Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1, Scene 1

I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.

I see from this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon is coming to Messina tonight.

He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him.

He must be very close by now: he was less than three leagues away when I left him.

How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

How many gentlemen have you lost in this campaign?

But few of any sort, and none of name.

Only a few of any rank, and none of any reputation.

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.

A victory is worth double when the winner brings his whole company home. I read here that Don Pedro has given a great deal of honour to a young man from Florence called Claudio.

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.

He richly deserved it, and Don Pedro remembered it just as richly. He has behaved better than anyone his age promised, doing the deeds of a lion in the shape of a lamb: he really has improved on expectation more than you should expect me to be able to describe.

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

He has an uncle here in Messina who will be very glad to hear it.

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.

I have already given him letters, and he shows a great deal of joy in them; so much, in fact, that his joy could not keep itself decently modest without a touch of bitterness to mark it.

Did he break out into tears?

Did he burst into tears?

In great measure.

Plenty of them.

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!

A loving overflow of love. No faces are more honest than the ones washed that way. How much better it is to weep out of joy than to be joyful about weeping!

I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no?

Tell me, please, has Signior Mountanto come back from the wars or not?

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

I know nobody of that name, my lady: there was no such man in the army, of any rank.

What is he that you ask for, niece?

Who is it you are asking about, niece?

My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.

My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.

O! he is returned, and as pleasant as ever he was.

Oh, he has come back, and he is as amusing as he ever was.

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.

He put up public notices here in Messina challenging Cupid to a shooting match with long-range arrows; and my uncle's fool read the challenge, signed on for Cupid, and challenged him to shoot with a blunt bird-arrow instead. Tell me, please, how many has he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many has he killed? Because I did promise to eat everything he killed.

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

Honestly, niece, you attack Signior Benedick too hard; but he'll get even with you, I have no doubt.

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

He has served well, my lady, in these wars.

You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it; he is a very valiant trencher-man; he hath an excellent stomach.

You had stale rations, and he has helped eat them up; he is a very brave man at the dinner plate; he has an excellent appetite.

And a good soldier too, lady.

And a good soldier as well, my lady.

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

And a good soldier when he's with a lady; but what is he when he's with a lord?

A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues.

A lord with a lord, a man with a man; stuffed full of every honourable virtue.

It is so indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man; but for the stuffing,—well, we are all mortal.

That's true enough; he is nothing more than a stuffed man. But as for the stuffing — well, we are all only human.

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.

You mustn't misunderstand my niece, sir. There's a sort of cheerful war going on between Signior Benedick and her; they never meet without a skirmish of wit breaking out between them.

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.

Sadly, he gains nothing by it. In our last battle four of his five wits limped away wounded, and now the whole man is run by the one that's left! So if he has wit enough to keep himself warm, let him keep it as the one mark that tells him apart from his horse; because it's all the property he has left to prove he is a thinking creature. Who's his friend these days? Every month he has a new sworn brother.

Is’t possible?

Is that possible?

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

Perfectly possible: he wears his loyalty the way he wears the style of his hat; it always changes with the newest hat mould.

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

I can see, my lady, that the gentleman is not in your good books.

No; and 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?

No; and if he were, I would burn my whole library. But tell me, please, who is his friend? Is there no young brawler now who will sail with him to the devil?

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

He is most often in the company of the very noble Claudio.

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 he be cured.

Oh Lord, he will cling to him like a disease: he's caught quicker than the plague, and whoever catches him goes mad straight away. God help the noble Claudio! If he has caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pounds before he's cured.

I will hold friends with you, lady.

I mean to stay friends with you, my lady.

Do, good friend.

Please do, good friend.

You will never run mad, niece.

You will never go mad, niece.

No, not till a hot January.

No, not until January turns hot.

Don Pedro is approached.

Don Pedro has arrived.

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

Good Signior Leonato, you have come out to meet your own trouble: the way of the world is to avoid expense, and you go looking for it.

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.

Trouble has never come to my house in your Grace's shape, because when trouble goes, comfort ought to be left behind; but when you leave me, sorrow stays and happiness departs.

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

You take on your burden too gladly. I think this is your daughter.

Her mother hath many times told me so.

Her mother has told me so many times.

Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?

Were you unsure, sir, that you had to ask her?

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

No, Signior Benedick; because back then you were a child.

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.

You've been paid in full, Benedick: we can guess from that what you are now you're a man. Truly, the young lady shows her own fatherhood in her face. Be glad, my lady, since you look like an honourable father.

If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.

Even if Signior Leonato is her father, she wouldn't want his head on her shoulders for all of Messina, however much she looks like him.

I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.

I'm amazed you keep on talking, Signior Benedick: nobody's listening to you.

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

What! My dear Lady Disdain, are you still alive?

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.

How could Disdain possibly die while she has such suitable food to live on as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself has to turn into disdain the moment you come near her.

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.

Then courtesy is a traitor. But one thing is certain: every lady loves me, except you alone; and I wish I could honestly feel that my heart was not so hard, because the truth is I love none of them.

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 that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

That's a precious piece of luck for women: otherwise they'd have been bothered by a destructive suitor. I thank God and my cold blood that I feel the same way as you about it. I would rather hear my dog bark at a crow than hear a man swear he loves me.

God keep your Ladyship still in that mind; so some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face.

May God keep your Ladyship in that frame of mind; then some gentleman or other will escape the scratched face fate had in store for him.

Scratching could not make it worse, and ’twere such a face as yours were.

Scratching couldn't make it any worse, if it were a face like yours.

Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

Well, you are an exceptional teacher of parrots.

A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

A bird that talks like me is better than an animal that talks like you.

I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i’ God’s name; I have done.

I wish my horse had your tongue's speed, and could keep it up as long. But carry on, in God's name; I've finished.

You always end with a jade’s trick: I know you of old.

You always finish with a worn-out horse's trick: I've known that about you for a long time.

That is the sum of all, Leonato: Signior Claudio, and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at the least a month, and he heartly prays some occasion may detain us longer: I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart.

That's the whole of it, Leonato. Signior Claudio and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato has invited all of you. I tell him we shall stay here at least a month, and he sincerely hopes something will happen to keep us longer: I'd swear he's no hypocrite, but prays for it from his heart.

If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. [To Don John] Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the Prince your brother, I owe you all duty.

If you swear it, my lord, you won't be proved a liar. [To Don John] Let me welcome you, my lord: now that you are reconciled with the Prince your brother, I owe you every duty.

I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you.

Thank you: I'm not a man of many words, but thank you.

Please it your Grace lead on?

Would your Grace be willing to lead the way?

Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.

Give me your hand, Leonato; we'll go in together.

Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?

Benedick, did you notice Signior Leonato's daughter?

I noted her not; but I looked on her.

I didn't take note of her, but I did look at her.

Is she not a modest young lady?

Isn't she a modest young lady?

Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?

Are you asking me, the way an honest man should, for my plain, honest opinion? Or do you want me to speak the way I usually do, as a declared enemy of their whole sex?

No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.

No; please, give me your serious opinion.

Why, i’ faith, methinks she’s too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise; only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome, and being no other but as she is, I do not like her.

Well, honestly, I think she's too short for high praise, too dark for fair praise, and too small for great praise. The only recommendation I can give her is this: if she were anything other than she is, she would be ugly, and since she is nothing other than what she is, I don't like her.

Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her.

You think I'm joking. Please tell me truly how you like her.

Would you buy her, that you enquire after her?

Are you looking to buy her, since you're making enquiries about her?

Can the world buy such a jewel?

Could all the world buy such a jewel?

Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow, or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song?

Yes, and a case to put it in as well. But are you saying this with a serious face, or are you playing the mocking joker, telling us that Cupid is a good hunter of hares and Vulcan an excellent carpenter? Come on, in what key should a man take you, so he can join in the song?

In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.

In my eyes she is the sweetest lady I have ever looked at.

I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such matter: there’s her cousin and she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?

I can still see without glasses, and I see nothing of the kind. There's her cousin, who, if she weren't taken over by a fury, would surpass her in beauty as much as the first of May surpasses the last of December. But I hope you don't intend to turn into a husband, do you?

I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn to the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

I could hardly trust myself, even if I had sworn the opposite, if Hero would be my wife.

Is’t come to this, in faith? Hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i’ faith; and thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away Sundays.

Has it really come to this? Is there not one man in the world who won't wear his cap to hide his suspicions? Will I never see a sixty-year-old bachelor again? Go on, then; if you really must shove your neck into a yoke, wear the mark of it and spend your Sundays sighing.

Look! Don Pedro is returned to seek you.

Look! Don Pedro has come back to look for you.

What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato’s?

What secret has kept you here, instead of following on to Leonato's?

I would your Grace would constrain me to tell.

I wish your Grace would force me to tell it.

I charge thee on thy allegiance.

I order you to, on your oath of loyalty.

You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb man; I would have you think so; but on my allegiance mark you this, on my allegiance: he is in love. With who? now that is your Grace’s part. Mark how short his answer is: with Hero, Leonato’s short daughter.

You hear that, Count Claudio: I can keep a secret like a man with no tongue; I want you to believe that. But on my loyalty, note this, on my loyalty: he is in love. With whom? Now that's your Grace's part of the question. Notice how short his answer is: with Hero, Leonato's short daughter.

If this were so, so were it uttered.

If this were true, that's how it would have been told.

Like the old tale, my lord: ‘it is not so, nor ’twas not so; but indeed, God forbid it should be so.’

Like the old story, my lord: 'it is not so, nor was it so; but indeed, God forbid it should be so.'

If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise.

Unless my feelings change soon, God forbid it should be any other way.

Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.

Amen, if you love her; because the lady is thoroughly deserving.

You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.

You say that to trap me, my lord.

By my troth, I speak my thought.

On my word, I'm saying what I think.

And in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.

And honestly, my lord, I said what I think.

And by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.

And by both my words and my honour, my lord, I said what I think.

That I love her, I feel.

That I love her, I feel.

That she is worthy, I know.

That she is worthy, I know.

That I neither feel how she should be loved, nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake.

That I neither feel how she could be loved, nor know how she could be worthy, is an opinion that fire cannot melt out of me: I will die holding it at the stake.

Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty.

You were always a stubborn heretic in your scorn for beauty.

And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will.

And he never could hold up his side of an argument except by sheer stubbornness.

That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks; but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is,—for the which I may go the finer,—I will live a bachelor.

That a woman conceived me, I thank her for; that she brought me up, I likewise give her my most humble thanks. But as for having a hunting horn blown on my forehead, or hanging my horn from an invisible belt, all women will have to excuse me. Since I won't do them the wrong of distrusting any one of them, I will do myself the favour of trusting none of them. And the upshot is — and I may dress the finer for it — I will live as a bachelor.

I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.

Before I die, I'll see you looking pale with love.

With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker’s pen and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of blind Cupid.

Pale with anger, with illness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love. If you can ever prove that I lose more blood through love than I can replace with drinking, then put out my eyes with a ballad-writer's pen and hang me up over a brothel door as the sign of blind Cupid.

Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument.

Well, if you ever do fall away from this faith, you'll make a famous example.

If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and called Adam.

If I do, hang me up in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and whoever hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and called a great archer, Adam.

Well, as time shall try: ‘In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.’

Well, time will put it to the test: 'In time the savage bull comes to bear the yoke.'

The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull’s horns and set them in my forehead; and let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write, ‘Here is good horse to hire,’ let them signify under my sign ‘Here you may see Benedick the married man.’

The savage bull may; but if the sensible Benedick ever bears it, tear off the bull's horns and stick them on my forehead; and let somebody paint a hideous picture of me, and in letters as big as the ones they use for 'Good horse for hire,' let them write under my portrait, 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'

If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.

If that ever happened, you'd be mad as a horned bull.

Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.

Well, unless Cupid has used up every arrow in his quiver in Venice, you'll be trembling for this before long.

I look for an earthquake too then.

Then I expect there will be an earthquake too.

Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato’s: commend me to him and tell him I will not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made great preparation.

Well, you'll come round with time. In the meantime, good Signior Benedick, go along to Leonato's: give him my regards and tell him I won't miss him at supper, since he has indeed gone to great trouble to prepare.

I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and so I commit you—

I have just about enough substance in me for such an errand; and so I commit you—

To the tuition of God: from my house, if I had it,—

To God's keeping. From my house, if I had one—

The sixth of July: your loving friend, Benedick.

The sixth of July. Your loving friend, Benedick.

Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience: and so I leave you.

No, don't mock, don't mock. Your talk is sometimes trimmed with borrowed scraps, and the trimmings are only loosely tacked on at that. Before you jeer at old tag-lines any further, look into your own conscience. And so I'll leave you.

My liege, your Highness now may do me good.

My lord, your Highness could do me a great favour now.

My love is thine to teach: teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

My love is yours to instruct: just teach it how, and you'll see how ready it is to learn any difficult lesson that might do you good.

Hath Leonato any son, my lord?

Does Leonato have a son, my lord?

No child but Hero; she’s his only heir. Dost thou affect her, Claudio?

No child but Hero; she's his only heir. Are you in love with her, Claudio?

O! my lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I looked upon her with a soldier’s eye, That lik’d, but had a rougher task in hand Than to drive liking to the name of love; But now I am return’d, and that war-thoughts Have left their places vacant, in their rooms Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting me how fair young Hero is, Saying, I lik’d her ere I went to wars.

Oh, my lord, when you set out on this campaign that is now over, I looked at her with a soldier's eye, which liked what it saw but had a harder job in hand than pushing that liking on to the name of love. But now I have come back, and now that thoughts of war have left their places empty, into those rooms crowd soft and delicate desires, all reminding me how lovely young Hero is, telling me that I liked her before I went to the wars.

Thou wilt be like a lover presently, And tire the hearer with a book of words. If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, And I will break with her, and with her father, And thou shalt have her. Was’t not to this end That thou began’st to twist so fine a story?

You'll be behaving like a lover any moment now, and wearing out your listener with a whole book of words. If you do love fair Hero, hold on to it, and I will raise the matter with her and with her father, and you shall have her. Wasn't this the point you were aiming at, when you started spinning such a fine story?

How sweetly you do minister to love, That know love’s grief by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sudden seem, I would have salv’d it with a longer treatise.

How sweetly you treat love's sickness, you who know love's pain just by the look of it! But in case my liking might seem too sudden, I would have soothed it over with a longer speech.

What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity. Look, what will serve is fit: ’tis once, thou lov’st, And I will fit thee with the remedy. I know we shall have revelling tonight: I will assume thy part in some disguise, And tell fair Hero I am Claudio; And in her bosom I’ll unclasp my heart, And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong encounter of my amorous tale: Then after to her father will I break; And the conclusion is, she shall be thine. In practice let us put it presently.

Why does the bridge need to be much wider than the stream? What is necessary is the best reason to give. Look, whatever serves the purpose is right: the fact is, you're in love, and I will supply you with the cure. I know we shall have festivities tonight: I will take your part in some disguise, and tell fair Hero that I am Claudio; and in her arms I'll unlock my heart to her, and take her ear prisoner with the force and strong assault of my loving speech. Then afterwards I'll broach it with her father; and the end of it is, she shall be yours. Let's put it into practice right away.