Much Ado About Nothing

by William Shakespeare

Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?

she loves him with an enraged affection; it is past the infinite of thought.

LEON. . . . She loves him with an enraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought.

Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.

I should think this a gull,35 but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

BENE. I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?

D. PEDRO Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? LEON. No, and swears she never will; that's her torment. CLAUDIO 'Tis true, indeed, so your daughter says. 'Shall I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?

O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence;

LEON. O, she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; 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; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.

in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear.

Love me! why, it must be requited.

When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.

Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.

Enter BEATRICE. BEAT. Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. BENE. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. BEAT. 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. BENE. You take pleasure, then, in the message? BEAT. 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.

Ha! ‘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 as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks.

BENE. Ha! ‘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 as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. [Exit. ]

the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen’d by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter; like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it:

HERO. the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles ripened by the sun Forbid the sun to enter, like favorites Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it

It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling.

HERO. . . . It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.

BENE. Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.

D. PEDRO. O day untowardly turned! CLAUD. O mischief strangely thwarting! D. JOHN. O plague right well prevented! so will you say when you have seen the sequel.

D. PEDRO. O day untowardly turned! CLAUD. O mischief strangely thwarting! D. JOHN. O plague right well prevented! so will you say when you have seen the sequel.

to be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.

You are thought here to be the most senseless46 and fit man for the constable of the watch;

and thank God you are rid of a knave.

You shall also make no noise in the streets; for for the watch to babble and to talk is most tolerable49 and not to be endured.

for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes will never answer a calf when he bleats.

Neighbours, you are tedious.

LEON. Neighbours, you are tedious. DOG. 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 in my heart to bestow it all of your worship.

O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been,

CLAUD. O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been

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.

CLAUD. . . . 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 be more gracious

Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you

for it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack’d and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours.

FRIAR. Marry, this, well carried, shall on her behalf Change slander to remorse; that is some good: But not for that dream I on this strange course, But on this travail look for greater birth. She dying, as it must be so maintain’d, Upon the instant that 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 lack’d and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. . . .

I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?

BENE. I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?

I love you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest.

BEAT. I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in you: nay, I pray you, let me go.

BEAT. I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go.

O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place.

BEAT. Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands; and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,—O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place.

I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

BEAT. . . . 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 die a woman with grieving.

By this hand, I love thee.

BENE. Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee. BEAT. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

Dost thou not suspect70 my place? dost thou not suspect my years? O 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. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety,71 as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. 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 is in Messina; and one that knows the law, go to; and a rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath had losses; and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handsome about him. Bring him away. O that I had been writ down an ass!

DOG. Dost thou not suspect70 my place? dost thou not suspect my years? O 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. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, 71 as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. 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 is in Messina; and one that knows the law, go to; and a rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath had losses; and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handsome about him. Bring him away. O that I had been writ down an ass! [Exeunt.]

I pray thee, cease thy counsel,

LEON. I pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve: give not me counsel; Nor let no comforter delight mine ear But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. Bring me a father that so loved his child, Whose joy of her is overwhelm’d like mine, And bid him speak of patience; Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, And let it answer every strain for strain, As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, In every lineament, branch, shape, and form: If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard, Bid sorrow wag, cry ‘hem!’ when he should groan, Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience. But there is no such man: for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, 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.

men from children nothing differ.

For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently,

LEON. . . . For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently

Officers, what offence have these men done?

D. PEDRO. Officers, what offence have these men done? DOG. 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.

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

BEAT. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

BENE. Thou has 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, I pray thee now, tell me for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me? BEAT. ‘All of them together,’ she said. ‘They maintained such a well organised state of evil that they wouldn’t allow any good quality to intermingle with them

Suffer love,—a good epithet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

BENE. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps.

BENE. . . . If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps

I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle’s.

BENE. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle’s. [Exeunt.]

Done to death by slanderous tongues

Why, what’s the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?

D. PEDRO. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what’s the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?

BENE. A miracle! here’s our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity. BEAT. 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.

BENE. A miracle! Here’s our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. BEAT. 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.

Peace! I will stop your mouth.

BENE. Peace! I will stop your mouth. [Kissing her.]

for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.

Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

BENE. . . . Prince, thou art sad. Get thee a wife, get thee a wife. There is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.