Great Performances

-Next on "Great Performances," it's a simple case of he said... -I will live a bachelor. -...she said. -He that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him! -...he said... -Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. -...she said... -I do. -...but a not-so-simple case of they said. -What was it you told me of today, that your niece, Beatrice, was in love with Signior Benedick? -Oh, aye! -Are you sure that Benedick loves Beatrice? -Ooh! -I came hither to tell you the lady is disloyal. -Hilarity, heartache, and love ensue under the stars with the Public Theater's Free Shakespeare In The Park presentation of the Bard's comedic masterpiece "Much Ado About Nothing." -Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. -There's a double meaning in that.

Indistinct talking

Cheers and applause

Cheers and applause

Mother, mother There's too many of you crying Mm, brother, brother, brother Far too many of you dying But we've got to find a way To bring some loving Some loving here today Picket lines And picket signs Don't punish me with brutality Come on, talk to me - Mm, talk to me - So that you can see Oh, what's going on - What's going on - Tell me, what's going on - What going on - Oh, what's going on - What's going on - Oh, what's going on - Oh, beautiful For spacious skies For amber waves of grain - Hmm, what's going on - For purple mountains - What's going on - Majesties - What's going on - Above the fruited plain - America - Oh oh whoa - America - Whoo - God, shed his grace on thee - What's going on - And crown thy good - What's going on - With brotherhood - What's going on - From sea to shining sea

Cheers and applause

-You showed up! -Yes! -I learned in this letter that Don Pedro of Aragon comes this night. -He was not three leagues off when I left him. -How many have you lost in this action? -But few of any sort. -I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on young Claudio! -Much deserved on his part. He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. -I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no? -I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in the army of any sort. -What is he that you ask for, niece? -My cousin means Signior Benedick. -Oh, he's returned and as pleasant as ever he was. -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 killings. -Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much. But he'll be meet with you! I doubt it not! -He hath done good service, lady, in these wars. -He is a very valiant trenchman. He hath an excellent stomach. -And a good soldier too, lady. -And a good soldier to a lady. But what is he to a lord? -A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed with all honorable virtue. -It is so indeed! He is no less than a stuffed man, but for the stuffing, well, we're all mortal. -You must not mistake my niece. There's a kind of merry war 'twixt Signior Benedick and her. They never meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them. -Mm-hmm. -Huh. -Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother. -'Tis possible. -Very easily possible. -I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. -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? -He is most in the company of the right, noble Claudio. -Oh, Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease. He is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker run presently mad! God, help the noble Claudio. -I will hold friends with you, lady. -Do, good friend. -Don Pedro is approached!

Car horn honks

- Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Company, halt! Right face! Huh! -Huh! -Huh! -Huh! -Aaaah! Oh, good Signior Leonato! Are you come to meet your trouble! The fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it! -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 abounds, and happiness takes his leave! -You embrace your charge too willingly! I think this is your daughter. -Her mother hath many times told me so. -Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? -Signior Benedick, no, for then were you a child. -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 honorable father. -If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders as like a man she is. -I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick! Nobody marks you! -What, my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living? -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. -Mm. -Then is courtesy a turncoat? But it is certain I am loved of all ladies... -Ha! -...only you excepted, and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none. -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 humor for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me. -Ooh, God, keep your ladyship still in that mind so some gentleman or other shall escape a predestined scratched face. -Scratching could not make it worse to such a face as yours were! -Oh! -Ooh! -Oh, come on! Get him! -Well, you are a rare parrot teacher. -Bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours. -I would my horse had the speed of your tongue and so good a continuer, but keep your ways. In God's name, I have done. -You always end with a jade's trick. I know you of old. -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. -Let me bid you welcome, my lord. Being reconciled to Don John, your brother, I owe you all duty. -I thank you. I am not of many words, but I thank you. -Please it, your grace, lead on. -Your hand, Leonato. We will go together.

Both laugh

-Go ahead. -Benedick, didst thousand note the daughter of Signior Leonato? -I noted her not, but I looked on her. -Is she not a modest young lady? -Do you question me as an honest man should do for my simple true judgement, or would you have me speak after my customs being a professed tyrant to their sex? -No, I pray thee speak in sober judgement. -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. -Thou thinkest I am in sport. I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her. -Would you buy her, that you inquire after her? -In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on. -I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter. There's her cousin, and 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? -I would scarce trust myself though I had sworn the contrary if Hero would be my wife. -It's come to this? Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again? Oh, go to in faith, and thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away Sundays! Look, Don Pedro has returned to seek you. -What secret hath held you here that you follow not to Leonato's? -I would your grace would constrain me to tell. -I charge thee on they allegiance. -You hear, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a dumb man. I would have you think so, but on my allegiance... -Yes. -...he is in love. With who? Hero, Leonato's daughter! -If this were so, so it were uttered. -Like the old tale, my lord, it is not so, nor it was not so, but indeed, God forbid it should be so. -If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise. -Amen if you love her for the lady is very well worthy. -You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. -By my troth, I speak my thought. -And in faith, my lord, I spoke mine. -And by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine. -That I love her, I feel. -That she is worthy, I know. -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. -Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty. -And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will. -That a woman conceived me, I thank her. That she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks, but 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. -Ah. -And the fine is, or the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor. -I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love. -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. -Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. 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. -And so I leave you. -My liege, your highness now may do me good. -My love is thine to teach. Teach it but how, and thou shalt see how apt it is to learn any hard lesson that may do thee good. -Hath Leonato any son, my lord? -No child but Hero. She's his only heir. Dost thou affect her, Claudio? -Oh, my lord. When you went onward on this ended action, I looked upon her with a soldier's eye that liked but had a rougher task in hand than to drive liking to the name of love, but now I am returned, and that war thoughts have left their places vacant, in their rooms come thronging soft and delicate desires all prompting me how fair young Hero is, saying I liked her ere I went to wars. -Thou wilt be like a lover presently and tire the hearer with a book of words. If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, and I will break with her and with her father, and thou shalt have her. Was it not to this end that thou beganest to twist so fine a story? -How sweetly you do minister to love that knows love's grief by its complexion, but lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would've salved it with a longer treatise. -Oh, I will fit thee with the remedy! I know. We shall have reveling tonight. I will assume thy part in some disguise and tell fair Hero I am Claudio, and in her bosom, I'll unclasp my heart and take her hearing prison with the force and strong encounter of my amorous tale. Then after to her father will I break, and the conclusion is, she shall be thine, huh? In practice let us put it presently.

Applause

-Brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet dreamt not of. -Are they good? -The prince and Count Claudio were thus much overheard by a man of mine. The prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my niece, your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if he found her accordant, he meant to instantly break with you of it. -Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? -A good, sharp fellow. I will send for him and question him yourself. -No, no. We will hold it as a dream till it appear itself, but I will acquaint my daughter with all that she may be the better prepared for an answer if peradventure this to be true! -My lord, why are you thus out of measure sad? -There is no measure in the occasion that breeds. Therefore, the sadness is without limit. -You should hear reason. -And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it? -If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance. -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. -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. -I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace! 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 enfranchised with a clog, therefore 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! -Can you make no use of your discontent? -I make all use of it for I use it only. Who comes here? What news, Borachio? -I came yonder from a great supper. The prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. -Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness? -Marry, it is your brother's right hand. -Who? The most exquisite Claudio? -Even he. -A proper squire. Which way looks he? -Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. -A very forward March-chick. How came you to this? -As I was smoking, comes me the prince and Claudio hand in hand in sad conference. I whipped me behind the arras, and there heard it agreed upon that the prince should woo Hero for himself and, having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio. -Come! Come! Let us thither. This may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow. If I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure and will assist me? -To the death, my lord. -Let us to the great supper. Shall we go prove what's to be done? -We'll wait upon your lordship.

Laughter

Indistinct talking

-Was not Count John here at supper? -I saw him not. -How tartly that gentleman looks. I never can see him, but I'm heart-burned an hour after. -He is of a very melancholy disposition. -He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick. The one is too like an image and says nothing and the other evermore tattling. -Then half Signior Benedick's tongue and Count John's mouth and half Count John's melancholy and Signior Benedick's face! -With a good leg and a good foot, Uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world if he could get her goodwill. -

Laughs

By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. -In faith, she's too cursed. -Too cursed is more than cursed. I shall lessen God's sending that way for it is said God send a cursed cow short horns, but to a cow too cursed, he send none. -So by being too cursed, God will send you no horns! -Just if he send me no husband for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening! Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woollen. -You may light on a husband that hath no beard! -What should I do with him? Dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man, and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him! Therefore, I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward and lead his apes into Hell. -Well, then go you into Hell? -No! But to the gate, and there will be the Devil meet me like an old cuckold with horns on his head and said, "Get you to heaven, Beatrice! Get you to heaven! Here is no place for you maids!" So deliver I up my apes and away to Saint Peter for the heavens. He shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long! -Well, niece! I trust you will be ruled by your father. -Yes, faith, it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say, "Father, as it please you." But for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fella, or else make another curtsy and say, "Father, as it please me." Okurrr!

Laughter

-Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband! -Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust? No, uncle, I'll none. Adam's sons are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. -Daughter, remember what I told you. If the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. -The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time! -Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly! -I have a good eye, uncle! I can see a church by daylight!

Indistinct shouting

-The revelers are entering!

Indistinct talking, laughter

- Let's take a chance and we can dance all night through Baby, me and you Let's see what happens, see what happens See what happens if we We make the magic, baby, we can make it happen maybe Let's take a chance, and we can dance all night through Baby, me and you -Lady, will you walk about with your friend? -So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing, I am yours for the walk, and especially when I walk away. -With me in your company? -I may say so when I please. -And when please you to say so? -When I like your favor. -Speak low if you speak love. -Well, I would you did like me. -So would not I for your own sake for I have many ill qualities. -Which is one? -I say my prayers aloud. -I love you the better. The hearers may cry, "Amen." -God match me with a good dancer. -Amen. -And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done. -No more words? - Let's see what happens, see what happens See what happens if we We make the magic, baby, we can make it happen maybe Let's take a chance, and we can dance all night long Baby, me and you -I know you well enough! You are Signior Antonio! -At a word, I am not. -I know you by the waggling of your head. -To tell you true, I counterfeit him. -You could never do him so ill well unless you are the very man! You are he! You are he! -At a word, I am not. -Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum! You are he! Graces will appear, and there's an end! -Will you not tell me who told you so? -No, you shall pardon me. -Nor will you not tell me who you are? -Ooh, not now. -That I was disdainful, well, this was Signior Benedick that said so. -What's he? -I'm sure you know him well enough. -Not I, believe me. -Did he never make you laugh? -I pray you, what is he? -Why, he's the prince's jester, a very dull fool. I'm sure he's in the fleet.

Giggles

-When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. -Do. Do. We must follow the leaders! -Hey! Let's see what happens, see what happens See what happens if we We make the magic, baby, we can make it happen maybe Let's take a chance, and we can dance all night through Baby, me and you -Hey, hey! - Let's take a chance, and we can dance all night through Baby, me and you Let's see what happens, see what happens See what happens

Cheers and applause

-Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her, and but one visor remains. -And that is Claudio. I know him by his bearing. -Are you not Signior Benedick? -You know me well. I am he. -Signior, you are very near my brother in his love. He is enamored on Hero. I pray you dissuade him from her. She is no equal for his birth. You may do the part of an honest man in it. -How know you he loves her? -I heard him swear his affection. -So did I, too, and swore he would marry her tonight. -Come, let us to the banquet. -Thus answer I in the name of Benedick but hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. Tis certain so the prince woos for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself and trust no agent for beauty is a witch against whose charms faith melteth into blood. Farewell therefore, Hero! -Count Claudio! -Yea, the same. -Come, will you go with me? -Whither? -Even to the next willow about your own business, county. What fashion will you wear the garland of, about your neck like an usurer's chain, under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way for the prince hath got your Hero! -I wish him joy of her. -But did you think the prince would've served you thus? -I pray you, leave me. -Ho-ho, now you strike like the blind man. -If it will not be, I'll leave you. -Clau-- Alas, poor hurt fowl! Now will he creep in the sedges. But that my Lady Beatrice should know me and not know me! The prince's fool, ha! It may be I go under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so am I apt to do myself wrong. I am not so reputed. It is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. -Now, signior, where's the count?! Did you see him? -

Coughs

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 goodwill of this young lady. -Ah! -And I offered 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 whipped. -To be whipped? What's his fault? -The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. -Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer. -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 stolen his birds' nest. -I will but teach them to sing and restore them to the owner. -If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. -Mm-hmm, the Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The gentleman that danced with her told her she is much wronged by you. -Oh, she misused me past the endurance of a block. She speaks poniards and every word stabs. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed. 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. -Oh, look. Here she comes. -Oh, will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on. I will fetch you a toothpick now from the furthest inch of Asia rather than hold three words conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me? -None... but to desire your good company. -Oh, God, sir! Here's a dish I love not. I cannot endure my Lady Tongue. -Come. Lady, come. -

Sighs

-You have lost the heart of Signior Benedick. -Indeed, my lord. He lent it me awhile, and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it. -You have put him down, lady. You have put him down! -I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. -Now come -- -I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. -Why, how now, count? Wherefore are you sad? -Not sad, my lord. -How then? Sick? -Neither, my lord. -The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well, but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of that

whispers

jealous complexion. -

Chuckles

Well, in faith, lady, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false! 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! -Count, take of me my daughter... and with her my fortunes. His grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it. -Amen.

Cheers and applause

Laughter

Cheers and applause

-Speak, count. 'Tis your cue. -Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.

Sighs

-Hootie hoo! Speak, cousin, or if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss and let not him speak neither. -In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. -Yea, my lord. I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart. -And so she doth, cousin. -Good Lord, for alliance. Thus goes everyone to the world but I. I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband. -Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. -I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father's got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. -Will you have me, lady? -Oh!

Grunting

No, my lord. Unless I may have another for working days. Your grace is too costly to wear every day, but I beseech your grace, pardon. I as born to speak all mirth and no matter.

Sighs deeply

-Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you, for out of question, you were born in a merry hour. -No, sure, my lord, my mother cried, and then there was a star danced, and under that was I born. Oh, cousin. God give you joy! -Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? -I cry you mercy, uncle.

Sighs

By your grace's pardon.

Sighs

-By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. -There is little of the melancholy element in her, my lord. She is never sad, but when she sleeps, not ever sad then, for I have heard my daughter say she hath often dreamt of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing. -She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. -Oh, by no means. She mocks all her wooers out of suit. -She were an excellent wife for Benedick. -Oh, lord -- My lord... If they were but a week married, they'd talk themselves mad. -County Claudio, when mean you to go to church? -Tomorrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches until love have all his rites. -Not until Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just sevennight, and a time too brief, too, to have all things answer my mind. -Come. You shake the head at so 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' labors, 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 but to fashion it if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. -My lord, I am for you, though it cost me 10 nights' watchings. -And I, my lord. -And you, too, gentle Hero? -I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. -And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him. He is of a noble strain, of approved valor and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humor your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick, and I, with your two helps, will so practice on Benedick that in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer. His glory shall be ours, for we are the only love gods.

Applause

Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift, huh? - Hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Indistinct shouting, laughter

-Hi. -Hey! I have been waiting for this moment. -For me? -All night. -

Clears throat

-

Giggles

-It is so! Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of Leonato. -Yea, my lord, but I can cross it. -Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me. I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage? -Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. -Show me briefly how. -I think I told your lordship a year since how much I am in the favor of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero. -I remember. -I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber window. -What life is in that to be the death of this marriage? -The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the prince, your brother. Spare not to tell him that he hath wronged his honor in marrying the renowned Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold up, to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero. -What proof shall I make of that? -Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue? -Only to despite them, I will endeavor anything. -Go then. Find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone. Tell them that you know that Hero loves me. Intend a kind of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as in love of your brother's honor, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial. Offer them instances which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber window. Hear me call Margaret Hero, and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the meantime, I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appear such seeming truth to Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called assurance and all the preparation overthrown. -Be cunning in the working this and thy fee is a thousand ducats. -Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me. -I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

Laughs

-I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love. Such a man is Claudio. He was won't to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier, and now is he turned orthography. His words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with these eyes? I think not. I cannot tell. I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster, but I'll take my oath on it. Till he hath 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 until 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 color it please God.

Laughs

- Na, na, na, na, na, na -Oh! The prince and Monsieur Love. I will hide me. - Na, na, na, na, na Before long, you feel your heart get happy Na, na, na, na, na -Come! Shall we hear this music? See you where Benedick hath hid himself? -Oh, very well, my lord. -Come. Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. -Oh, good, my lord, tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once. -It is the witness still of excellency to put a strange face on his own perfection. I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. -Because you talk of wooing, I will sing, since many a wooer doth commence his suit, to her, he thinks not worthy. Yet he woos, yet will he swear he loves. -Nay, pray thee, come, or if though wilt hold longer argument, do it in notes. -Note this before my notes. There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. -Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks! Note, notes, forsooth and nothing. - No, don't you cry, don't you cry no more You knew he was a liar He been had one foot in and the other foot out the door So why complain? It won't change his desire And you're getting tired You might want to cut your losses You might want to let him go - Pack up all your sad songs Trade them in for glad songs and sing - Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na - Before long, you feel your heart get happy Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Before long you feel your heart get happy No - Don't you waste, don't you waste those tears You knew that dude was playing And the game ain't changed in the last 10,000 years And while you're sitting around irritated And dehydrated He's out with someone else swinging from the chandeliers - Pack up all your sad songs Trade them in for glad songs and sing Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Before long, you feel your heart get happy Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Before long, you feel your heart get happy -Yeah!

Cheers and applause

-Thanks. -By my troth, a good song. -I pray thee, get us some excellent music for tomorrow night, we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber window. -The best I can, my lord. -Do so. Farewell. Leonato! What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? -Oh, aye!

Laughter

Stalk on, stalk on. -I did never think that lady would have loved any man. -No, nor I neither, but most wonderful she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath, in all outward behaviors, seemed ever to abhor. -Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? -By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to make of it but that she loves him with an enraged affection. It is past the infinite of thought. -Kobe!

Laughter

-Maybe she doth but counterfeit. -Faith, like enough. -Oh, God, counterfeit. There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it. -Why, what effects of passion shows she? -Bait the hook well. This fish will bite. -What effects, my lord? Uh... She -- She will sit you, You heard my daughter tell you how. -She did, indeed. -But how? How?! I pray you. You amaze me. I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. -I would have sworn it had, my lord, especially against Benedick. -He hath ta'en the infection. Hold it up. -Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? -No, swears she never will. That's her torment. -Tis true indeed, so your daughter says. "Shall I," she says, "that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?" -This says she now when she is beginning to write to him, for she'll be up 20 times a night, and there will she sit in her smock until she hath writ a sheet of paper. My daughter tell us all. -And know you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. -Oh? Um... When she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheets. -That. -Oh! She ripped the letter into a thousand halfpence, railed at herself that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. "I measure him," says she, "by my own spirit. I should flout him if he writ to me. Yea, though I love him, I should." -Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps... -

Sobbing

-...sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses, "Oh, sweet Benedick! God give me patience!" -She doth, indeed. -

Chuckles

-My daughter says so, and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometimes afeared she may do a desperate outrage to herself. -It is very true. It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other if she will not discover it. -To what end? He will but make a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse. -And he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an excellent, sweet lady, and out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. -And she is exceeding wise. -In everything but in loving Benedick. -Mm. -I'm sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. -I would she had bestowed this dotage on me. I pray you, tell Benedick of it and hear what he will say. -Were it good, think you? -Never tell him, my lord. Let her wear it out with good counsel. -Nay, that's impossible. She may wear her heart out first. -What? -

Chuckles

-Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter. Let it cool the while. I love Benedick well, and I could wish he would modestly examine himself to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. -My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready. -If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. -Let there be the same net spread for her, and that must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage and no such matter. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. -

Laughs

-This can be no trick. The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady. It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her. They say, too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair. 'Tis a truth. I can bear them witness! And virtuous -- 'Tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me -- by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be... horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I've railed so long against marriage, but doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humor? No! The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.

Grunting

Million-one, million-two, million-three, million-four, million-five, million-six, million-seven, million-eight... -Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. -Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

Laughter

-I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful, I would not have come. -You take pleasure then... in the message? -Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signior. Fare you well. -Ooh! "Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner." There's a double meaning in that. "I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me." That's as much to say that any pains I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain. I will go get her picture.

Cheers and applause

-Good Margaret. Good Margaret. Run thee to the parlor. There shalt thou find my cousin, Beatrice, conversing with the prince and Claudio. Whisper her ear and tell her I and Ursula walk in the orchard and our whole discourse is all of her. Say that thou overheardst us, and bid her steal into the pleached bower. There will she hide her. -I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. -Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, our talk must only be of Benedick. When I do name him, let it be thy part to praise him more than ever man did merit. My talk to thee must be how Benedick is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter is little Cupid's crafty arrow made that only wounds by hearsay.

Both chuckle

-Ooh! Now begin, for look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs close by the ground to hear our conference. -The pleasant'st angling is to the see fish cut with her golden oars the silver stream and greedily devour the treacherous bait. -Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing of the false sweet bait that we lay for it. No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful. -But are you sure that Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? -So says the prince and my new-trothed lord. -And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? -They did entreat me to acquaint her of it, but I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, to wish him wrestle with affection and never to let Beatrice know of it. -Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman deserve as full, as fortunate a bed as ever Beatrice shall couch upon? -Oh, god of love! I know he doth deserve as much as may be yielded to a man, but nature never framed a woman's heart of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, misprising what they look on, and her wit

chuckles

values itself so highly that to her, all matter else seems weak. She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project of affection. She is so self-endeared.

Laughter

-Sure, I think so, and therefore certainly it were not good she knew his love, lest she'll make sport at it. -Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw a man, how wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, but she would spell him backward. If fair-faced, she would swear the gentleman should be her sister. If tall, a Lance ill-headed. If low, an agate, very viley cut, If speaking, like a vane blown with all winds. If silent, why a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out and never gives to truth and virtue that which simpleness and merit purchaseth. -Sure, sure. Such carping is not commendable. -No, not to be so odd and from all fashions as Beatrice is cannot be commendable, but who dare tell her so? If I should speak, she would mock me into air.

Chuckling

Oh! She would laugh me out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore, let Benedick, like covered fire, consume away in sighs, waste inwardly. It were a better death than die with mocks, which is as bad as die with tickling. -Yet tell her of it. Hear what she will say. -No. Rather, I will go to Benedick and counsel him to fight against his passion, and truly, I'll devise some honest slanders to stain my cousin with. One doth not know how much an ill word may empoison liking. -Oh, do not do your cousin such a wrong. -That's what I'm saying! -She cannot be so much without true judgment, having so swift and excellent a wit as she is prized to have, as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick. -He is the only man. -Ah! -Always excepting my dear Claudio. -I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, speaking my fancy. Signior Benedick, for shape, for bearing, argument, and valor, goes foremost in report. -Indeed! He hath an excellent good name. -His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.

Laughter

Wait, when are you married, madam? -Why, every day, tomorrow. Come, go in. I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel, which is the best to furnish me tomorrow. -Ooh! -

Chuckles

-

Groans

-She's limed, I warrant you. We have caught her, madam. -If it proves so, then loving goes by haps. Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with... traps. -Ha!

Cheers and applause

-

Sighs

What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I... condemned for pride and scorn so much?

Sighs deeply

Contempt, farewell. Maiden pride, adieu. No glory lives behind the back of such.

Chuckles

And Benedick, love on -- I will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand. If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee to bind our loves up in a holy band for others say thou dost deserve, and I believe it better than reportingly. Aaaah! Hey, hey No, no, no, no, no Yeah Yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Hey

Cheers and applause

Gallants, I am not as I have been. -So say I. Methinks you are sadder. -

Laughs

-I hope he be in love. -Hang him, truant. There is no true drop of blood in him to be truly touched with love. If he be sad, he wants money. -If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing old signs. He brushes his hat on the mornings. What should that bode? -Has any man seen him at the barber's? -No, but the barber's man has been seen with him. -Ooh. -And the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuffed tennis balls. -Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the loss of a beard. -Nay, he rubs himself with civet. Can you smell him out by that? -

Sniffs

Ew! That's as much as to say. The sweet youth is in love. -The greatest note of it is his melancholy. -And when was he wont to wash his face? -Yea, or to paint himself? Conclude! Conclude he is in love. -Nay, but I know who loves him. -That one I know, too. -Oh, Signor, walk aside with me. I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you which these hobbyhorses must not hear. -For my life, to break with him about Beatrice! -'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two bears will not bite one another when they meet. -My lord and brother, God save you. -Good evening, brother. -If your leisure serves, I would speak with you. -In private? -If it please you, yet Count Claudio may hear, for what I would speak of concerns him. -What's the matter? -Means your lordship to be married tomorrow? -You know he does. -I know not that when he knows what I know. -If there be any impediment, I pray you discover it. -You may think I love you not. Let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now manifest. For my brother, I think he holds you well and in dearness of heart hath hoped to affect your ensuing marriage, surely suit ill spent and labor ill bestowed. -What's the matter? -I came hither to tell you the lady is disloyal. -Who, Hero? -Even she -- Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero. -Disloyal? -The world is too good to paint out her wickedness. I could say she were worse. Think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant. Go but with me tonight. You shall see her chamber window entered even the night before her wedding day. If you love her then, tomorrow wed her, but it would better fit your honor to change your mind. -May this be so? -I will not think it. -If you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you know. If you will follow me, I will show you enough, and when you have seen more and heard more, proceed accordingly. -If I see anything tonight why I should not marry her. Tomorrow in the congregation where I should wed, there will I shame her. -And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to disgrace her. -I will disparage her no farther until you are my witnesses. Bear it coldly but until midnight and let the issue show itself. -Oh, day untowardly turned! -Oh, mischief strangely thwarting! -Oh, plague right well prevented! So will you say when you have seen the sequel.

Whistle blows

Whistle continues

-Are you good men and true? -Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation, body and soul. -Nay, that were punishment too good for them if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the Prince's watch. -Well, give them their charge, neighbor Dogberry. -First, who think you the most desertless man to be constable? -Hugh Otecake, sir. Or George Seacole... -No. -...for they can write and read. -Hmm. Come hither, Neighbor Seacole. Hmm. God hath blessed you with a good name. To be a well-favored man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature. -Both which, Master Constable -- -You have. I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favor, sir, why, give God thanks, and make no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, why, let that appear when there's no need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch. Therefore, bear you the lantern. This is your charge. You shall comprehend all vagrom men. You are to bid any man stand, in the Prince's name. -How if he will not stand? -Why, then take no note of him, but let him go and presently call the rest of the watch together and thank God you are rid of a knave. -If he were not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the Prince's subjects. -True, and they are to meddle with none but the Prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in the streets for, for the watch to babble and to talk is most tolerable and not to be endured. -We would rather sleep than talk. We know what belongs to a watch. -Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend. Only have a care that your bills be not stolen. Well, you are to call at all the alehouses and bid those that are drunk, get them to bed. -How if they will not? -Why, then let them alone till they are sober. If they make you not then the better answer, you may say they are not the men you took them for. -Well, sir, I believe -- -If you meet a thief, you may suspect him by the virtue of your office to be no true man, for such kind of man, the less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honesty. -If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hand? -Truly by your office, you may, but I think they that touch pitch will be defiled. The most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him show himself what he is and steal out of your company. -You have always been called merciful, partner. -

Chuckles

Well, masters, goodnight, and if there be any manner of weight chances, call up me. Keep your fellow councils and your own, and goodnight. Come, neighbor. -Well, masters, we hear our charge.

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

00 and then off to bed. -Hey.

Whistle blows

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-One word more, honest neighbors. I pray you watch about Signor Leonato's door, for the wedding being there tomorrow, there's a great coil tonight. Adieu. Be vigitant, I beseech you. -What Conrade? -Peace! Stir not. -Conrade, I say! -Here, man. I'm at thy elbow. -Mass, and my elbow itched. I thought there would a scab follow. -I will owe thee an answer for that and now forward with thy tale. -Stand thee close then, and I will like a true drunkard utter all to thee. -Some treason, masters, yet stay close. -Therefore, know I have earned a thousand ducats of Don John. -Is it possible any villainy should be so dear? -Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any villainy should be so rich, for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will. -I wonder at it.

Rattling

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-Dost thou not hear somebody? -Nah. 'Twas the vane on the house. -Know that I have tonight wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman by the name of Hero. She leans me out at her mistress' chamber window, bids me a thousand times good night. I tell this tale vilely. I should first tell thee how the Prince, Claudio, and my master, planted and placed and possessed by my master, Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter. -And thought they Margaret was Hero? -Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, but the Devil, my master, knew she was Margaret, and partly by his oaths which first possessed them, partly by the dark night which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villainy which did confirm any slander Don John had made. Away went Claudio, enraged, swore he would meet her as he was appointed next morning at the temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw o'ernight and sent her home again without a husband. -We charge you in the Prince's name! Stand! -Call up the right Master Constable!

Whistle blows

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-Get --

Grunting

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-We have hereby recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth.

Whistle blows

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-Masters, never speak. We charge you. Let us obey you to go with us. -Come. We'll obey you.

Whistle blows

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-Good Ursula! -Uh-huh? -Wake my cousin Beatrice and desire her to rise. -I will, Lady. -And bid her come hither. -Ooh, well. -Oh. -

Chuckles

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

Troth, I think your other rebato were better. -No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. -By my troth, it's not so good, and I warrant your cousin will say so. -My cousin is a fool, and thou art another. -Oh? -I'll wear none but this.

Both laugh

Let us go sit here upon the church bench till 2

-Ooh. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner, and your gown's a most rare fashion, faith. -God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy. -It will be heavier soon by the weight of a man. -Fie upon thee! Art not ashamed? -Of what, lady? Of speaking honorably? Is not marriage honorable in a beggar? Is not your lord honorable without marriage? I think you would have me say, "Saving your reverence, a husband." And bad thinking do not wrest true speaking. I'll offend nobody. Is there any harm in "the heavier for a husband"? None, I think, and it be the right husband and the right wife. Otherwise, 'tis light and not heavy. -Hmm. -Ask my Lady Beatrice else. Here she comes. -Good morrow, coz! -Good morrow, sweet Hero! -Why, how now? Do you speak in the sick tune? -'Tis

almost 5

00, cousin! -Aaaaah! -'Tis time you were ready! -Ugh, by my troth, I'm exceeding ill, heigh-ho! -For a hawk, a horse or a husband? -For the letter that begins them all, H. By my troth, I'm sick. -Get you some of this distilled carduus benedictus and lay it to your heart. It is the only thing for a qualm. -Benedictus? -Hmm. -Why benedictus? You have some moral in this benedictus? -Moral? No. By my troth, I have no moral meaning. You may think perchance that I think that you are in love. -Ah! -Nay, by your Lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list not to think what I can, nor indeed, I cannot think. If I were to think my heart out of thinking that you are in love or that you will be in love or that you can be in love. Yet, hmm, Benedick was such another... -Hmm. -...and now is he become a man. Oh, he swore he would never marry, and now in despite his heart, he eats his meat without grudging, and how you may be converted, I know not, yet methinks you look with your eyes as other women do. -What pace is this that thy tongue keeps? -Not a false gallop.

Light laughter

Indistinct talking

almost 5

-

Gasps

almost 5

Madam, withdraw! The Prince, the Count, Signor Benedick, Don John and all the gallants of the town are come to bid you to church! -Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. -Oh. Come on. -Ah. - Hey, hey, hey, yeah -What would you with me, honest neighbor? -Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you that discerns you nearly. -Brief, I pray you, for you see, it is a busy time with me. -Marry, this it is, sir. -Yes, in truth, it is, sir. -What is it, my good friends? -Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the matter, an old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt as, God help, I would desire they were, but, in faith, honest as the skin between his brows. -Yes, I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I. -Comparisons are odorous. Palabras, Neighbor Verges. -Neighbors, you are tedious. -It pleases Your Worship to say so, but we are the poor duke's officers, but truly for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. -

Chuckles

almost 5

All thy tediousness on me. I would fain know what you have to say. -Marry, sir, our watch tonight, excepting Your Worship's presence, ha' ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any. -A good old man, sir, he will be talking. As they say, "When the age is in, the wit is out." God help us. It is a world to see. Well said in faith, Neighbor Verges. Well, God is a good man, and two men ride of a horse. One must ride behind. -I must leave you. -One word, sir. Our watch, sir, have indeed comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before Your Worship. -Well, take their examination yourself and bring it me. I am now in great haste as it may appear unto you. -It shall be suffigance. -Drink you some wine ere you go. Fare you well. -My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband. -I'll wait upon them.

Chuckles

almost 5

Hmm. I am ready. -Go, good partner, go. Get you to Francis Seacole. Bid him bring his pen and inkhorn. We are now to examination these men. -And we must do it wisely! -We will spare for no wit, I warrant you, only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication.

Cheers and applause

almost 5

Cheers and applause

almost 5

- Precious Lord Take my hand Lead me on Let me stand I am tired I am weak I am worn Through the storm Through the night Lead me on Through the light Take my hand Precious Lord And lead me Home

Cheers and applause

almost 5

-You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady? -No. -To be married to her, Friar. You come to marry her. -Lady, you come hither to be married to this Count? -I do. -If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, I charge you on your souls to utter it. -Know you any, Hero? -None, my lord. -Know you any, Count? -I dare make his answer none. -Oh, what men dare do! What men may do! What men daily do not knowing what they do! -How now, interjections? -Stand thee by, Friar. Father, by your leave, will you with free and unconstrained soul give me this maid, your daughter? -As freely, son, as God did give her me. -And what have I to give you back whose worth may counterpoise this rich and precious gift? -Nothing... unless you render her again. -Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness. There! Leonato! -

Screams

almost 5

-Take her back again! Give not this rotten orange to your friend. She's but the sign and semblance of her honor. Behold how like a maid she blushes here. -

Whimpering

almost 5

-Oh, what authority and show of truth can cunning sin cover itself withal! Comes not this blood as modest evidence to witness simple virtue? Would you not swear, all you that see her, that she were a maid by these exterior shows? But she is none. She knows the heat of a luxurious bed. Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty. -What do you mean, my lord? -Not to be married, not to knit my soul to an approved wanton. -Dear, my lord, if you in your own proof have vanquished the resistance of her youth and made defeat of her virginity -- -I know what you would say. If I have known her, you will say she did embrace me as a husband and so extenuate the forehand sin. No, Leonato. I never tempted her with word too large, but, as a brother to a sister, showed bashful sincerity and comely love. -And seemed I ever otherwise to you? -Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it. You seem to me as Dian in her orb, as chaste as is the bud ere it be blown, but you are more intemperate in your blood than Venus or those pampered animals that rage in savage sensuality. -Is my lord well that he doth speak s-so wide? -Sweet Prince, why speak not you? -What should I speak? I stand dishonored that have gone about to link my dear friend to a common stale! -Are these things spoken, or do I but dream? -Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. -This looks not like a nuptial. -True? Oh, God. -Leonato, stand I here? Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's brother? Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own? -All of this is so, but what of this, my lord? -Let me but move one question to your daughter and by that fatherly and kindly power that you have in her, bid her answer truly. -I charge thee to do so, as thou art my child! -

Voice breaking

almost 5

Oh, God, defend me! How am I beset?! What kind of catechizing call you this? -To make you answer truly to your name! -Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name with any just reproach? -Marry, that could Hero! Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue! What man was he talked with you yesternight out at your window betwixt 12 and 1? Now, if you are a maiden, answer this. -I talked with no man at that hour, my lord. -Why then are you no maiden? Leonato! I am sorry you must hear. Upon mine honor, myself, my brother, and this grieved Count did see her, hear her at that hour last night talk with a ruffian in her chamber window who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain, confessed the vile encounters they have had a thousand times in secret! -Fie! Fie! They are not to be named, my lord, not to be spoke of. There is not chastity enough in language without offense to utter them. Thus, pretty lady, I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.

Indistinct shouting

almost 5

-

Screaming

Sobbing

almost 5

-Oh, Hero. What a Hero hadst thou been if half thy outward graces had been placed about thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart, but fare thee well, most foul, most fair! Farewell, thou pure impiety and impious purity. For thee, I'll lock up all the gates of love, and on my eyelids shall conjecture hang to turn all beauty into thoughts of harm, and never shall it more be gracious!

Sobbing continues

almost 5

-Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? -

Gasps

almost 5

-Oh! Why, how now, cousin? Wherefore sink you down? -Come! Let us go! These things come thus to light, smother her spirits up! -How doth the lady? -Dead, I think! Help, Uncle! Hero! Why, Hero?! Uncle! Signor Benedick! Friar! -O Fate, take not away thy heavy hand. Death is the fairest cover for her shame that may be wished for. -Why, how now, cousin? -Have comfort, lady. -Dost thou look up? -Yea, wherefore should she not? -Wherefore? Why doth not every earthly thing cry shame upon her? Could she here deny the story that is printed in her blood? Why ever... wast thou lovely in mine eyes? Why had I not with charitable hand took up a beggar's issue at my gate who smirched thus and mired with infamy? I might have said, "No part of it is mine. This shame derives itself from unknown loins." -Stand up. -

Sniffles

almost 5

But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised, mine that I was proud on, mine so much that I was to myself not mine. Valuing of her -- Why? -

Sobs

almost 5

-Oh. She has fallen into a pit of ink that the wide sea hath dropped too few to wash her clean again and salt too little which may season give to her foul, tainted flesh. -

Sobbing continues

almost 5

-Sir, sir, be patient. For my part, I am so attired in wonder I know not what to say. -On my soul, my cousin is belied! -Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? -No, truly not, although until last night, I have this 12 month been her bedfellow. -Confirmed! Confirmed! Oh, that is stronger made which was before barred with ribs of iron! Would the two princes lie? And Claudio lie? Who loved her so that speaking of her foulness washed it with tears? Hence from her. Let her die. -Hear me a little, for I have only silent been so long and given way unto this course of fortune by noting of the lady! Trust not my age, my reverence, calling nor divinity. If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here under some biting error. -Friar, it cannot be. Thou seest that the only grace that she hath left is that she not add to her damnation a sin of perjury. She not denies it! Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse that which appears in proper nakedness? -Lady, what man is he you are accused of? -They know that do accuse me. I know none! If I know more of any man alive than that which maiden modesty doth warrant... let all my sins lack mercy. -There is some strange misprision in the princes. -Two of them have the very bent of honor, and if their wisdoms be misled in this, the practice of it lives in John the Bastard, whose spirits toil in frame of villainies. -I know not! If they speak but truth of her, these hands shall tear her, and if they wrong her honor, the proudest of them shall well hear of it! -Pause awhile and let my counsel sway you in this case. Your daughter here the princes left for dead. Let her awhile be secretly kept in and publish it that she is dead indeed. Maintain a mourning ostentation, and on your family's old monuments hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites that appertain unto a burial. -What shall come of this? What will this do? -Marry, this, well carried, shall, on her behalf, change slander to remorse! She dying, as it must be so maintained, upon the instant she was accused shall be lamented, pitied, and excused of every hearer, for it so falls out that what we have, we prize not to the worth whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, why, then we rack the value. Then we find the virtue that possession would not show us whiles it was ours, but if all aim but this be leveled false, the supposition of the lady's death will quench the wonder of her infamy, and if it sort not well, you may conceal her as best befits her wounded reputation in some reclusive and religious life out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries. -Signor Leonato, let the friar advise you, and though you know my inwardness and love is very much unto the Prince and Claudio... yet by mine honor, I will deal in this as secretly and justly as your soul should with your body. -Being that I flow in grief, the smallest twine may lead me. -'Tis well consented. Presently away. For to strange sores, strangely they strain the cure. Come, lady! Die to live!

Cheers and applause

almost 5

This wedding day perhaps is but prolonged. Have patience and endure! -

Sobbing

Applause

almost 5

-

Weeping

almost 5

-Lady Beatrice... have you wept all this while? -Yea... and I will weep a while longer. -I will not desire that. -You have no reason. I do it freely. -Surely, I do believe your fair cousin is wronged. -How much might the man deserve of me that would right her? -Is there any way to show such friendship? -A very even way, but no such friend. -May a man do it? -It is a man's office... but not yours. -I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange? -As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you, but believe me not, yet I lie not. I confess nothing nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin. -By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. -Do not swear and eat it. -I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you. -Will you not eat your word? -With no sauce that can be devised to it, I protest, I love thee. -Why then, God, forgive me. -What offense, sweet Beatrice? -You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest that... I loved you. -And do it with all thy heart. -I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest. -Come. Bid me do anything for thee. -Kill Claudio. -Ha, not for the wide world. -You kill me to deny it. Farewell! -Tarry, sweet Beatrice. -I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, let me go. -Beatrice -- -In faith, I will go. -We'll be friends first. -You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy? -Is Claudio thine enemy? -Is he not approved in the height of villain that has slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? Oh, that I were a man. What bear her in hand until they come to take hands and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancor... Oh, God that I were a man, I would eat his heart in the marketplace. -Hear me, Beatrice -- -Talk with a man out a window. A proper saying. -Nay, but, Beatrice -- Sweet Hero, she is wronged. She is slandered. She is undone. -Beatrice -- -Oh, that I were a man for his sake!

Breathing shakily

almost 5

Or that I had any friend would be man for my sake. But manhood is melted into curtsies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue and trim ones, too. He is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing. Therefore, I will a die a woman with grieving. -Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee. -Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it. -Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero? -Yea! As sure as I have a thought or a soul. -Enough. I am engaged. I will challenge him. I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. -

Sighs

almost 5

-By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you hear of me... so think of me. Go. Comfort your cousin. I must say she is dead. And so farewell.

Cheers and applause

Cheers and applause

Whistle blows

almost 5

-Is our whole dissembly appeared? -Oh, a stool for the sexton. -

Clears throat

almost 5

-Which be the malefactors? -Marry, that am I and my partner. -Nay, that's certain. We have the exhibition to examine. -But which are the offenders that are to be examined? Let them come before Master Constable. -Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your name, friend? -Borachio. -Hmm. Pray, write down Borachio.

Clears throat

almost 5

Yours, sirrah? -I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade. -Write down, Master Gentleman Conrade. Masters, do you serve God? -Yea, sir. -We hope. -Write down they hope they serve God, and write God first, for God defend, but God should go before such villains! Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves? -Marry, sir, we say we are none. -

Chuckles

almost 5

A marvelous witty fellow, I assure you, but I will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah, a word in your ear. Sir, I say to you it is thought that you are false knaves. -Sir, I say to you, we are none. -Well, stand aside. 'Fore God, they are both in a tale. Have you writ down that they are none? -Master Constable, you go not the way to examine. You must call forth the watch that are their accusers. -Yea, marry! That's the eftest way. Let the watch come forth.

Whistle blows

almost 5

Masters, I charge you in the prince's name, accuse these men. -This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's brother, was a villain. -Write down Prince John a villain. Why, that is flat perjury to call a prince's brother villain. -Master Constable? -Pray thee, fellow, peace. I do not like thy look, I promise thee. -What heard you him say else? -Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully. -What else, fellow? -And that Count Claudio did mean upon his words to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly and not marry her. -Oh, villain! That wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this. -What else? -This is all. -And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away. Hero was in this manner accused, in this very manner refused, and upon the grief of it suddenly died. Master Constable, let these men be bound and brought to Leonato's. I will go before and show him their examination. -The stool!

Applause

almost 5

-Come. Let them be opinioned. -Off, coxcomb! -Oh, God's my life. Where's the sexton? Let him write down the prince's officer "coxcomb." Come, bind them up, thou naught varlet! -Away! You are an ass! -Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my years? Oh, that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember that I am an ass, though it be not written down. Yet forget not that I am an ass.

Laughter, applause

almost 5

I am a wise fellow, and which is more an officer, and which is more a householder, and which is more as pretty a piece of flesh as any.

Cheers and applause

almost 5

And one that knows the law, go to. And a rich fellow enough, go to, and a fellow that hath had losses. Bring him away! Oh, that I had been writ down an ass! Ha!

Applause

almost 5

-If you go on thus, you will kill yourself. And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief against yourself. -I pray thee, cease thy counsel which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve. For, brother, men can counsel and speak comfort to that grief which they themselves not feel. But tasting it,

scoffs

almost 5

their counsel turns to passion, which before would give preceptial medicine to rage. Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, charm ache with air, and agony with words. No. No! 'Tis all men's office to speak patience to those that wring under the load of sorrow, but no man's virtue nor sufficiency to be so moral when he shall endure the like himself. Therefore, give me no counsel. My griefs cry louder than advertisement. -Therein do men from children nothing differ. -I pray thee peace. I will be flesh and blood. For there was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently. -Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself. Make those that do offend you suffer, too. -There, thou speak'st reason. Nay, I will do so. My soul doth tell me that Hero is belied. That shall Claudio know, and so shall the Prince, and all of them that thus dishonor her. -Here comes the Prince and Claudio, hastily. -Good e'en. Good e'en. -Good day to both of you. -Hear you, my lords -- -We have some haste, Leonato. -Some haste, my lord? Well, fare you well, my lord. Are you so hasty now? Well, all is one. -Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. -If he could right himself with quarreling, some of us would lie low. -Who wrongs him? -Marry, thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou. Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword. I fear thee not! -Marry, beshrew my hand if it should give your age such cause of fear. In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword. -Tush, tush, man! Never fleer and jest at me. I speak not like a dotard or a fool. As under privilege of age to brag what I have done being young, or what would do were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head, thou hast so wronged mine innocent child and me that I am forced to lay my reverence by. And with gray hairs...

Groans

almost 5

...and bruise of many days do challenge thee to trial of a man. I say thou hast belied my innocent child. Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart. And she lies buried with her ancestors in a tomb where never yet scandal slept. Save this of hers, framed be thy villainy. -My villainy? -Thine, Claudio. Thine, I say. -You say not right, old man. -My lord, my lord. I'll prove it on his body if he dare. -Away! I will not have to do with you. -Thou hast killed my child! If thou kills me, boy, thou shalt kill a man! -He shall kill two of us! Come, sir boy, come! Follow me. Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence. Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will. -Brother -- -Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece, and she is dead, slandered to death by villains that dare as well answer a man indeed as I dare take a serpent by the tongue. Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops! -Brother Anthony! -Come, 'tis no matter. Do not you meddle. Let me deal in this. -Gentlemen, both, we will not wake your patience. My heart is sorry for your daughter's death, but on my honor, she was charged with nothing but what was true and very full of proof! -My lord -- -I will not hear you. -No?! -Brother, come away. I will be heard. -And shall! or some of us will smart for it. -See? See? Here comes the man we went to seek. -Now, signior, what news? -Good day, my lord. -Welcome, signior. You are almost come to part almost a fray. -We had like to have had our two noses snapped off by two old men without teeth. -Leonato and his brother, what think'st thou? Had we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them. -In a false quarrel, there is no true valor. I came to seek you both. -We have been up and down to seek thee, for we are high-proof melancholy and would fain have it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit? -It is in my scabbard. Shall I draw it? -Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? -Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit. I will bid thee draw. Draw to pleasure us. -As I am an honest man, he looks dark. Art thou sick or angry? -What courage, man! -Sir, I pray you choose another subject. -By this light, I think he be angry indeed. -Shall I speak a word in your ear? -God bless me from a challenge. -You are a villain! I jest not. I will make it good how you dare with what you dare and when you dare. Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you! Let me hear from you. -Well, I will meet you so I may have good cheer. -Fare you well, boy. You know my mind. I will leave you now to your gossip-like humor. You break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies, I thank you. I must discontinue your company. Your brother, the bastard, is fled. -You have among you killed a sweet, innocent lady. For my Lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet. Till then... peace be with him. -He is in earnest. -In most profound earnest, and I'll warrant you for the love of Beatrice. -And hath challenged thee. -Most sincerely! -But soft you, let me be. Did he not say my brother was fled?

Whistle blows

almost 5

-Come you, sir. -How now? Two of my brother's men bound, Borachio one! -Hearken after their offense, my lord. -Officers, what offense have these men done? -Marry, sir, they have committed false report. Moreover, they have spoken untruths. Secondarily, they are slanders. Sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady. Thirdly, they have verified unjust things. And to conclude, they are lying knaves!

Applause

almost 5

-First, I ask thee, what they have done. Thirdly, I ask thee, what's their offense? Sixth and lastly, why they are committed. And to conclude, what you lay to their charge. Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? This learned constable is too cunning to be understood. What's you're offense?! -Sweet Prince, let me go no farther to mine answer. Do you hear me and let this count kill me? For I have deceived even your very eyes. What your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light, who in the night overheard me confessing to this man how Don John, your brother, incensed me to slander the Lady Hero how you were brought into the orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments, how you disgraced her when you should marry her. My villainy, they have upon record, which I had rather seal with my death than repeat over to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation. And briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain. -

Sobs

almost 5

-Runs not this speech like iron through your blood? -I have drunk poison whilst he uttered it. -But did my brother set thee on to this? -Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it. -He is composed and framed of treachery, and fled he is upon this villainy. -Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear in the rare semblance that I loved it first. -Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this time, our sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter. And, masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass!

Laughter

almost 5

-Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes, that when I note another man like him, I may avoid him. Which of these is he? -If you would know your wronger, look on me. -Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast killed mine innocent child? -Yea, even I alone. -No, not so, villain. Thou belie'st thyself. Here stand a pair of honorable men. A third is fled that had a hand in it. I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death. Record it with your high and worthy deeds. 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. -I know not how to pray your patience, yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself. Impose me to what penance your invention can lay upon my sin, yet sinned I not but in mistaking. -By my soul, nor I, and yet to satisfy this good old man, I would bend under any heavy weight that he'll enjoin me to. -I cannot bid you bid my daughter live. That were impossible.

Laughter

almost 5

But I pray you both possess the people here how innocent she died. And if your love can labor ought in sad invention, hang her an epitaph upon her tomb and sing it to her bones. Sing it tonight! Tomorrow morning, come you to my house. And since you could not be my son-in-law, be yet my nephew. My brother hath a daughter, almost the copy of my child... that's dead. She alone is heir to both of us. Give her the right you should have given her cousin, and so dies my revenge. -Oh, noble sir! Your overkindness doth wring tears from me. I do embrace your offer and dispose for henceforth of poor Claudio. -Tomorrow then, I expect your coming. Tonight, I take my leave. This naughty man shall face-to-face be brought to Margaret, who I believe was packed in all this wrong, hired to it by your brother. -No, by my soul, she was not, nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, but always hath been just and virtuous in anything that I do know by her. -Moreover, sir, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass. I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment. -I thank thee for thy care and honest pain. -Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverent youth, and I praise God for you. -There's for thy pain. -God save the foundation.

Laughter

almost 5

-Go! I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee. -I leave an arrant knave with your worship, which I would beseech your worship to correct yourself for the example of others. God keep your worship! I wish your worship well.

Laughter

almost 5

God restore you to health! I humbly give you leave to depart, and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbor. -Until tomorrow morning, my lords, fare you well. -Farewell, my lords. We'll look for you tomorrow. -We will not fail. -Tonight, I'll mourn with Hero. -Bring you these fellows on. We'll talk with Margaret how her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. - Na, na, na Na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na Na, na, na, na Na, na -- N-- No! No, no No, no, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no No, no, no, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no, no, no -Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret. Deserve well at my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice. -Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty? -In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it, for in most comely truth, thou deservest it. -To have no man come over me! Why, shall I always keep below stairs? -Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth. It catches. -

Chuckles

almost 5

And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit but hurt not. -A most manly wit, Margaret. It will not hurt a woman. And so, I pray thee, call Beatrice. -Okay. -

Sighs

almost 5

Oh, oh, oh Oh, don't you love, don't you love me no more Know that I'm fire Stop playing Know you can't let me go Why you saying your love is expired? I can tell when you're lying I know how you feel Yeah, I know Stop singing all those sad songs Come and get this glad song, baby Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, ney, ney Na, na, na, na, na, na, na Mm, you know you love me, baby Baby, baby, baby, baby Lady, lady, lady, lady I'm your fool I'm your fool I'm your fool In school?

Laughter

almost 5

I mean in singing, but in loving, Leander the good swimmer, Troilus, the first employer of panders and a whole bookful of those quondam carpetmongers whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse. Why, they were never so truly turned over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme. I have tried. I can find out no rhyme to "lady" but "baby," an innocent rhyme; for "scorn," "horn," a hard rhyme; for "school," "fool," a babbling rhyme, very ominous endings. No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms. -

Sighs

almost 5

-Sweet Beatrice? Wouldst thou come when I called thee? -Yes, signior, and depart when you bid me. -Ooh! Stay but till then! -Then is spoken. Fare you well now. -

Chuckles

almost 5

-And yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came, which is in knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio. -Only foul words. And thereupon, I will kiss thee. -Mnm-mnm. Foul words is but foul wind, and fould wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome. Therefore, I will depart unkissed. -Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge. And either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And now, I pray thee, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me? -

Laughs

almost 5

-For them all together, which maintained so politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my... good parts did thy first suffer love for me? -Suffer love! A good epithet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will. -In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor heart, if you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours, for I will never love that which my friend hates. -Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Now tell me, how doth your cousin? -Very ill. -And how do you? -Very ill, too. -Serve God, love me, and mend. -Madam! -There will I leave you, for here comes one in haste. -

Breathing heavily

almost 5

-Oh, Madam, you --

Laughter

almost 5

-Madam? Madam! You must come to your uncle. It has been proved, my Lady Hero hath been falsely accused, the Prince and Claudio mightily abused, and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone. Will you come presently? -

Panting

almost 5

-Will you go hear this news, Signior? -I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be be buried in thy eyes. And moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's.

Applause

almost 5

-Is this the monument of Leonato? -It is, my lord. -

Sniffles

almost 5

-Done to death by slanderous tongues was the Hero that here lies. Death, in guerdon of her wrongs, gives her fame which never dies, so the life that died with shame, lives in death with glorious fame. Hang thou there upon the tomb, praising her when I am dumb. Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. Ooh - Ooh-hoo - Ooh - Mm-hmm Oh, please, goddess of the night Please forgive these men who took your child They come before you now to sing for her 0 So come and show us how - Teach us what to say - Teach us what to say - To make things right with those who passed away - Ooh - Take us by the head - Take us by the head - And help us when - It's hard to understand - Guide us Guide us Speak to us and teach us how to live Show us what love is - But most of all, forgive - Oh But most of all, forgive

Cheers and applause

almost 5

-Now, unto thy bones, good night! Yearly will I do this rite. -Good morrow, masters. Thanks to you all, and leave us. Fare you well. -Good morrow, masters, each his several way. -Come, let us hence and put on other weeds, and then to Leonato's we will go. -And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds than this for whom we rendered up this woe. -Did I not tell you she was innocent?

Chuckles

almost 5

-So, are the prince and Claudio, who accused her upon the error which you heard debated.

Applause

almost 5

But

clears throat

almost 5

Margaret was in some fault for this, although against her will as it appears in the true course of all the question. -Well, I am glad all things sort so well. -And so am I, being else by faith enforced to call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. -Well, daughter, and gentlewomen all, withdraw you into a chamber by yourselves. And when I send for you, come hither masked.

Chuckles

almost 5

The Prince and Claudio have promised upon this hour to visit me. Brother, you know your office. You must be father to your brother's daughter and give her to young Claudio. -Which I will do with confirmed countenance. -Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. -To do what, Signior? -To bind me or undo me, one of them. Signior Leonato, truth it is, good Signior. Your niece regards me with an eye of favor. -That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true. -And I do with an eye of love requite her. -The sight whereof I believe you had from me, the Prince, and Claudio, but what's your will? -Your answer, sir, is enigmatical. But for my will, my will is your goodwill may stand with ours, this day, to be conjoined in the state of honorable m--

Laughs

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In the state of honorable... m--

Whispers

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Marriage. In which, good Friar, I shall desire your help. -My heart is with your liking. -And my heart. Here comes the Prince and Claudio. -Good morrow to this fair assembly. -Good morrow, count. Good morrow, Claudio. We here attend you. Are you yet determined today to marry with my brother's daughter? -I'll hold my mind. -Brother, call her forth. Here's the Friar, ready. -Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter that you have such a February face, so full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness? -Here comes other reck'nings. - Today I'll make a promise To share with you my life Everything I give to you For I am yours and you are mine - Where you go, I will go Knowing you'll be by my side I will leave the world behind - No matter where you are, remember I'll never be too far away And when the good times turn to bad times Know that my heart will still remain - And as the days turn to years - To years - My love will never change - Oh And my heart belongs to only you - No matter where you are, remember - I'll never be too far away - And when the good times turn to bad times - Know that my heart will still remain And as the days turn to years - To years - My love will never change - And my heart belongs to only you Always - Only you Always

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-Which is the lady I must seize upon? -

Clears throat

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Mnm-mnm, mm. -This same is she, and I do give you her. -Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face. -No! That you shall not till you take her hand before this friar and swear to marry her.

Laughter

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-Give me your hand before this holy friar. I am your husband, if you like of me. -And when I lived, I was your other wife. And when you loved, you were my other husband. -Another Hero! -Nothing certainer. One Hero died defiled, but I do live.

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And surely as I live, I am a maiden. -The former Hero, Hero that is dead! -She died my lord, but whiles her slander lived. -All this amazement can I qualify when after that the holy rites are ended, I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death. Meantime, let wonder seem familiar and to the chapel, let us presently. -Oh! Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?

Laughter

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-I answer to that name. What is your will? -Do not you love me? -Why no.

Chuckles

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No more than reason. -Why then, your uncle, the prince, and Claudio have been deceived. They swore you did. -Do not you love me? -Troth, nah. No more than reason. -Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula are much deceived, for they did swear you did. -They swore you were almost sick for me. -They swore you were well-nigh dead for me.

Laughter

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-'Tis no such matter. Then you... do not love me? -No! But truly, in friendly recompense. -Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. -And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her, for here's a paper written in his hand... -Aye, oh! -...a halting sonnet of his own pure brain fashioned to Beatrice. -And here's another, writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, containing her affection unto Benedick.

Laughter

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-

Giggles

Laughter

Light laughter

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-A miracle! Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come. I will have thee, but by this light, I take thee for pity. -I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.

Laughter

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-Peace! I will stop your mouth.

Cheers and applause

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-How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

Cheers and applause

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-In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it. And therefore, never flout at me for what I have said against it. For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. Claudio, for thy part, I did think to have beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman... live unbruised and love my cousin. -I had well hoped thou would have denied Beatrice that I might have cudgeled thee out of thy single life to make thee a double-dealer, which, out of question, thou wilt be if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. -Come, come! We are friends. Let us have a dance ere we are married, that we might lighten our own hearts and our wives' heels. -We'll have dancing afterwards. -First, of my word! Prince, thou art sad. Get thee a wife. Get thee a wife!

All cheering

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-My lord, your brother John is taken in flight and brought with armed men back. -Think not on him till tomorrow. I'll devise the brave punishments for him. Strike up!

Indistinct talking

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Girl, you don't know nothing about this. Alright. - Slide to the left Slide to the right Now back it up twice Now back it up twice Slide to the left Slide to the right Now back it up twice - Now back it up! - Now back it up twice Twirl that thing around Twirl that thing around Giddy on up and jump Giddy on up and jump Twirl that thing around Twirl that thing around Giddy on up and jump Giddy on up and jump Slide to the left Slide to the right Now back it up twice Now back it up twice Slide to the left Slide to the right Now back it up twice Now back it up twice Twirl that thing around -

Sighing

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Oh!

Siren wailing

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-Formation! Formation!

Siren continues

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Hunh! Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Forward march! Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left

Applause

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Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Forward march! - Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left Right, oh, left Left, right, left, right, oh, left, right, left Right, oh, left - Lift every voice and sing Till Earth and heaven ring Ring with the harmonies Of liberty - For the Father We don't need to escalate War is not the answer Only love can conquer hate But we've got to find a way To bring some loving Some loving here today

Cheers and applause

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Oh, what's going on? What's going on? What's going on?

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-To find out more about this and other "Great Performances" programs, visit pbs.org/greatperformances. Find us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.

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