Outline
Characters
Dreamweaver
[Enter Hero, Margaret and Ursula.]
Hero
Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise.
Ursula
I will, lady.
Hero
And bid her come hither.
Ursula
Well.
[Exit.]
Margaret
Troth, I think your other rebato were better.
Hero
No, pray thee, good Meg, I’ll wear this.
Margaret
By my troth’s not so good; and I warrant your cousin will say so.
Hero
My cousin’s a fool, and thou art another: I’ll
wear none but this.
Margaret
I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought
browner; and your gown’s a most rare fashion, i’ faith. I saw the
Duchess of Milan’s gown that they praise so.
Hero
O! that exceeds, they say.
Margaret
By my troth ’s but a night-gown in respect of yours: cloth o’ gold, and
cuts, and laced with silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side
sleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a bluish tinsel; but for a
fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on’t.
Hero
God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is exceeding heavy.
Margaret
’Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.
Hero
Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?
Margaret
Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a
beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think you would
have me say, saving your reverence, ‘a husband:’ an 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: ask my Lady
Beatrice else; here she comes.
[Enter Beatrice.]
Hero
Good morrow, coz.
Beatrice
Good morrow, sweet Hero.
Hero
Why, how now? do you speak in the sick tune?
Beatrice
I am out of all other tune, methinks.
Margaret
Clap’s into ‘Light o’ love’; that goes
without a burden: do you sing it, and I’ll dance it.
Beatrice
Ye, light o’ love with your heels! then, if your husband
have stables enough, you’ll see he shall lack no barnes.
Margaret
O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
Beatrice
’Tis almost five o’clock, cousin; ’tis time
you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill. Heigh-ho!
Margaret
For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
Beatrice
For the letter that begins them all, H.
Margaret
Well, and you be not turned Turk, there’s no more
sailing by the star.
Beatrice
What means the fool, trow?
Margaret
Nothing I; but God send everyone their heart’s desire!
Hero
These gloves the Count sent me; they are an excellent perfume.
Beatrice
I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell.
Margaret
A maid, and stuffed! there’s goodly catching of cold.
Beatrice
O, God help me! God help me! how long have you professed
apprehension?
Margaret
Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely!
Beatrice
It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By
my troth, I am sick.
Margaret
Get you some of this distilled Carduus benedictus, and lay it to
your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.
Hero
There thou prick’st her with a thistle.
Beatrice
Benedictus! why benedictus? you have some moral in this
benedictus.
Margaret
Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain
holy thistle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love: nay,
by’r 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 would 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 Benedick was such another, and now is he
become a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet now, in despite of
his heart, he eats his meat without grudging: and how you may be
converted, I know not; but methinks you look with your eyes as other women
do.
Beatrice
What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Margaret
Not a false gallop.
[Re-enter Ursula.]
Ursula
Madam, withdraw: the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don
John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church.
Hero
Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.
[Exeunt.]