Shakespeare's First Folio
Chapter 90 : Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not three Leagues off when I left him Leon. How

Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not three Leagues off when I left him

Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this action?

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

Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called Claudio

Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation, then you must expect of me to tell you how

Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very much glad of it

Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse

Leo. Did he breake out into teares?

Mess. In great measure

Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping?

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

Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was none such in the armie of any sort

Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece?

Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Bened.i.c.k of Padua Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was

Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing

Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Bened.i.c.ke too much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not

Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars

Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an excellent stomacke

Mess. And a good souldier too Lady

Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he to a Lord?

Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with all honourable vertues

Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall

Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Bened.i.c.k, & her: they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them

Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath euery month a new sworne brother

Mess. Is't possible?

Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as the fas.h.i.+on of his hat, it euer changes with y next block

Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your bookes

Bea. No, and he were, I would burne 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 diuell?

Mess. He is most in the company of the right n.o.ble Claudio

Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease: he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. G.o.d helpe the n.o.ble Claudio, if hee haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cur'd

Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady

Bea. Do good friend

Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece

Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary

Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Bened.i.c.ke, Balthasar, and Iohn the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fas.h.i.+on of the world is to auoid cost, and you encounter it

Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happinesse takes his leaue

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

Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so

Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her?

Leonato. Signior Bened.i.c.ke, no, for then were you a childe

Pedro. You haue it full Bened.i.c.ke, we may ghesse by this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable father

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

Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Bened.i.c.ke, no body markes you

Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet liuing?

Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Bened.i.c.ke?

Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in her presence

Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truely I loue none

Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke G.o.d and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man sweare he loues me

Bene. G.o.d keepe your Ladis.h.i.+p still in that minde, so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratcht face

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

Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher

Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of your

Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a G.o.ds name, I haue done

Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know you of old