READ STUDY GUIDE: Act III, scenes i–ii |
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Act III, Scene i:
Leonardo's Garden.
Leonardo's Garden.
| [Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.] |
| Hero. : |
| Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour; |
| There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice |
| Proposing 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 overheard'st us; |
| And bid her steal into 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:—there will she hide her |
| To listen our propose: This is thy office, |
| Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. |
| Marg. : |
| I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. |
| [Exit.] |
| Hero. : |
| Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, |
| As we do trace this alley up and down, |
| 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. Now begin; |
| [Enter Beatrice, behind.] |
| For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs |
| Close by the ground to hear our conference. |
| Urs. : |
| The pleasantest angling is to see the fish |
| Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, |
| And greedily devour the treacherous bait: |
| So angle we for Beatrice; who even now |
| Is couched in the woodbine coverture: |
| Fear you not my part of the dialogue. |
| Hero. : |
| Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing |
| Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.— |
| [They advance to the bower.] |
| No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful. |
| I know her spirits are as coy and wild |
| As haggards of the rock. |
| Urs. : |
| But are you sure, |
| That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? |
| Hero. : |
| So says the prince, and my new-trothed lord. |
| Urs. : |
| And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? |
| Hero. : |
| They did entreat me to acquaint her of it: |
| But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick, |
| To wish him wrestle with affection, |
| And never to let Beatrice know of it. |
| Urs. : |
| Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman |
| Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed, |
| As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? |
| Hero. : |
| O God of love! I know he doth deserve |
| As much as may be yielded to a man: |
| But Nature never fram'd a woman's heart |
| Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. |
| Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, |
| Misprizing what they look on; and her wit |
| 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. |
| Urs. : |
| Sure, I think so; |
| And therefore, certainly, it were not good |
| She knew his love, lest she'll make sport at it. |
| Hero. : |
| Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw man, |
| How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, |
| But she would spell him backward: if fair-fac'd, |
| She would swear the gentleman should be her sister; |
| If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic, |
| Made a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed; |
| If low, an agate very vilely cut; |
| If speaking, why, 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. |
| Urs. : |
| Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. |
| Hero. : |
| 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; O, she would laugh me |
| Out of myself, press me to death with wit. |
| Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, |
| Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: |
| It were a better death than die with mocks; |
| Which is as bad as die with tickling. |
| Urs. : |
| Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say. |
| Hero. : |
| 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. |
| Urs. : |
| O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. |
| She cannot be so much without true judgment, |
| (Having so swift and excellent a wit |
| As she is priz'd to have) as to refuse |
| So rare a gentleman as signior Benedick. |
| Hero. : |
| He is the only man of Italy, |
| Always excepted my dear Claudio. |
| Urs. : |
| I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, |
| Speaking my fancy; signior Benedick, |
| For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour, |
| Goes foremost in report through Italy. |
| Hero. : |
| Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. |
| Urs. : |
| His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. |
| When are you married, madam? |
| Hero. : |
| Why, every day;—to-morrow: Come, go in; |
| I'll show thee some attires; and have thy counsel, |
| Which is the best to furnish me to morrow. |
| Urs. : |
| She's ta'en, I warrant you; we have caught her, madam. |
| Hero. : |
| If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: |
| Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. |
| [Exeunt Hero and Ursula.] |
| [Beatrice advances.] |
| Beat. : |
| What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? |
| Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much? |
| Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu! |
| No glory lives behind the back of such. |
| 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. |
| [Exit.] |
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