Much Ado About Nothing - Noyemi

By William Shakespeare

  Beat. [unmasks] I answer to that name. What is your will?
  Bene. Do not you love me?
  Beat. Why, no; no more than reason.
  Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio
    Have been deceived; for they swore you did.
  Beat. Do not you love me?
  Bene. Troth, no; no more than reason.
  Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula
    Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.
  Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me.
  Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
  Bene. 'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
  Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. 
  Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.
  Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
    For here's a paper written in his hand,
    A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
    Fashion'd to Beatrice.
  Hero. And here's another,
    Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket,
    Containing her affection unto Benedick.
  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. Peace! I will stop your mouth.             [Kisses her.]
  Beat. I'll tell thee what, Prince: a college of wit-crackers
cannot
    flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a
satire or
    an epigram? No. If a man will be beaten with brains, 'a shall
    wear nothing handsome about him. 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.
    For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but
in
    that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruis'd, and love
my
    cousin.
  Claud. I had well hop'd thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that
I
    might have cudgell'd 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.
  Bene. Come, come, we are friends. Let's have a dance ere we are
    married, that we may lighten our own hearts and our wives'
heels.
  Leon. We'll have dancing afterward.
  Bene. First, of my word! Therefore play, music. Prince, thou
art
    sad. Get thee a wife, get thee a wife! There is no staff more
    reverent than one tipp'd with horn.

                       Enter Messenger.

  Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
    And brought with armed men back to Messina.
  Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow. I'll devise thee brave 
    punishments for him. Strike up, pipers!
                                                Dance. [Exeunt.]


THE END

-34-

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"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

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Much Ado About Nothing - Noyemi

By William Shakespeare

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