs, that it was impoffible for him to pass them off, to parry them.

apparel.

apparel. I would to God, fome fcholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while fhe is here a man may live as quiet in hell as in a fanctuary, and people in upon purpose, because they would go thither; to, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her.

Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero. Pedro. Look, here he comes.

Bene. Will your Grace command me any fervice to the world's end? I will go on the flighteft errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devife to fend me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the farthest inch of Afia; bring you the length of Prefter John's foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any ambaffage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy; you have no employment for me?

Pedro. None, but to defire your good company. Bene. O God, Sir, here's a dish I love not. I cannot indure this Lady Tongue.

[Exit. Pedro. Come, Lady, come; you have loft the heart of Signior Benedick.

I

Beat. Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and gave him ufe for it, a double heart for a fingle one; marry, once before he won it of me with falfe dice, therefore your Grace may well fay, I have loft it.

Pedro. You have put him down, Lady, you have put

him down.

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, left Ifhould prove the mother of fools: I have brought Count Claudio, whom you fent me to seek.

Pedro. Why, how now, Count, wherefore are you fad?
Claud. Not fad, my Lord.

Pedro. How then? fick?
Claud. Neither, my Lord.

Beat. The Count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well; but civil, Count, civil as an orange, and fomething of that jealous complexion.

Pedro. I'faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe. VOL. II.

B

Here

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 fay, Amen, to it.

Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue.

Claud. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy; I were but little happy, if I could fay how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you, and doat upon the exchange.

Beat. Speak, Coufin, or (if you cannot) ftop his ́ mouth with a kifs, and let him not 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 fide of care; my coufin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.

Claud. And fo fhe doth, coufin.

Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd; I may fit 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 coftly to wear every day but, I befeech your Grace, pardon me, I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.

Pedro. Your filence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of queftion, you were born in a merry hour.

Beat. No, fure, my Lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a ftar danc'd, and under that I was bora. Coufins, God give you joy.

of?

Leon. Niece, will you look to thofe things I told you

4

Beat.

Beat. I cry you mercy, Uncle: by your Grace's pardon. [Exit Beatrice. Pedro. By my troth, a pleafant-fpirited Lady.

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my Lord; fhe is never fad but when the fleeps, and not ever fad then; (8) for I have heard my daughter fay, the hath often dream'd of an happinefs, and wak'd herfelf with laughing.

Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. Leon. O, by no means, fhe mocks all her wooers out of fuit.

Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themselves mad.

Pedro. Count 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 fon, which is hence a juft seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things anfwer my mind.

Pedro. Come, you shake the head at fo 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's labours, which is to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other; I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not to fashion it, if you three will but minister fuch affistance as I fhall give you direction.

Leon. My Lord, I am for you, though it coft me ten nights watchings.

Claud. And I, my Lord.

Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

(8) For I have heard my daughter fay, the bath often dream'd of unhappiness, and wak'd herself with laughing.] Tho' all the impreffions agree in this reading, furely, 'tis abfolutely repugnant to what Leonato intends to fay, which is this; " Beatrice is never fad, but when the "leeps; and not ever fad then; for he hath often dream'd of fomething marry, (an happiness, as the poet phrases it,) and wak'dď herfelf with laughing."

B 2

Hero.

Hero. I will do any modeft office, my Lord, to help my Coufin to a good husband.

Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefulleft husband that I know: thus far I can praife him, he is of a noble ftrain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honefty. I will teach you how to humour your Coufin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I with your two helps, will fo practise on Benedick, that in defpight of his quick wit, and his queafy ftomach, he fhall fall in love with Beatrice: if we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer, his glory fhall be ours, for we are the only Love Gods ; go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to another Apartment in Leonato's House.

Enter Don John and Borachio.

John. T is fo, the Count Claudio fhall marry the John. Daughter of Leonato. "Daughter of

Bora. Yea, my Lord, but I can cross it.

John. Any bar, any crofs, any impediment will be medicinable to me; I am fick in difpleafure to him and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou crofs this marriage? Bora. Not honeftly, my Lord, but fo covertly that no difhonefty fhall appear in me.

John. Shew me briefly how.

Bora. I think, I told your lordship a year fince, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waitinggentlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bora. I can, at any unfeasonable inftant of the night, -appoint her to look out at her Lady's chamber-window. John. What life is in That, to be the death of this marriage?

Bora. The poifon of That lies in you to temper; go you to the Prince your brother, fpare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his Honour in marrying the re

nown'd

« ZurückWeiter »