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    MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

    A monologue from the play by William Shakespeare


    LEONATO: I pray thee cease thy counsel,
    Which falls into mine ears as profitless
    As water in a sieve. Give not me counsel,
    Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
    But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
    Bring me a father that so loved his child,
    Whose joy of her is overwhelmed like mine,
    And bid him speak of patience.
    Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
    And let it answer every strain for strain,
    As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
    In every lineament, branch, shape, and form.
    If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
    Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem' when he should groan,
    Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
    With candle-wasters -- bring him yet to me,
    And I of him will gather patience.
    But there is no such man; for, brother, men
    Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
    Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
    Their counsel turns to passion, which before
    Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
    Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
    Charm ache with air and agony with words.
    No, no! 'Tis all men's office to speak patience
    To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
    But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
    To be so moral when he shall endure
    The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel.
    My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

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