Escolar Documentos
Profissional Documentos
Cultura Documentos
Project Gutenberg
P. O. Box 2782
Champaign, IL 61825
You can visit our web site at promo.net for complete information
about Project Gutenberg.
******
1. LICENSE
4. WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine readable form. The Project gratefully accepts
contributions in money, time, scanning machines, OCR software,
public domain etexts, royalty free copyright licenses, and
whatever else you can think of. Money should be paid to "Pro-
ject Gutenberg Association / Carnegie Mellon University".
1599
by William Shakespeare
Dramatis Personae
SCENE.--Messina.
ACT I. Scene I.
An orchard before Leonato's house.
Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet your trouble?
The
fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.
Leon. 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.
Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is
your
daughter.
Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so.
Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you ask'd her?
Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
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.
Bene. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his
head
on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.
Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior
Benedick.
Nobody marks you.
Bene. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
Beat. 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.
Bene. 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.
Beat. 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.
Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some
gentleman
or other shall scape a predestinate scratch'd face.
Beat. Scratching could not make it worse an 'twere such a face
as
yours were.
Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
Beat. A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so
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. 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 heartly prays
Enter [at one door] Leonato and [at another door, Antonio] an old
man,
brother to Leonato.
[To the Son] Cousin, you know what you have to do.
--[To the Musician] O, I cry you mercy, friend. Go you with
me,
and I will use your skill.--Good cousin, have a care this
busy
time. Exeunt.
Scene III.
Another room in Leonato's house.]
Con. What the goodyear, my lord! Why are you thus out of
measure
sad?
John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds;
therefore
the sadness is without limit.
Con. You should hear reason.
John. And when I have heard it, what blessings brings it?
Con. If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
John. I wonder that thou (being, as thou say'st thou art, born
under Saturn) goest about to apply a moral medicine to a
mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad
when
I have cause, and smile at no man's jests; eat when I have
stomach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am
drowsy,
and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and
claw no
man in his humour.
Con. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this till you
may
do it without controlment. You have of late stood out against
your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace,
where
it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair
weather that you make yourself. It is needful that you frame
the
season for your own harvest.
John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his
grace,
and it better fits my blood to be disdain'd of all than to
fashion a carriage to rob love from any. In this, though I
cannot
be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied
but
I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and
enfranchis'd with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to
sing in
my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my
liberty, I
would do my liking. In the meantime let me be that I am, and
seek
not to alter me.
Con. Can you make no use of your discontent?
John. I make all use of it, for I use it only.
Enter Borachio.
Pedro. Now, signior, where's the Count? Did you see him?
Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame, I
found
him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren. I told him,
and I
think I told him true, that your Grace had got the good will
of
this young lady, and I off'red him my company to a willow
tree,
either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind
him
up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt.
Pedro. To be whipt? What's his fault?
Bene. The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being
overjoyed
with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he
steals
it.
Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The
transgression is
in the stealer.
Bene. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the
garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and
the
rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have
stol'n
his bird's nest.
Pedro. I will but teach them to sing and restore them to the
owner.
Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say
honestly.
Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The gentleman
that
danc'd with her told her she is much wrong'd by you.
Bene. O, she misus'd me past the endurance of a block! An oak
but
with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very
visor
began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not
thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester,
that
I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with
such
impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a
mark,
with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and
every
word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her
terminations,
there were no living near her; she would infect to the North
Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all
that
Adam had left him before he transgress'd. She would have made
Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to
make
the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the
infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar
would
conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live
as
quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose,
because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet,
horror,
and perturbation follows her.
Scene II.
A hall in Leonato's house.
Scene III.
Leonato's orchard.
Bene. Boy!
[Enter Boy.]
Boy. Signior?
Bene. In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it hither to me
in
the orchard.
Boy. I am here already, sir.
Bene. I know that, but I would have thee hence and here again.
(Exit Boy.) I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much
another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to
love,
will, after he hath laugh'd at such shallow follies in
others,
become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love; and
such
a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with
him
but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the
tabor
and the pipe. I have known when he would have walk'd ten mile
afoot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights
awake
carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak
plain
and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now
is
he turn'd orthography; his words are a very fantastical
banquet--
just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see
with
these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn
but
love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on
it,
till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such
a
fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet
I am
well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be
in
one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she
shall
be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll
never
cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come
not
near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an
excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it
please God. Ha, the Prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me
in
the arbour. [Hides.]
Enter Beatrice.
[Enter Beatrice.]
Now begin;
For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
Scene II.
A room in Leonato's house.
Scene IV.
A Room in Leonato's house.
Enter Beatrice.
Enter Ursula.
Scene V.
The hall in Leonato's house.
[Enter a Messenger.]
Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her
husband.
Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready.
[Exeunt Leonato and Messenger.]
Dog. Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacoal; bid him
bring
his pen and inkhorn to the jail. We are now to examination
these
men.
Verg. And we must do it wisely.
Dog. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. Here's that shall
ACT V. Scene I.
The street, near Leonato's house.
Enter Benedick.
Scene II.
Leonato's orchard.
Enter Beatrice.
Enter Ursula.
Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's old coil at
home.
It is proved my Lady Hero hath been falsely accus'd, the
Prince
and Claudio mightily abus'd, and Don John is the author of
all,
who is fled and gone. Will you come presently?
Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?
Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried
thy
eyes; and moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's.
Exeunt.
Scene III.
A churchyard.
Epitaph.
Song.
Scene IV
The hall in Leonato's house.
Enter Messenger.
THE END