Enter Don John and Conrade.
CONRADE.
What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out of measure sad?
DON JOHN.
There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore the sadness is
without limit.
CONRADE.
You should hear reason.
DON JOHN.
And when I have heard it, what blessings brings it?
CONRADE.
If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
DON JOHN.
I wonder that thou (being as thou say’st 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 man’s jests;
eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man’s leisure; sleep when I am
drowsy, and tend on no man’s business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no
man in his humour.
CONRADE.
Yea; but you must not make the full show of this till you may do it without
controlment. You have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath
ta’en you newly into his grace; where it is impossible you should take
true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful that
you frame the season for your own harvest.
DON JOHN.
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 am 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.
CONRADE.
Can you make no use of your discontent?
DON JOHN.
I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here?
Enter Borachio.
What news, Borachio?
BORACHIO.
I came yonder from a great supper: the Prince your brother is royally
entertained by Leonato; and I can give you intelligence of an intended
marriage.
DON JOHN.
Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that
betroths himself to unquietness?
BORACHIO.
Marry, it is your brother’s right hand.
DON JOHN.
Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
BORACHIO.
Even he.
DON JOHN.
A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks he?
BORACHIO.
Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
DON JOHN.
A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
BORACHIO.
Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room, comes me the
Prince and Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference: I whipt me behind the
arras, and there heard it agreed upon that the Prince should woo Hero for
himself, and having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
DON JOHN.
Come, come; let us thither: this may prove food to my displeasure. That 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?
CONRADE.
To the death, my lord.
DON JOHN.
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 to prove what’s to be done?
BORACHIO.
We’ll wait upon your Lordship.
[Exeunt.]
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg