The Bodleian First Folio

Much adoe about Nothing.

married, they would talke themselues madde.

Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to

Church ?

To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches,

till Loue haue all his rites.

Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is

hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue

all things answer minde.

Come, you shake the head at so long a brea­

thing, but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe

dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Her­ cules labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the

Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th'one with

th'other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not

but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assi­

stance as I shall giue you direction.

My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee

ten nights watchings.

And I my Lord.

And you to gentle Hero?

I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe

my cosin to a good husband.

And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband

that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble

straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will

teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall

in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will

so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke

wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with

Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Ar­

cher, his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely loue­

gods, goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift.

It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daugh­

ter of Leonato.

Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it.

Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be

medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and

whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly

with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage?

Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no

dishonesty shall appeare in me.

Shew me breefely how.

I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how

much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentle­

woman to Hero.

I remember.

I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night,

appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window.

What life is in that, to be the death of this mar­

riage?

The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe

you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that

hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned

Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a

contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.

What proofe shall I make of that?

Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe

Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for a­

ny other issue?

Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any

thing.

Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on

Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you

know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both

to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers

honor who hath made this match) and his friends repu­

tation, who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance

of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarce­

ly beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which

shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her

chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare

Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this

the very night before the intended wedding, for in the

meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall

be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of

Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance,

and all the preparation ouerthrowne.

Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will

put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and

thy fee is a thousand ducats.

Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cun­

ning shall not shame me.

I will presentlie goe learne their day of marri­

age.

Boy.

Signior.

In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it

hither to me in the orchard.

I am heere already sir.

I know that, but I would haue thee hence, and

heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing

how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his

behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such

shallow follies in others, become the argument of his

owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio,

I haue known when there was no musicke with him but

the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the

taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue

walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will

he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dub­

let: he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like

an honest man & a souldier) and now is he tur n'd ortho­

graphy, his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so

many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with

these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee

sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile

take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he

shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet

I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertu­

ous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman,

one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall

be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile ne­

uer cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde,

or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of

good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal

be of what colour it please God, hah ! the Prince and

Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor.