Why are you thus out of measure sad | There is no measure in the occasion that breeds. Therefore the sadness is without limit |
You should hear reason | And when I have heard it what blessing brings it. |
At least a patient sufferance | I wonder that thou, being as thou sayest thou art, born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile at no mans jest, eat when I have stomach and wait for no mans leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no mans business laugh when I am merry and claw no man at his humor |
It is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest | I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man. It must not be denied but I’m a plain dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty I would do my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and seek not to alter me. |
Can you make no use of your discontent | I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here. What news Borachio |
I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage | Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness. |
Marry, it’s your brothers right hand | Who? The most exquisite Claudio |
Even he | A proper squire! And who, and who?which way looks he. |
Mary, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. | A very forward March-chick! How come you to this? |
Give her to Count Claudio. | Come come, let is thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. The young start up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way I bless myself every way. You are both sure and will assist me. |
To the death my lord | Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of my mind. Shall we go prove what’s to be done. |
Much Ado about nothing Don John
July 18, 2019