Much Ado About Nothing, Act 3, Scene 4

Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise.

Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and ask her to get up.

I will, lady.

I will, my lady.

And bid her come hither.

And tell her to come here.

Well.

All right.

Troth, I think your other rebato were better.

Honestly, I think your other collar would be better.

No, pray thee, good Meg, I’ll wear this.

No, please, good Meg, I'll wear this one.

By my troth’s not so good; and I warrant your cousin will say so.

Honestly, it isn't as good; and I promise you your cousin will say so too.

My cousin’s a fool, and thou art another: I’ll wear none but this.

My cousin's a fool, and you're another: I'll wear nothing but this one.

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.

I like the new headdress inside extremely well, if only the hair were a shade browner; and your gown is a most unusual fashion, truly. I saw the Duchess of Milan's gown that everyone praises so much.

O! that exceeds, they say.

Oh, that one is beyond compare, they say.

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.

Honestly, it's nothing but a nightgown compared with yours: cloth of gold, and slashes, and trimmed with silver, set with pearls, hanging sleeves, side sleeves, and skirts all round, lined underneath with a bluish tinsel; but for a fine, elegant, graceful and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten of it.

God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is exceeding heavy.

God give me joy in wearing it! For my heart is extremely heavy.

’Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

It will be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

Shame on you! Aren't you ashamed?

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.

Of what, my lady? Of speaking respectably? Isn't marriage respectable, even in a beggar? Isn't your lord respectable without being married? I think you'd have me say, if you'll pardon the word, 'a husband': if dirty thinking doesn't twist honest speaking, I'll give nobody offence. Is there any harm in 'the heavier for a husband'? None, I think, so long as it's the right husband and the right wife; otherwise it's light, not heavy. Ask my Lady Beatrice if you doubt it; here she comes.

Good morrow, coz.

Good morning, cousin.

Good morrow, sweet Hero.

Good morning, sweet Hero.

Why, how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

Why, what's this? Are you speaking in the sick key?

I am out of all other tune, methinks.

I seem to be out of every other key.

Clap’s into ‘Light o’ love’; that goes without a burden: do you sing it, and I’ll dance it.

Let's strike up 'Light o' love'; that one goes without a bass part: you sing it, and I'll dance it.

Ye, light o’ love with your heels! then, if your husband have stables enough, you’ll see he shall lack no barnes.

Yes, light of love with your heels! Then, if your husband has stables enough, you'll make sure he's never short of barns.

O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

Oh, what an illegitimate interpretation! I kick that aside with my heels.

’Tis almost five o’clock, cousin; ’tis time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill. Heigh-ho!

It's almost five o'clock, cousin; it's time you were dressed. Honestly, I feel extremely ill. Heigh-ho!

For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

Sighing for a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

For the letter that begins them all, H.

For the letter that begins them all, H.

Well, and you be not turned Turk, there’s no more sailing by the star.

Well, if you haven't turned Turk, there's no steering by the stars any more.

What means the fool, trow?

What does this fool mean, I wonder?

Nothing I; but God send everyone their heart’s desire!

Nothing at all; but God send everyone what their heart desires!

These gloves the Count sent me; they are an excellent perfume.

These gloves were sent to me by the Count; they smell wonderful.

I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell.

My nose is stuffed up, cousin, I can't smell anything.

A maid, and stuffed! there’s goodly catching of cold.

An unmarried girl, and stuffed! That's a fine way to have caught a cold.

O, God help me! God help me! how long have you professed apprehension?

Oh, God help me! God help me! How long have you claimed to be a wit?

Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely!

Ever since you gave it up. Doesn't my cleverness suit me marvellously well?

It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am sick.

It isn't showing enough; you should wear it in your cap. Honestly, I am ill.

Get you some of this distilled Carduus benedictus, and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

Get yourself some of this distilled Carduus benedictus, and hold it to your heart: it's the only remedy for a sudden faintness.

There thou prick’st her with a thistle.

There you prick her with a thistle.

Benedictus! why benedictus? you have some moral in this benedictus.

Benedictus! Why benedictus? You have some hidden point in this benedictus.

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.

A hidden point! No, honestly, I have no hidden meaning; I meant the plain holy thistle. Possibly you think I think you're in love: no, by Our Lady, I'm not such a fool as to think whatever I please; nor do I please to think whatever I could; nor, in fact, could I think, even if I thought my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love. Yet Benedick was just the same sort, and now he's turned into a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet now, in spite of his heart, he eats his dinner without complaining. And how you may be converted, I don't know; but it seems to me you look out of your eyes the way other women do.

What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?

What pace is this that your tongue is going at?

Not a false gallop.

Not a false gallop.

Madam, withdraw: the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church.

Madam, come away: the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the fine gentlemen of the town have come to take you to church.

Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.

Help me get dressed, good cousin, good Meg, good Ursula.