« السابقةمتابعة »
Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging.
Duke. Slandering a prince deserves it.She, Claudio, that you wronged, look you restore. Joy to you, Mariana!-Love her, Angelo; I have confessed her, and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There's more behind, that is more gratulate. Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy: We shall employ thee in a worthier place:Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's; The offence pardons itself. - Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.
DON PEDRO, Prince of Arragon.
CLAUDIO, a young Lord of Florence, favorite to Don
BENEDICK, a young Lord of Padua, favorite likewise of Don Pedro.
HERO, Daughter to Leonato.
BEATRICE, Niece to Leonato.
MARGARET, Gentlewomen attending on Hero.
Messengers, Watch, and Attendants.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.
SCENE I. Before Leonato's House.
Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others, with a Messenger.
Leonato. 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 honor 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; eved 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 washed. How much better it is to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping! Beat. I pray you, is seignoir Montanto returned 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 seignior Benedick of Padua.