Much Ado About Nothing By William Shakespeare

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Much Ado About Nothing

William Shakespeare

Published: 1600

Categorie(s): Fiction, Drama, Romance

Source: http://shakespeare.mit.edu/ About Shakespeare:

William Shakespeare (baptised 26 April 1564 – died 23 April 1616) was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon" (or simply "The Bard"). His surviving works consist of 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and several other poems. His plays have been translated into every major living language, and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon. At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway, who bore him three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Between 1585 and 1592 he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men. He appears to have retired to Stratford around 1613, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive, and there has been considerable speculation about such matters as his sexuality, religious beliefs, and whether the works attributed to him were written by others. Shakespeare produced most of his known work between 1590 and 1613. His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century. Next he wrote mainly tragedies until about 1608, including Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth, considered some of the finest examples in the English language. In his last phase, he wrote tragicomedies, also known as romances, and collaborated with other playwrights. Many of his plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime, and in 1623 two of his former theatrical colleagues published the First Folio, a collected edition of his dramatic works that included all but two of the plays now recognised as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare was a respected poet and playwright in his own day, but his reputation did not rise to its present heights until the nineteenth century. The Romantics, in particular, acclaimed Shakespeare's genius, and the Victorians hero-worshipped Shakespeare with a reverence that George Bernard Shaw called "bardolatry". In the twentieth century, his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. His plays remain highly popular today and are consistently performed and reinterpreted in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world. Source: Wikipedia

Also available on Feedbooks Shakespeare:

- Romeo and Juliet (1597)

- Hamlet (1599)

- Macbeth (1606)

- A Midsummer Night's Dream (1596)

- Julius Caesar (1599)

- Othello (1603)

- The Merchant of Venice (1598)

- King Lear (1606)

- The Taming of the Shrew (1594)

- The Comedy of Errors (1594)

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Act I

SCENE I. Before LEONATO'S house.

> Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a Messenger

LEONATO

> I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon

> comes this night to Messina.

Messenger

> He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off

> when I left him.

LEONATO

> How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

Messenger

> But few of any sort, and none of name.

LEONATO

> A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings

> home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath

> bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.

Messenger

> Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by

> Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the

> promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb,

> the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better

> bettered expectation than you must expect of me to

> tell you how.

LEONATO

> He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much

> glad of it.

Messenger

> I have already delivered him letters, and there

> appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could

> not show itself modest enough without a badge of

> bitterness.

LEONATO

> Did he break out into tears?

Messenger

> In great measure.

LEONATO

> A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces

> truer than those that are so washed. How much

> better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!

BEATRICE

> I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the

> wars or no?

Messenger

> I know none of that name, lady: there was none such

> in the army of any sort.

LEONATO

> What is he that you ask for, niece?

HERO

> My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.

Messenger

> O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.

BEATRICE

> He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged

> Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading

> the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged

> him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he

> killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath

> he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing.

LEONATO

> Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much;

> but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Messenger

> He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

BEATRICE

> You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it:

> he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an

> excellent stomach.

Messenger

> And a good soldier too, lady.

BEATRICE

> And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord?

Messenger

> A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all

> honourable virtues.

BEATRICE

> It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man:

> but for the stuffing,—well, we are all mortal.

LEONATO

> You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a

> kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her:

> they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit

> between them.

BEATRICE

> Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last

> conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and

> now is the whole man governed with one: so that if

> he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him

> bear it for a difference between himself and his

> horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left,

> to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his

> companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.

Messenger

> Is't possible?

BEATRICE

> Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as

> the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the

> next block.

Messenger

> I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.

BEATRICE

> No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray

> you, who is his companion? Is there no young

> squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?

Messenger

> He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

BEATRICE

> O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he

> is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker

> runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if

> he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a

> thousand pound ere a' be cured.

Messenger

> I will hold friends with you, lady.

BEATRICE

> Do, good friend.

LEONATO

> You will never run mad, niece.

BEATRICE

> No, not till a hot January.

Messenger

> Don Pedro is approached.

>

> Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and BALTHASAR

DON PEDRO

> Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your

> trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid

> cost, and you encounter it.

LEONATO

> Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of

> your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should

> remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides

> and happiness takes his leave.

DON PEDRO

> You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this

> is your daughter.

LEONATO

> Her mother hath many times told me so.

BENEDICK

> Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?

LEONATO

> Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.

DON PEDRO

> You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this

> what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers

> herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an

> honourable father.

BENEDICK

> If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not

> have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as

> like him as she is.

BEATRICE

> I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior

> Benedick: nobody marks you.

BENEDICK

> What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?

BEATRICE

> Is it possible disdain should die while she hath

> such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?

> Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come

> in her presence.

BENEDICK

> Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I

> am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I

> would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard

> heart; for, truly, I love none.

BEATRICE

> A dear happiness to women: they would else have

> been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God

> and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I

> had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man

> swear he loves me.

BENEDICK

> God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some

> gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate

> scratched face.

BEATRICE

> Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such

> a face as yours were.

BENEDICK

> Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

BEATRICE

> A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

BENEDICK

> I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and

> so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's

> name; I have done.

BEATRICE

> You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.

DON PEDRO

> That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio

> and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath

> invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at

> the least a month; and he heartily prays some

> occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no

> hypocrite, but prays from his heart.

LEONATO

> If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.

>

> To DON JOHN

>

> Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to

> the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.

DON JOHN

> I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank

> you.

LEONATO

> Please it your grace lead on?

DON PEDRO

> Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.

>

> Exeunt all except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO

CLAUDIO

> Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?

BENEDICK

> I noted her not; but I looked on her.

CLAUDIO

> Is she not a modest young lady?

BENEDICK

> Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for

> my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak

> after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?

CLAUDIO

> No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.

BENEDICK

> Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high

> praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little

> for a great praise: only this commendation I can

> afford her, that were she other than she is, she

> were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I

> do not like her.

CLAUDIO

> Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me

> truly how thou likest her.

BENEDICK

> Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?

CLAUDIO

> Can the world buy such a jewel?

BENEDICK

> Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this

> with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack,

> to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a

> rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take

> you, to go in the song?

CLAUDIO

> In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I

> looked on.

BENEDICK

> I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such

> matter: there's her cousin, an she were not

> possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty

> as the first of May doth the last of December. But I

> hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?

CLAUDIO

> I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the

> contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

BENEDICK

> Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world

> one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?

> Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?

> Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck

> into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away

> Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you.

>

> Re-enter DON PEDRO

DON PEDRO

> What secret hath held you here, that you followed

> not to Leonato's?

BENEDICK

> I would your grace would constrain me to tell.

DON PEDRO

> I charge thee on thy allegiance.

BENEDICK

> You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb

> man; I would have you think so; but, on my

> allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is

> in love. With who? now that is your grace's part.

> Mark how short his answer is;—With Hero, Leonato's

> short daughter.

CLAUDIO

> If this were so, so were it uttered.

BENEDICK

> Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor

> 'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be

> so.'

CLAUDIO

> If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it

> should be otherwise.

DON PEDRO

> Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.

CLAUDIO

> You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.

DON PEDRO

> By my troth, I speak my thought.

CLAUDIO

> And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.

BENEDICK

> And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.

CLAUDIO

> That I love her, I feel.

DON PEDRO

> That she is worthy, I know.

BENEDICK

> That I neither feel how she should be loved nor

> know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that

> fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake.

DON PEDRO

> Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite

> of beauty.

CLAUDIO

> And never could maintain his part but in the force

> of his will.

BENEDICK

> That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she

> brought me up, I likewise give her most humble

> thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my

> forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,

> all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do

> them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the

> right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which

> I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.

DON PEDRO

> I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.

BENEDICK

> With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord,

> not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood

> with love than I will get again with drinking, pick

> out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me

> up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of

> blind Cupid.

DON PEDRO

> Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou

> wilt prove a notable argument.

BENEDICK

> If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot

> at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on

> the shoulder, and called Adam.

DON PEDRO

> Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull

> doth bear the yoke.'

BENEDICK

> The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible

> Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set

> them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted,

> and in such great letters as they write 'Here is

> good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign

> 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'

CLAUDIO

> If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.

DON PEDRO

> Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in

> Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.

BENEDICK

> I look for an earthquake too, then.

DON PEDRO

> Well, you temporize with the hours. In the

> meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to

> Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will

> not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made

> great preparation.

BENEDICK

> I have almost matter enough in me for such an

> embassage; and so I commit you—

CLAUDIO

> To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,—

DON PEDRO

> The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick.

BENEDICK

> Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your

> discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and

> the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere

> you flout old ends any further, examine your

> conscience: and so I leave you.

>

> Exit

CLAUDIO

> My liege, your highness now may do me good.

DON PEDRO

> My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,