The Fisherwoman's Stratagem A Comedy in Five Acts Dramatis Personae Beatrice— A lady of singular wit and beauty, wife to Benedick Benedick— A noble gentleman of Messina, husband to Beatrice Don John— The Bastard, brother to Don Pedro, a man of malicious disposition Don Pedro— Prince of Aragon, King of Messina Leonato— Governor of Messina, father to Hero Hero— Daughter to Leonato, cousin to Beatrice Claudio— A young lord of Florence, friend to Benedick Dogberry— A constable, chief of the watch Verges— A headborough, Dogberry's companion Margaret— Gentlewoman attending on Beatrice Ursula— Another gentlewoman attending on Beatrice Borachio— A follower of Don John Conrade— Another follower of Don John Fishermen, Soldiers, Messengers, Attendants Act I Scene I. A Garden in Leonato's House. Enter Benedick and Beatrice, hand in hand, with loving countenance. Benedick. My dearest Beatrice, how the morning sun doth find thee fair! These gardens bloom not half so bright as thine eyes when they sparkle with mirth. Beatrice. Fie, husband! Thou flatterest me with words sweeter than honey. Yet I confess, these days of peace content me well. To walk beside thee, to share thy laughter and thy counsel—what more could woman's heart desire? Benedick. When I recall our courtship, how we sparred like fencers with our wit, I marvel that we ever came to this sweet harmony. Beatrice. Aye, we were two fools, each too proud to confess what hearts already knew. But love, that subtle thief, stole in despite our guard and made us prisoners—most willing prisoners—to its gentle tyranny. Enter Margaret, with haste. Margaret. Madam, my lord, I bring news! Don Pedro, the King, comes hither with his brother Don John and a great company of lords. They are but an hour's ride from Messina's gates. Benedick. Don Pedro comes? 'Tis welcome news indeed! I served with him in the late wars, and he hath ever been a friend to me. Beatrice. And what of this Don John? I have heard whisperings of him—that he is a man of sour disposition, envious of his brother's crown. Benedick. The Bastard, aye. He bears a grudge against all the world for the accident of his birth. But come, let us prepare to welcome the King. His favor brings honor to our house. Exeunt. Scene II. The Great Hall of Leonato's House. Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Claudio, Benedick, Leonato, and attendants. Don Pedro. Cousin Leonato, we are glad to see you well. These walls have ever been a sanctuary to weary travelers. Leonato. Your Grace does honor to my humble house. All that I have is yours to command. Don John stands apart, observing Beatrice with dark eyes. Don John. (Aside) What light through yonder window breaks? Nay, 'tis no window but a woman—and what a woman! Her beauty strikes like lightning to my heart. Who is this vision? Borachio. (Aside to Don John) My lord, that is Beatrice, wife to Benedick, the lady's cousin. Don John. (Aside) Married? To that prating fool Benedick? 'Tis waste most criminal! Such beauty deserves a worthier possessor. A prince, perhaps. A man of genuine nobility, not one who talks his way to favor. Don Pedro. Brother, you are silent. Come, join our merriment! Messina is famed for its hospitality. Don John. (With false smile) I am but weary from the journey, brother. The dust of the road still clings to my spirits. With your leave, I shall seek my chambers. Exit Don John, casting a backward glance at Beatrice. Beatrice. (To Benedick, softly) That man hath serpent's eyes. Cold, calculating, and full of hidden poison. I like him not. Benedick. Peace, love. He is the King's brother, though born on the wrong side of the blanket. We must show him courtesy for Don Pedro's sake. Exeunt omnes. Scene III. Don John's Chamber. Enter Don John and Borachio. Don John. Borachio, I am beset by a passion most violent. That woman Beatrice—she haunts my waking thoughts and my sleeping dreams. I must possess her! Borachio. But my lord, she is married to Benedick, and by all accounts, most happily. Don John. Happily? Ha! What is happiness but a veil that sorrow wears? I shall tear that veil asunder. But first—first I must remove the obstacle. Benedick must fall. Borachio. What scheme have you devised, my lord? Don John. Listen well. Benedick is treasurer to the crown, is he not? He manages the royal revenues. What if evidence were found—documents, seals, letters—proving he embezzles from the King's coffers? Borachio. But my lord, is there truth to these charges? Don John. Truth? Truth is clay, and I am the potter! I shall forge documents so cunningly wrought that none shall doubt their authenticity. The King's seal—I have means to obtain a copy. The signatures—I have studied Benedick's hand. Borachio. And when Benedick is accused? Don John. When he is imprisoned, when his name is blackened beyond redemption—then shall I approach the fair Beatrice. I shall offer to save her husband in exchange for… her favor. If she refuses, let him hang. If she consents… Borachio. (Uneasily) 'Tis a dark plot, my lord. Don John. Darkness suits me, Borachio. I was born in shadow; I thrive in shadow. Now go—fetch me parchment, sealing wax, and the samples of Benedick's hand that I bade thee collect. The game begins. Exeunt. Act II Scene I. Beatrice's Chamber. Enter Beatrice, Margaret, and Ursula. Beatrice. Margaret, Ursula, I am troubled in my mind. That Don John—did you observe how he looked upon me? 'Twas not the gaze of honest admiration, but the hungry stare of a wolf that spies a lamb. Margaret. Indeed, madam, I marked it well. His eyes followed you like a hound that tracks a scent. Ursula. And there is talk among the servants, my lady. They say Don John makes inquiries about my lord Benedick—his habits, his duties, the hours he keeps at the treasury. Beatrice. (Alarmed) The treasury? What business hath the Bastard with the royal accounts? Unless… She pauses, deep in thought. Beatrice. Unless he plots against my husband. Benedick is honest as the day is long, but envy needs no true crime to work its malice. A forged document, a planted seal, and innocence itself might hang. Margaret. What shall we do, madam? Beatrice. We shall watch, and we shall wait. And if Don John moves against my lord, he shall find that Beatrice is no helpless damsel to wring her hands while villains work their will. I have wit and will enough to match any man's cunning. Enter Benedick, cheerful. Benedick. My love, the King hath commanded a feast for tonight in honor of his brother's arrival. You shall sit at my right hand and dazzle all with your beauty. Beatrice. (With forced lightness) I shall dazzle, husband, but keep one eye upon the shadows. There are serpents in this garden, though they wear princely colors. Benedick. What mean you? Beatrice. Only this, my dear—trust no man fully until he hath earned it. Not even a king's brother. Exeunt. Scene II. The Great Hall. A Feast. A banquet prepared. Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Benedick, Beatrice, Leonato, Hero, Claudio, and others. Don Pedro. Fill every cup! Tonight we drink to brotherhood and peace. Don John, my brother, though thou art sometimes grave, I know thy heart is true. Drink with me! Don John. (Raising cup) To brotherhood. He drinks, but his eyes are on Beatrice. Don John. (Aside) Drink deep, fools. While you make merry, my plan takes shape. Tomorrow, the forged documents go to the King. The day after, Benedick hangs. And then… then the fair Beatrice shall learn what it means to refuse Don John. Beatrice. (Observing him) He drinks, yet his thoughts are elsewhere. I would give a pearl to know what schemes brew behind those sullen brows. Benedick. What say you, love? Beatrice. I say, husband, that we should retire early. I feel a headache coming on. Benedick. Shall I attend you? Beatrice. Nay, stay and enjoy the feast. But come to me before the midnight bell. I would speak with you on a matter of some urgency. Exeunt Beatrice. Don John watches her departure with hungry eyes. Scene III. Beatrice's Chamber. Enter Beatrice, alone. She paces, thinking. Beatrice. There is mischief afoot, I feel it in my bones. That villain's gaze, his questions about the treasury—he plots against my Benedick. But how? And when? If I could but gain access to his chambers, discover what papers he keeps… She pauses, struck by inspiration. Beatrice. A disguise! The fishermen of Messina come and go as they please, beneath notice of great lords. If I were to dress as a fisherwoman, with basket of wares and simple speech—who would look twice? Who would suspect? Beatrice. (To herself) But 'tis dangerous. If discovered, my reputation—nay, my life—might be forfeit. Yet what is danger weighed against my husband's safety? Benedick would risk all for me. Shall I do less for him? Beatrice. No! I am Beatrice, niece to the Governor, wife to a noble lord—but more than these, I am a woman with wit and courage. Let Don John scheme his schemes. I shall weave a counter-plot that will snare him in his own net! Enter Benedick. Benedick. My love, you spoke of urgency? Beatrice. (Taking his hands) Husband, I must tell you what I suspect. That Don John means you harm. He inquires about the treasury, your duties, your hours— Benedick. (Laughing) The Bastard? Envy me? He is a prince, for all his birth; I am but a gentleman. Beatrice. (Earnestly) Envy knows no rank, my love. A beggar may envy a king; a prince may envy a peasant's contentment. Promise me you will be watchful. Benedick. For your sake, I promise. But do not let suspicion poison your spirit. Beatrice. (Aside) He does not believe. Then I must act alone. Tomorrow, when the household sleeps, Beatrice shall become a fisherwoman—and catch herself a villain. Exeunt. Act III Scene I. The Streets of Messina. Dawn. Enter Beatrice, disguised as a fisherwoman. She wears coarse garments, carries a basket of fish, and has stained her face with walnut juice to darken her complexion. Her hair is hidden beneath a ragged cap. Beatrice. (In peasant accent) Fresh fish! Fine fresh fish from the morning catch! Who buys my mackerel? She approaches Don John's lodgings, a fine house near the harbor. Beatrice. (Aside) Now to work. The servants say Don John keeps early hours and drinks wine before his breakfast. A man who drinks at dawn is a man who seeks forgetfulness—or courage for dark deeds. A servant emerges from the house. Servant. Away with you, fishwife! My lord wants none of your stinking wares. Beatrice. (Humbly) Good sir, I have fine wine as well—wine from Naples, sweet and strong. My brother is a sailor; he brings it from the ships. Your master looks like a gentleman of discerning taste. The servant considers, tempted. Servant. Naples wine, you say? My lord doth favor the grape. Wait here. Exit servant. He returns shortly. Servant. My lord will see your wine. Enter, but mind your manners. My lord is particular about the company he keeps. Beatrice. (Aside) Particular? Aye, so particular he plots against honest men and covets other men's wives. Lead on, varlet—your mistress follows in disguise! Exeunt. Scene II. Don John's Chamber. Enter Don John, in dressing gown, with Borachio. Beatrice enters, bent and humble, carrying her basket. Don John. (Surveying her with distaste) What filthy creature is this? Beatrice. (In character, bowing low) A poor fisherwoman, my lord, with wine from Naples. Sweet as honey, strong as a lion—the finest vintage, fit for a prince's table. Don John. (Interested) Naples wine? Let me taste. Beatrice produces a flask and pours a cup. Don John drinks. Don John. Not bad, for peasant swill. How much for the cask? Beatrice. For your lordship? A pittance. But… Don John. But what? Beatrice. (Hesitating) I have heard, my lord, that you are a gentleman of great—how shall I say?—enterprise. A man who knows the value of information. Don John sits up, suddenly alert. Don John. What know you of my affairs? Beatrice. Only what the streets whisper, my lord. That you seek to—to advance yourself. That certain—documents—might help your cause. Don John. (To Borachio) Leave us. Exit Borachio. Don John. (To Beatrice, sharply) Who sent you? Speak truth, or by heaven— Beatrice. (Fearfully) No one sent me, my lord! I am but a poor woman who hears things. The fish market is a place of gossip. They say—they say Benedick the treasurer is to be brought low. That papers will appear—papers showing he steals from the King. Don John. (Relaxing, smiling) Papers, you say? And who would believe such papers? Beatrice. (Shrugging) Who can say, my lord? But I have heard that the forger who made them—one Master Grimaldi—is known for his skill. His work deceives even the learned. Don John. (Startled) Grimaldi? How know you that name? Beatrice. The streets know all, my lord. The streets see all. She pours him more wine. He drinks deeply, eyeing her with new respect. Don John. You are a strange fishwife. Perchance—perchance you might be useful. There are those who oppose my—my advancement. A woman of your—resources—might learn things. Hear things. Beatrice. (Bowing) I am ever at your service, my lord. Don John. Good. Now leave me. Take this gold—and hold your tongue about what passes here. Beatrice. (Taking the coin) Mum as the grave, my lord. But—if I may—I would know what papers you keep. That I might better serve you. That I might know what to listen for. Don John, now quite drunk, waves expansively. Don John. Papers? There—in that chest. The forged accounts. The letters with Benedick's counterfeit signature. The seal—aye, the royal seal, copied so cunningly that none shall know it false. All the instruments of that fool's destruction. Beatrice. (Controlling her excitement) I see, my lord. Most—most cleverly arranged. Don John. Tomorrow they go to the King. Tomorrow Benedick hangs. And then—then his pretty wife shall learn what it means to… to… He slumps, the wine overcoming him. Beatrice. (Aside) The villain sleeps! Now, Beatrice—now or never! She moves swiftly to the chest, opens it, and removes the documents. Beatrice. (Whispering) The forged accounts—aye, here they are. The counterfeit letters—Benedick's signature traced so skillfully. And this—this must be the copied seal. All the evidence of his villainy, here in my hands! She conceals the documents beneath her garments, in a hidden pocket. Beatrice. (To the sleeping Don John) Sleep well, villain. Dream of your triumph—for when you wake, your weapons shall be gone, and the prey you sought to snare shall have become the hunter! She exits quietly, leaving Don John snoring. Act IV Scene I. Leonato's House. Morning. Enter Beatrice, now in her proper garments, with Benedick. She shows him the documents. Benedick. (Astonished) What miracle is this? These papers—they bear my signature, yet I never wrote them! Beatrice. Forged, my love, by Don John's hand. He plotted to accuse you of embezzlement, to see you hanged, and then—then to force me to his will in exchange for your life. Benedick. (Horrified) That serpent! That devil in princely shape! But how came you by these proofs? Beatrice. (Smiling) I became a fisherwoman, husband. I walked where fishwives walk, I spoke as fishwives speak. I offered wine to a thirsty villain and let his tongue run free. Benedick. (Amazed) You? My Beatrice? In peasant rags, among the coarse folk of the harbor? Beatrice. Aye, and I would do it again—a thousand times! For you, my love, I would become a beggar, a scullion, a tinker. There is no disguise too low, no risk too great, when your safety is the prize. Benedick. (Embracing her) What wife is this, whom fortune hath bestowed upon me? Not merely beautiful, but brave. Not merely witty, but wise. Beatrice, I am humbled by your devotion. Beatrice. (Playfully) Humbled? Benedick? Nay, say not so—I shall think the world turned upside down! But come, we have no time for tender speeches. Don John will discover his loss soon. We must act before he can devise new mischief. Benedick. What do you propose? Beatrice. We go to the King. We show him these forgeries. We tell him all—how his brother plots against honest men, how he covets what is not his, how he would use false evidence to destroy the innocent. Benedick. But will Don Pedro believe us against his own brother? Beatrice. He is a just king, and wise. When he sees these documents—sees how Don John copied his seal, forged your hand—he will know the truth. The question is not whether he will believe, but whether we can reach him before Don John invents some new slander. Enter Margaret, breathless. Margaret. Madam, my lord—Don John is abroad! He rages through the house like a madman, demanding to know who entered his chamber. He speaks of stolen papers, of treachery— Beatrice. (Calmly) Let him rage. His wrath is the wrath of a cornered rat. Come, husband—to the King! Exeunt. Scene II. The Palace. The King's Presence Chamber. Enter Don Pedro, attended. Enter Benedick and Beatrice. Don Pedro. Cousin Benedick! Lady Beatrice! What brings you hither with such urgency? Benedick. Your Grace, I come with heavy heart to accuse one near to you. Yet the accusation is just, and the proof—the proof is here. He presents the documents. Don Pedro examines them. Don Pedro. (Frowning) These appear to be accounts—your accounts, Benedick—showing moneys diverted from the treasury. Yet you bring them to me yourself? Beatrice. Your Grace, those documents are forged. Examine the seal—it is a copy, not the true royal seal. Examine the signature—it is traced, not written. Your brother Don John had them made to destroy my husband. Don Pedro. (Shocked) Don John? My brother? This is a grave charge, lady. Beatrice. Grave indeed, Your Grace. Yet I have proof beyond these papers. I myself— She hesitates, then steadies herself. Beatrice. I myself, disguised as a fisherwoman, entered his chamber. I heard him confess his plot. I saw these documents in his possession. I—I took them, that they might not be used for evil. Don Pedro. (Amazed) You? A lady of your rank, in such base disguise? Beatrice. When love commands, rank is nothing. When honor calls, a woman becomes a warrior. I did what I must to save my husband from the gallows and expose a villain's treachery. Enter Don John, with guards. He stops short, seeing the scene. Don John. (Attempting composure) Brother, I come to report a theft. My chamber was entered, my private papers— Don Pedro. (Holding up the documents) These papers, brother? Don John pales, seeing the forgeries in the King's hand. Don John. (Stammering) I—I can explain— Don Pedro. (Coldly) Can you explain how my seal came to be counterfeited? Can you explain how Benedick's signature came to be forged? Can you explain why you plotted against an honest man, my brother? Don John. (Desperately) They lie! That woman—she is a witch! She bewitched me, stole into my chamber— Beatrice. (Calmly) I stole nothing that was yours, villain. Only what you had stolen from truth and honor. Don John lunges at Beatrice. Benedick interposes himself. Benedick. Touch her, and you answer to me! Don Pedro. (Commanding) Enough! Don John, you are my brother—but you are also a traitor. Guards, take him to the dungeon. He shall answer for his crimes before the full court. Guards seize Don John. Don John. (Struggling) Curse you, Beatrice! Curse your cunning and your courage! If not for you— Beatrice. (Interrupting) If not for me, my husband would hang, and you would be counting your ill-gotten gains. Thank heaven for women's wit, villain—it has undone you! Exeunt guards with Don John. Act V Scene I. The Palace. The Court of Justice. The court assembled. Enter Don Pedro on his throne, attended by lords. Enter Don John, in chains, with guards. Enter Benedick, Beatrice, Leonato, Hero, Claudio, and others. Don Pedro. Let justice now be done. Don John, you stand accused of forgery, of conspiracy against the crown's officers, and of treasonous intent. What say you? Don John. (Defiantly) I say that I am a prince of Aragon, born of the same father as you, yet treated as a dog! What wonder that I seek to advance myself by whatever means? Don Pedro. You were born on the wrong side of the blanket, 'tis true. Yet I have ever treated you with brotherly kindness. I gave you place at my court, honors, revenues. And this is your gratitude? Don John. (Bitterly) Crumbs from your table! While you wear the crown, I wear the stigma of bastardy. While you command, I must obey. Is it any wonder I sought to raise myself? Beatrice. (Stepping forward) Your Grace, if I may speak? Don Pedro. Speak, lady. Your wit and courage have earned you the right. Beatrice. This man speaks of injustice—yet what injustice did my husband do him? Benedick never wronged Don John. He treated him with courtesy, invited him to his table, spoke well of him to all. And for this kindness, Don John plotted to destroy him. Beatrice. He forged documents to accuse an innocent man of theft. He planned to see my husband hanged—and then, when I was widowed and desperate, to force me to his bed in exchange for a pardon that would never come. Don Pedro. (Horrified) Is this true, brother? Don John. (Silent, then sullenly) What matter? She is but a woman. What right has she to judge me? Beatrice. (Fiercely) I have the right of one who loves! The right of one who would not see her husband destroyed by envy! The right of one who dared what you never dared—to risk all for love, and win! Don Pedro. (To the court) You have heard the lady. You have seen the evidence. What sentence do you pronounce upon Don John the Bastard? The lords consult briefly. First Lord. Death, Your Grace. For treason against the crown, death is the penalty. Second Lord. Aye, death. The forgeries alone would hang a common man. The conspiracy against a noble officer demands no less. Don John trembles, his defiance crumbling. Don Pedro. (Rising) Then let it be so. Don John, you are adjudged to die. Yet because you are my brother, though you have not acted as one, I grant you this mercy—you shall not hang like a common thief. You shall be banished forever from my realm, on pain of death should you return. Your goods are forfeit. Your name shall be struck from the rolls of nobility. You shall live out your days in some foreign land, remembered only as a warning to those who would plot against the innocent. Don John. (Falling to his knees) Brother! Mercy! Don Pedro. (Coldly) You showed no mercy to Benedick. You would have shown none to Beatrice. Take your banishment and be grateful for it. Guards, remove him. Exeunt guards with the condemned Don John. Scene II. Leonato's Garden. Evening. Enter Benedick and Beatrice, walking together. The garden is lit with lanterns; music plays softly in the distance. Benedick. And so it ends, my love. The villain is vanquished, justice served, and peace restored to Messina. Beatrice. It ends well, husband. Yet I confess, there were moments when I feared— Benedick. When you feared? You? The woman who disguised herself as a fishwife, who entered a villain's den, who stole the evidence of his guilt from under his very nose? Beatrice. (Laughing) Aye, even I feared. Courage is not the absence of fear, Benedick—it is the mastery of it. I was afraid, but I acted despite my fear. That is the only kind of courage worth the name. Benedick. (Taking her hands) And what prompted such courage? What made my gentle wife become a warrior? Beatrice. Love, foolish man. Love that would not see you harmed. Love that would risk shame, risk danger, risk death itself to keep you safe. Benedick. (Embracing her) Then I am thrice blessed. Not only for your love, but for the wit that devised such a stratagem, and the courage that executed it. You have saved my life, Beatrice—my life and my honor. Beatrice. And you have given me a life worth saving. What would I be without you, Benedick? A sharp-tongued spinster, growing old in my cousin's house, amusing myself with wit because I had no love. Benedick. (Smiling) And now? Beatrice. Now I am a wife, a partner, a woman who has proven that female wit is no less potent than male strength. Let the world know it: Beatrice, wife to Benedick, outwitted a prince and saved her husband! Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Hero, Claudio, and the others. Don Pedro. We interrupt a private moment? Forgive us—we come to celebrate! Leonato. My niece, you have brought honor to our house such as no battle ever won. Hero. Cousin, I am proud to bear your name! When they speak of Beatrice in years to come, they shall say: 'She was a woman of wit and courage, who saved her husband by her own devices.' Don Pedro. (Raising a cup) To Beatrice! The Fisherwoman of Messina, whose stratagem confounded a villain and preserved an innocent man! All. To Beatrice! Benedick. (Raising his own cup) To my wife—who proves daily that I married far above my deserving! Beatrice. (Laughing) And to my husband—who proves daily that he knows how to flatter a woman! All laugh. Beatrice. (More seriously) Yet let this tale teach more than mirth. Let it teach that women are not ornaments, not dolls to be admired and set aside. We have minds as sharp as any man's, courage as true, love as deep. When we are tested, we rise to the test. When those we love are threatened, we become warriors. Don Pedro. Well spoken, lady. And let it be known throughout my realm—any man who underestimates a woman's wit does so at his peril! Benedick. (To Beatrice) And any man who wins such a woman's love is thrice blessed. Beatrice. (To Benedick) And any woman who finds a husband worthy of such love is thrice blessed in return. They kiss. Claudio. Come, friends! Let us feast and make merry! The villain is gone, the heroes are honored, and love has triumphed! All. Love has triumphed! Exeunt omnes, to celebration. Epilogue Thus ends our tale of wit and love, of disguise and discovery, of a woman's courage that outmatched a prince's malice. Let no man say that women lack the wit to devise, the courage to execute, or the love to sacrifice. In Messina, by the harbor where fishwives once cried their wares, there stands now a statue—a woman in humble dress, holding a basket, with a sly smile upon her face. The inscription reads: 'To Beatrice, Who Proved That Wisdom Wears Many Guises.' And on summer evenings, when the sun sets over the water and paints the sky with gold, the people of Messina tell their children the tale of the Fisherwoman's Stratagem—how a lady became a peasant, how a villain was undone by his own schemes, and how love, guided by wit, conquered all. THE END