much ado about nothing(无事生非)-第6章
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Leon。 This says she now when she is beginning to write to him； for
she'll be up twenty times a night； and there will she sit in her smock till
she have writ a sheet of paper。 My daughter tells us all。
Claud。 Now you talk of a sheet of paper； I remember a pretty jest your
daughter told us of。
Leon。 O； when she had writ it； and was reading it over； she found
'Benedick' and 'Beatrice' between the sheet？
Claud。 That。
Leon。 O； she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence； rail'd 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。'
Claud。 Then down upon her knees she falls； weeps； sobs； beats her
heart； tears her hair； prays； curses'O sweet Benedick！ God give me
patience！'
Leon。 She doth indeed； my daughter says so。 And the ecstasy hath so
much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard she will do a
desperate outrage to herself。 It is very true。
Pedro。 It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other； if she will
not discover it。
Claud。 To what end？ He would make but a sport of it and torment the
poor lady worse。
Pedro。 An he should； it were an alms to hang him！ She's an excellent
sweet lady； and （out of all suspicion） she is virtuous。
Claud。 And she is exceeding wise。
Pedro。 In everything but in loving Benedick。
Leon。 O； my lord； wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body；
we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory。 I am sorry for her； as
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I have just cause； being her uncle and her guardian。
Pedro。 I would she had bestowed this dotage on me。 I would have
daff'd all other respects and made her half myself。 I pray you tell Benedick
of it and hear what 'a will say。
Leon。 Were it good； think you？
Claud。 Hero thinks surely she will die； for she says she will die if he
love her not； and she will die ere she make her love known； and she will
die； if he woo her； rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed
crossness。
Pedro。 She doth well。 If she should make tender of her love； 'tis very
possible he'll scorn it； for the man （as you know all） hath a contemptible
spirit。
Claud。 He is a very proper man。
Pedro。 He hath indeed a good outward happiness。
Claud。 Before God！ and in my mind； very wise。
Pedro。 He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit。
Claud。 And I take him to be valiant。
Pedro。 As Hector； I assure you； and 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 Christianlike fear。
Leon。 If he do fear God； 'a must necessarily keep peace。 If he break the
peace； he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling。
Pedro。 And so will he do； for the man doth fear God； howsoever it
seems not in him by some large jests he will make。 Well； I am sorry for
your niece。 Shall we go seek Benedick and tell him of her love？
Claud。 Never tell him； my lord。 Let her wear it out with good counsel。
Leon。 Nay； that's impossible； she may wear her heart out first。
Pedro。 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。
Leon。 My lord； will you walk？ Dinner is ready。
＇They walk away。＇
Claud。 If he dote on her upon this； I will never trust my expectation。
Pedro。 Let there be the same net spread for her； and that must your
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daughter and her gentlewomen carry。 The sport will be； when they hold
one an opinion of another's dotage； and no such matter。 That's the scene
that I would see； which will be merely a dumb show。 Let us send her to
call him in to dinner。
＇Exeunt Don Pedro； Claudio； and Leonato。＇
＇Benedick advances from the arbour。＇
Bene。 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 censur'd。 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 meby 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 have railed so long against
marriage。 But doth not the appetite alters？ 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 humour？ 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。
＇Enter Beatrice。＇
Here comes Beatrice。 By this day； she's a fair lady！ I do spy some
marks of love in her。
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 knives point； and
choke a daw withal。 You have no stomach； signior。 Fare you well。 ＇Exit。＇
Bene。 Ha！ 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner。'
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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。＇
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ACT III。
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SCENE I。
Leonato's orchard。
＇Enter Hero and two Gentlewomen； 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 Ursley 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； ripened 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。
＇Enter Beatrice。＇
Now begin； For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs Close by the
ground； to hear our conference。
＇Beatrice hides in the arbour＇。
Urs。 The pleasant'st 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 approach the arbour。＇
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？
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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 high
