Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Marg. God match me with a good dancer!

[Bora.] Amen.

Marg. And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done! Answer, clerk.

[Bora.] No more words; the clerk is answer’d.

[They move aside.]

Urs. I know you well enough, you are Signior Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head.

Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man. Here’s his dry hand up and down. You are he, you are he.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urs. Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he. Graces will appear, and there’s an end.

[They move aside.]

Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so?

Bene. No, you shall pardon me.

Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?

Bene. Not now.

Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the “Hundred Merry Tales”—well, this was Signior Benedick that said so.

Bene. What’s he?

Beat. I am sure you know him well enough.