[Exeunt ISAB. and two Apparitors. In this I'll be impartial; be you judge [The DUKE and ANGELO sit. Enter MARIANA, veiled, and Friar PETER. Is this the witness, friar? First, let her show her face; and, after, speak. Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face Until my husband bid me. What, are you married? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid? A widow, then? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, you [wife? Are nothing, then :-Neither maid, widow, nor Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow: I would he had Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witness for Lord Angelo. In sclf-same manner doth accuse my husband? Mari. Not that I know. Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. [Unveiling. [on: This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, That took away the match from Isabel, And did supply thee at thy garden-house, Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, she says. Duke. Sirrah, no more! Lucio. Enough, my lord. Ang. My lord, I must confess I know this [marriage And, five years since, there was some speech of woman: Betwixt myself and her: which was broke off, In levity: since which time of five years, [her, Mari. Let me in safety raise me from my knees; [Rises. Duke. Ay, with my heart; And punish them unto your height of pleasure. [The DUKE rises. Thou foolish friar; and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone! think'st thou thy oaths, [saint, Though they would swear down each particular Were testimonies against his worth and credit, That's seal'd in approbation?-You, Lord Escalus, Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains To find out this abuse, whence 'tis deriv’d: There is another friar that set them on; Let him be sent for. F. Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he, indeed, Hath set the women on to this complaint: Your provost knows the place where he abides, And he may fetch him. have Duke. Go, do it instantly.- [Exit Prov. And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, Do with your injuries as seems you best, In any chastisement. I for a while Will leave you; stir not you, till you Well determin'd upon these slanderers. Escal. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly. [Exit DUKE.-ANGELO and ESCALUS sit. Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum: honest in nothing, but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villainous speeches of the duke. Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a notable fellow. Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word. Escal. Know you that Friar Lodowick, that he speaks of? F. Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy; Not saucy, nor a temporary meddler, But at this instant he is sick, my lord, (Being come to knowledge that there was complaint Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo), came I hither, To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know Is true, and false; and what he with his oath, And all probation, will make up full clear, Whensoever he's convented.* Escal. Call that same Isabel here once again. [Exit a Gentleman.] I would speak with her. 'Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how I'll handle her. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Enter the Gentleman, ISABELLA, and two Apparitors. Escal. Come on, mistress; here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have said. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of; here with the provost. Escal. In very good time: speak not you to him till we call upon you. Lucio. Mum. Enter the DUKE, as a Friar, and Provost. Escal. Come, sir: did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? They have confess'd you did. Duke. 'Tis false. Escal. How! know you where you are? [devil Duke. Respect to your great place! and let the Be sometime honoured for his burning throne! Where is the duke? 'tis he should hear me speak. Escal. The duke's in us; and we will hear you Look you speak justly. [speak: Duke: Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls, Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox? Good-night to your redress. Is the duke gone? Then is your cause gone too. The duke's unjust, Thus to retort your manifest appeal, And put your trial in the villain's mouth, Which here you come to accuse. Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. Is 't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women Joint by joint, but we will know this purpose: Duke. Be not so hot: the duke Dare no more stretch this finger of mine, than he Duke. I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice: I met you at the prison, in the absence of the duke. Lucio. O, did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke? Duke. Most notedly, sir. Lucio. Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? Duke. You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and much more, much worse. Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches? [myself. Duke. I protest I love the duke as I love Ang. Hark how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses. Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal: vost?-Away with him to prison; lay bolts -Away with him to prison :-Where is the proenough upon him: let him speak no more :Away with those giglots + too, and with the other confederate companion. [The Provost lays hands on the DUKE. Duke. Stay, sir; stay awhile. Ang. What! resists he? Help him, Lucio. Lucio. Come, sir; come, sir :-Why, you baldpated, lying rascal! you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's visage! show your sheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour! Will't not off! [Pulls off the Friar's habit, and discovers the DUKE. Duke. Thou art the first knave that e'er mad'st a duke. First, provost, let me bail these gentle three :- Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, Ang. O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive your grace, like pow'r divine, Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession: Immediate sentence then, and sequent? death, Is all the grace I beg. Duke. Come hither, Mariana :Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? Ang. I was, my lord. [stantly.Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her inDo you the office, friar; which, consummate, Return him here again :-Go with him, provost. [Exeunt ANG., MARI., PETER, and Prov. Escal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour, Than at the strangeness of it. Duke. Come hither, Isabel. Isab. O give me pardon, [She kneels. That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd Your unknown sovereignty. Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel: [Raises her. And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart; And you may marvel why I obscur'd myself, Labouring to save his life; and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden pow'r, Than let him so be lost: O most kind maid, It was the swift celerity of his death, Which I did think with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: But peace be with him! That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear: make it your I hope you will not mock me with a husband! Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband: Consenting to the safeguard of your honour, His fault thus manifested, Away with him to death. [Guards draw their swords, advancing. Mari. O, my good lord!-Sweet Isabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my life to come Duke. Against all sense you do importune her: Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror. Sweet Isabel! do yet but kneel by me :- A due sincerity governed his deeds, [Kneeling. Let him not die. My brother had but justice In that he did the thing for which he died: For Angelo, [jects, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent, Mari. Duke. Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.[They rise. I have bethought me of another fault:Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded At an unusual hour? Prov. Duke. For which I do discharge you of your For testimony whereof, one in the prison, His name is Barnardine. Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.Go, fetch him hither ; let me look upon him. [Exit Prov. into the City. Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. Ang. I am sorry that such sorrow I procure: And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy; 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. Enter Provost, BARNARDINE, and CLAUDIO, muffled, from the City. Duke. Which is that Barnardine? Prov. Duke. There was a friar told me of this man :Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul, That apprehends no further than this world, And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd; But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all [Exeunt BARNARDINE and Friar PETER, What muffled fellow's that? Prov. This is another prisoner that I sav'd, Who should have died when Claudio lost his head, As like almost to Claudio as himself. Duke. [To ISABELLA.] If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardon'd. [CLAUDIO discovers himself,- And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon :- That you extol me thus? Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick: If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had rather it would please you I might be whipp'd. Duke. Whipp'd first, sir, and hang'd after. Proclaim it, provost, round about the city; If any woman's wrong'd by this lewd fellow, (As I have heard him swear himself there's one Whom he begot with child,) let her appear, And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd, Let him be whipp'd and hang'd. Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a punk! Your highness said even now, I made you a duke; good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold. Duke. Upon mine honour thou shalt marry her. Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits :-Take him to prison: And see our pleasure herein executed. Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging. Duke. Sir, Slandering a prince deserves it. [Exeunt LUCIO and two Apparitors, Thoughtless practice. She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore. Thy Duke, thy Friar, tempts thee from thy vow: INTRODUCTION TO MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. [Exeunt. THE serious incidents of this admirable comedy | are to be traced in a novel of Bandello's; thus analysed by Mr. Skottowe :-Fenicia, the daughter of Lionato, a gentleman of Messina, is betrothed to Timbreo de Cardona. Girondo, a disappointed lover of the young lady, resolves, if possible, to prevent the marriage. He insinuates to Timbreo that his mistress is disloyal, and offers to show him a stranger scaling her chamber window. Timbreo accepts the invitation, and witnesses the hired servant of Girondo, in the dress of a gentleman, ascending a ladder, and entering the house of Lionato. Stung with rage and jealousy, Timbreo, the next morning, accuses his innocent mistress to her father, and rejects the alliance. Fenicia sinks into a swoon; a dangerous illness succeeds; and, to stifle all reports injurious to her fame, Lionato proclaims that she is dead. Her funeral rites are performed in Messina, while in truth she lies concealed in the obscurity of a country residence. The thought of having occasioned the death of an innocent and lovely woman, strikes Girondo with horror. In the agony of remorse, he confesses his villany to Timbreo, and they both throw themselves on the mercy, and ask forgiveness, of the insulted family of Fenicia. On Timbreo is merely imposed the penance of espousing a lady whose face he should not see previous to his marriage; but instead of a new bride, he is presented at the nup-moured of Hero, the daughter of Leonato, and tial altar with his injured and beloved Fenicia. by the ascent of a silken ladder. The remainder of the tale has nothing in common with the play. The ladder, and nothing but the ladder, is Shakespearian; unless, perhaps, we except the incident of the maid personating the mistress at the window, which also occurs in a variation of the tale in Spenser; and, if borrowed (an unnecessary supposition), was probably derived from the latter source. Harrington, at the end of the translation of the fifth book, seems to think the story of Genevra had an historical origin. "Some others affirme," he says, "that this very matter, though set down here by other names, happened in Ferrara to a kinsewoman of the dukes, which is here figured under the name of Genevra, and that indeede such a practise was used against her by a great lord, and discovered by a damsel, as is here set down: howsoever it was, sure the tale is a pretie comicall matter, and hath bin written in English verse some few years past, learnedly and with good grace, though in verse of another kind, by M. George Turbervil." The translation here alluded to, is not now known to exist. This simple love-tale is, as far as we know at present, the sole origin of the comedy. A story of a similar character, but not containing so many incidents used by Shakespeare, is related in the fifth book of the Orlando Furioso, which was translated into English by Harrington in 1591, containing the tale of Genevra and Ariodant. Ariosto's story was also versified in English by Beverley, and published in 1565; and we learn from Mr. Collier the curious information, that a play on the subject, entitled A History of Ariodante and Genevora, was exhibited by "Mulcaster's children" in 1582-'3. No English translation of Bandello's tale has yet been discovered. THE PLOT.-Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon, returning from the wars, accompanied by Count Claudio and Benedick, two young lords, his favourites, comes upon a month's visit to Leonato, governor of Messina. Claudio becomes enaimparts his love to the Prince, who agrees to woo the lady by proxy at a masquerade given by her father, and to obtain her consent to his friend's suit. In the meanwhile, Don John, a bastard brother of the Prince, envious of the degree of favour in which Claudio is held by his brother, consults with Borachio and Conrad, two creatures of his own, how he may best and most safely thwart the happiness of Claudio, whose marriage with Hero is to take place on that day week. On the day preceding the nuptials, he waits upon the Prince and Claudio, and, with a show of seeming friendship, warns the latter against the marriage, stating that Hero is unchaste, and offering to supply proof of it. By a contrivance of his own, they overhear Borachio Ariosto's tale was regarded by Pope, but I addressing Margaret, an attendant upon Hero, think erroneously, as the real source of Shake- at her window; and the Prince and Claudio are speare's play. It will be seen, from the following led to believe that their doubts have been conanalysis, that it has far inferior claims to Ban- firmed. Claudio, as the ceremony is about to dello for that honour :-Rinaldo, sailing to Eng-proceed, denounces Hero before her father, the land, was driven by a violent storm on the coast of Scotland; and, journeying by himself in that country, was entertained at an abbey, where he heard that Genevra, the king's daughter, was accused of incontinence by Lurcanio, the brother of Ariodant. It was the law, that they who were charged with that crime, notwithstanding their rank, should be burnt to death, unless a champion undertook their defence in combat against the accuser within the space of a month. Rinaldo undertakes the combat; and finds, by accident, the servant by whose connivance Genevra's guilt had been established, to the satisfaction of Ariodant, Friar, and the whole company, and abruptly retires with the Prince, leaving Hero in a swoon. The Friar, who was about to join the hands of the young couple, counsels the distracted Leonato to give out that his daughter is dead, until it shall be proved whether she is innocent or guilty. In the interim, Borachio and Conrade are overheard, by the watch, conversing about the conspiracy; during which conversation, Borachio tells his friend how much he has received from Don John for the success of his villany. They are taken up, and the whole plot is discovered. Leonato, upon this, informs Claudio, that his 1 1 own daughter being dead, if Claudio will consent to wed the daughter of his brother Antonio, his revenge will be satisfied. Claudio, stricken with remorse, consents, and is married to Hero, who, unveiling, discovers herself to her lover. The underplot, which softens down the painful interest of the main design, is certainly the most delightful portion of the play. Benedick, the wit, the humorist, the gentleman, and the soldier, is a professed railer against the female sex; but is encountered by Beatrice, the cousin of Hero, who, on her part, is by no means disposed to recognise the supremacy of the lords of the creation. Benedick overhears a conversation between the Prince, Claudio, and Leonato, in which the love of Beatrice towards him is dwelt upon; whilst a similar deceit is practised upon Beatrice by Hero, and one of her attendants. Each believes the story, and, conscious of the worth of the other, is entrapped into a love-match, which terminates in marriage. MORAL.There may probably be said to be two morals in this play. In the first instance, we are shown how suddenly, and by what unforeseen accidents, the most cunningly devised calumny may be discovered, and how certainly virtue will at last be rewarded; and in the case of Benedick and Beatrice, we may learn the folly of affecting feelings which only serve to conceal our real nature from ourselves, and which may prevent our happiness, if they do not destroy it. Much Ado about Nothing. Persons Represented. DON PEDRO, Prince of Arragon. BENEDICK, a young Lord of Padua, favourite LEONATO, Governor of Messina. ANTONIO, his Brother. BALTHAZAR, Servant to Don Pedro. BORACHIO, Followers of Don John. Act First. SCENE.-Messina. SCENE I.-Before LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others, 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. [this action? Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in 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 deserved on his part, and equally remembered 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 bettered 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? Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping? Beat. I pray you, is Signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? * Abundance. 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. [he was. Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.-I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? 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. [wars. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man; 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. 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 is 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 governed 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. H |