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པ་༧༠/༦བ/༠༧༠/་པོ༅]པེ॰)༠)D༠/༠༠/༧༧༧༠༠)ད༠/༣༧༧//༧)༧G//༠༠/༧/༠༧༠༥༧༧༡༥༠ ༠/༥༠༠/༥O

Much Ado about Nothing.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Leonato, Innogen, Hero and Beatrice, with a Mffenger.

LEONATO.

arn in this Letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this Night to Messina.

Meff. He is very near by this; he was not three Leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many Gentlemen have you loft

in this Action?

Meff. But few of any fort, and none of Name.

Leon. A Victory is twice it felf,when the Atchiever brings home full number; I find here that Don Pedro hath beftowed much Honour on a young Florentine, call'd Claudio.

Meff. Much deferv'd on his Part, and equally remembred by Don Pedro, he hath born himself beyond the Promife of his Age, doing in the Figure of a Lamb, the Feats of a Lion, he hath indeed better better'd Expectation, than you muft expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He hath an Uncle here in Melfina will be very much glad of it.

Meff. I have already delivered him Letters, and there appers much Joy in him, even fo much, that Joy could not fhew it felf modeft enough, without a Badge of Bitterness. Leon. Did he break out into Tears?

Meff. In great measure.

VOL. I.

.Y 2

Leon.

Leon. A kind overflow of Kindness; there are no Faces truer, than those that are so wash'd; how much better is it to weep at Joy, than to joy at Weeping?

Beat. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the Wars, or no?

Meff. I know none of that Name Lady, there was none fuch in the Army of any fort.

Leon. What it he that you ask for, Neice?

Hero. My Coufin means Signior Benedick of Padua. Meff. O he is return'd, and as pleasant as ever he was. Beat. He fet up his Bills here in Messina, and challeng'd Cupid at the flight? and my Uncle's Fool reading the Challeage, fubfcrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in thefe Wars? But how many bath he kill'd? for indeed I promise to eat all of his killing.

Leon. 'Faith, Neice, you tax Signior Benedick too much, but he'll meet with you, I doubt pot.

Meff. He hath done good Service, Lady, in those Wars. Beat. You had musty Victuals, and he hath holp to eat it; he's a very valiant Trencher-man, he hath an excellent Stomach. Meff. And a good Soldier too, Lady.

Beat. And a good Soldier to a Lady: But what is he to a Lord?

Meff. A Lord to a Lord, a Man to a Man, ftuft with all honourable Virtues.

Beat. It is fo indeed, he is no less than a stuft Man: but for the ftuffing well; we are all Mortal.

Leon. You muft not, Sir, mistake my Neice; there is a kind of merry War betwixt Signior Benedick and her; they never meet, but there is a Skirmish of Wit between them.

Bear. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our laft Constic, four of his five Wits went halting off, and now is the whole Man govern'd with one: So that if he have Wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himfelf and his Horfe. 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 fworn Brother. Meff. Is it poffible?

Beat. Very eafily poffible; he wears his Faith but as thè fashion of his Hat, it ever changes with the next Block.

Mell

Meff. I fee, Lady, the Gentleman is not in your Book. Beat. No, and 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? Melf. He is moft in the Company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. Lord, he will hang upon him like a Difeafe; he is fooner caught than the Peftilence, and the taker runs prefently mad. God help the noble Claudio, if he have caught the Benedick, it will coft him a thousand pound e'er it be cur'd.

Me. I will hold Friends with you, Lady.

Beat. Do good Friend.

Leon. You'll ne'er run mad, Neice.

Beat. No, not 'till a hot January.

Meff. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar and
Don John.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: The fashion of the World is to avoid Coft, and you encounter it.

of

Leon. Never came Trouble to my House in the likeness your Grace; for, the Trouble being gone, Comfort should remain; But when you depart from me, Sorrow abides, and Happiness takes his Leave,

Pedro. You embrace your Chage moft willingly: I think this is your Daughter.

Leon. Her Mother hath many times told me fo.
Bene. Were you in doubt, that you askt her?

Leon. Signior Benedick, no, for then were you a Child. Pedro. You have it full Benedick, we may guefs by this what

you are, being a Man, truly the Lady Fathers her felf; be happy, Lady, for you are like an honourable Father.

Bene. If Signior Leonato be her Father, fhe would not have his Head on her Shoulders for all Melfina, as like him

as he is.

Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick, no Body marks you.

Bene. What my dear Lady Difdain! are you yet living?

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Beat. Is it poffible Difdain fhould die, while fhe hath such meet Food to feed it, as Signior Benedick? Courtefie it felf must convert to Difdain, if you come in her Prefence.

Bene. Then is Courtefie a Turn-coat, but it is certain I am lov'd of all Ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my Heart that I had not an hard Heart, for truly I love none.

Beat. A dear Happiness to Women, they would elfe have been troubled with a pernicious Sutor. 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 fwear he loves me.

Bene. God keep your Ladifhip ftill in that Mind, fo fome Gentleman or other fhall fcape a predeftinate fcratcht Face. Beat. Scratching could not make it worfe, an 'twere fuch a Face as yours were.

Bene. Well you are a rare Parrat Teacher.

Beat. A Bird of my Tongue, is better than a Beast of yours.

Bee. I would my Horfe had the fpeed of your Tongue, and fo good a Continuer; but keep your way a God's Name, I have done.

Beat. You always end with a Jade's Trick, I know you of old.

Pedro. This is the fum of all: Leonato, Signior Claudio, and Signior Benedick; my dear Friend Leonato hath invited you all, I tell you we fhall ftay here at the leaft a Month, and he heartily prays fome Occafion may detain us longer: I dare fwear he is no Hypocrite, but prays from his Heart.

Leon. If you fwear, my Lord, you shall not be forfworn; let me bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled to the Prince your Brother; I owe you all Duty.

John. I thank you, I am not of many Words, but I thank

you.

Leon. Pleafe it your Grace lead on?

Pedro. Your Hand Leonato, we will go together.

[Exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio. Cland. Benedick, didft thou note the Daughter of Signior Leonato.

Bene. I noted her not, but I look'd on her.
Cland. Is the not a modeft young Lady?

Bene.

་།

་་

Bene. Do you queftion me as an honeft Man fhould do, for my fimple true Judgment? Or would you have me fpeak after my Cuftom, as being a profeffed Tyrant to their Sex? Claud. No, I prithee fpeak in fober Judgment.

Bene. Why i'faith methinks he's too low for an high Praife, too brown for a fair Praife, and too little for a great Praife; only this Commendation I can afford her, that were fhe other than fhe is, he were unhandfome; and being no other but as the is, I do not like her.

Claud. Thou thinkft I am in fport, I pray thee tell me truly how thou lik'ft her.

Bene. Would you buy her, that you enquire after her?
Cland. Can the World buy fuch a Jewel?

Bene. Yea, and a Cafe to put it into; but fpeak you this with a fad 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 fhall a Man take you to go in the Song?

Claud. In mine Eye, she is the sweetest Lady that ever I lookt on.

Bene. I can fee yet without Spectacles, and I fee no fuch Matter: There's her Coufin, an fhe were not poffeft with a Fury, exceeds her as much in Beauty, as the firft of May doth the last of December: But I hope you have no intent to turn Husband, have you?

Claud. I would fcarce truft my felf, tho' I had fworn the contrary, if Hero would be my Wife.

Bene. Is't come to this; In Faith hath not the World one Man, but he will wear his Cap with Sufpicion? Shall I never fee a Batchelor of threefcore again? Go to i'faith, and thou wilt needs thruft thy Neck into a Yoke, wear the print of it, and figh away Sundays: Look, Don Pedro is return'd to feek you.

Enter Don Pedro and Don John.

Pedro. What Secret hath held you here, that you follow'd

not to Leonato?

Bene. I would your Grace would constrain me to tell.
Pedro. I charge thee on thy Allegiance.

my Alle

Bene. You hear, Count Claudio, I cannot be fecret as a dumb man, I would have you think fo (but on giance, mark you this, on my Allegiance) he is in

Y 4

love, with

whom?

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