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Much Ado about Nothing
Much Ado about Nothing
Much Ado about Nothing
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Much Ado about Nothing

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Much Ado About Nothing is generally considered one of Shakespeare's best comedies, because it combines elements of robust hilarity with more serious meditations on honor, shame, and court politics.
The play includes two quite different stories of romantic love. Hero and Claudio fall in love almost at first sight, but an outsider, Don J

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 29, 2017
ISBN9786069835357
Author

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare is the world's greatest ever playwright. Born in 1564, he split his time between Stratford-upon-Avon and London, where he worked as a playwright, poet and actor. In 1582 he married Anne Hathaway. Shakespeare died in 1616 at the age of fifty-two, leaving three children—Susanna, Hamnet and Judith. The rest is silence.

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    Much Ado about Nothing - William Shakespeare

    MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

    by William Shakespeare

    Dramatis Personae

      Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon.

      Don John, his bastard brother.

      Claudio, a young lord of Florence.

      Benedick, a Young lord of Padua.

      Leonato, Governor of Messina.

      Antonio, an old man, his brother.

      Balthasar, attendant on Don Pedro.

      Borachio, follower of Don John.

      Conrade, follower of Don John.

      Friar Francis.

      Dogberry, a Constable.

      Verges, a Headborough.

      A Sexton.

      A Boy.

      Hero, daughter to Leonato.

      Beatrice, niece to Leonato.

      Margaret, waiting gentlewoman attending on Hero.

      Ursula, waiting gentlewoman attending on Hero.

    Messengers, Watch, Attendants, etc.

    SCENE. ‒ Messina.

    ACT I. Scene I. An orchard before Leonato's house.

    Enter Leonato (Governor of Messina), Hero (his Daughter), and Beatrice (his Niece), with a Messenger.

      Leon. I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this

        night to Messina.

      Mess. He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I

        left him.

    Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

    Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name.

    Leon. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.

    Mess. Much deserv'd on his part, and equally rememb'red by Don Pedro. He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed better bett'red expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.

    Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

    Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.

    Leon. Did he break out into tears?

    Mess. In great measure.

    Leon. A kind overflow of kindness. There are no faces truer than those that are so wash'd. How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!

    Beat. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the wars or no?

    Mess. I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in the army of any sort.

    Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?

    Hero. My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.

    Mess. O, he's return'd, and as pleasant as ever he was.

    Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina and challeng'd Cupid at the flight, and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid and challeng'd him at the burbolt. I pray you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he kill'd? For indeed I promised to eat all of his killing.

    Leon. Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.

    Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

    Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it. He is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach.

    Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.

    Beat. And a good soldier to a lady; but what is he to a lord?

      Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuff'd with all honourable

        virtues.

      Beat. It is so indeed. He is no less than a stuff'd man; but for

        the stuffing ‒ well, we are all mortal.

    Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her. They never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them.

    Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that! In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man govern'd with one; so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.

    Mess. Is't possible?

    Beat. Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.

    Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.

    Beat. No. An he were, I would burn my study. But I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?

    Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

    Beat. O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease! He is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! If he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere 'a be cured.

    Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady.

    Beat. Do, good friend.

    Leon. You will never run mad, niece.

    Beat. No, not till a hot January.

    Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

    Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, and John the Bastard.

    Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet your trouble? The fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.

    Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your Grace; for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

    Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is your daughter.

    Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so.

    Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you ask'd her?

    Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.

    Pedro. You have it full, Benedick. We may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an honourable father.

      Bene. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head

        on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.

      Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick.

        Nobody marks you.

    Bene. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?

      Beat. Is it possible Disdain should die while she hath such meet

        food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert

        to disdain if you come in her presence.

      Bene. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of

        all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my

        heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.

    Beat. A dear happiness to women! They would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for

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