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Bora. Go then, find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the count Claudio, alone: tell them, that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as in love of your brother's honour who hath made this match; and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial offer them instances; which shall bear no less likelihood, than to see me at her chamber-window; hear me call Margaret, Hero; hear Margaret term me Borachio; and bring them to see this, the very night before the intended wedding for, in the mean time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent; and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be call'd assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.
D. Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
Claud. O, very well, my lord: the musick ended, We'll fit the kid fox with a pennyworth.
Enter BALTHAZAR, with musick.
D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again.
Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice To slander musick any more than once.
D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, To put a strange face on his own perfection. I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing: Since many a wooer doth commence his suit To her he thinks not worthy; yet he wooes; Yet will he swear, he loves. D. Pedro.
Nay, pray thee, come :
D. John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice: Be cunning in the working Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.
Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.
D. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.
SCENE III.- Leonato's Garden.
Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the orchard.
Boy. I am here already, sir.
Bene. I know that;-but I would have thee hence, and here again. [Exit Boy.] - I do much wonder, that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn, by falling in love: And such a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no musick with him but the drum and fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known, when he would have walked ten mile afoot, to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honest man, and a soldier; and now is he turn'd orthographer; his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair; yet I am well another is wise; yet I am well: another virtuous; yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich, she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.
Enter Don PEDRO, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO. D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this musick? Claud. Yea, my good lord;- How still the even ing is,
As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
Do it in notes.
Note this before my notes,
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. D. Pedro. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks;
Note, notes, forsooth, and noting!
Bene. Now, Divine air! now is his soul ravished! - Is it not strange, that sheeps' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? - Well, a horn for my money, when all's done.
BALTHAZAR Sings. I.
Balth. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
One foot in sea, and one on shore;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny; Converting all your sounds of woe Into, Hey nonny, nɔnny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no mo
D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song.
Bene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog, that should have howled thus, they would have hanged him: and, I pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it.
D. Pedro. Yea, marry; [to CLAUDIO.] - Dost thou hear, Balthazar ? pray thee, get us some excellent musick; for to-morrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamber-window.
Balth. The best I can, my lord.
D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt BALTHAZAR and musick.] Come hither, Leonato: What was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick?
Claud. O, ay: - Stalk on, stalk on the fowl sits. [Aside to PEDRO.] I did never think that lady would have loved any man.
Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful,
that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.
Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? [dside. Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what o think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought. D. Pedro. May be, she doth but counterfeit. Claud. 'Faith, like enough.
Leon. O God! counterfeit! There never was counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she discovers it.
D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she? Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.
[Aside. Leon. What effects, my lord! She will sit you, You heard my daughter tell you how.
Claud. She did, indeed.
hold it up. [Aside.
D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick.
Leon. No; and swears she never will: that's her torment.
Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: Shall I, says she, that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?
Leon. This says she now when she is beginning to write to him: for she'll be up twenty times a night and there will she sit in her smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper: - my daughter tells us
Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.
Leon. O! When she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?
Leon. O she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her: I measure him, says she, by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.
Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, O sweet Benedick! God give me patience! Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstacy hath so much overborne her, that my daughter is sometime afraid she will do a desperate outrage to herself; It is very true.
D. Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it.
Claud. To what end? He would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.
D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to bang him: She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous.
Cland And she is exceeding wise.
D. Pedro. In every thing but in loving Benedick.
Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. D. Pedro. I would, she had bestowed this dotage I would have daff'd all other respects, and made her half myself: I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will say.
Leon. Were it good, think you?
Claud. Hero thinks surely, she will die; for she says, sl. will die if he love her not; and she will die ere she makes her love known: and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will 'bate one breadth of her accustomed crossness.
D. Pedro. She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it: for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. Claud. He is a very proper man.
D. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness.
Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. D. Pedro. He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit.
Leon. And I take him to be valiant.
D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear.
Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling.
D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for your niece: Shall we go see Benedick, and tell him of her love?
Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it out with good counsel.
Leon. Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her heart out first.
D. Pedro. Well, we'll hear further of it by your daughter: let it cool the while. I love Benedick well and I could wish he would modestly examine himself to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady.
Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not doat on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. Aside.
D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her and that must your daughter, and her gentlewoman carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such matter; that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. [Aside. [Exeunt Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO. BENEDICK advances from the arbour. Bene. This can be no trick: The conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured : they say, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did never think to marry- - I must not seem proud :Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending. They say, the lady is fair; 'ti, a truth, I can bear them witness: and
Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you take pains to thank me; if it had been painful, I would not have come.
virtuous 'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise but for loving me :- By my troth, it is no addition to her wit; -nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: But doth not the appetite alter? loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age: Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice: By this day, she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her.
Beat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
:- You have
Bene. You take pleasure in the message? Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choke a daw withal: no stomach, signior; fare you well. Bene. Ha! Against my will I am sent to bid you come to dinner there's a double meaning in that. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you took pains to thank me — that's as much as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks:
do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go get her picture. [Exit.
Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA. Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the partour; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the Prince and Claudio: Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us; And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter;- like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will she
To listen our propose: This is thy office,
To praise him more than ever man did merit :
Enter BEATRICE, behind.
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Urs. The pleasant's angling is to see the fish
Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
[They advance to the bower. No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful; I know, her spirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock.
But are you sure,
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it: But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.
Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed,
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deserve -
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice :
All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Sure, I think so;
And therefore, certainly, it were not good
Hero. Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.
Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,
For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour,
Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
Hero. Why, every day; -to-morrow:
go in ;
D. Pedro. Draw it.
Bene. Hang it!
Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
D. Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach?
Claud. Yet, say I, he is in love.
D. Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises; as, to be a Dutchman to-day; a Frenchman to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, as, a German from the waist downward, all slops; and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet: Unless he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is.
Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing old signs: he brushes his hat o' mornings; What should that bode?
D. Pedro. Hath any man seen him at the barber's? Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen Come, with him; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuffed tennis-balls.
Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
SCENE II. -A Room in Leonato's House.
Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and
D. Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be
D. Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage, as to show a child his new coat, and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string, and the little hangman dare not shoot at him he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks.
Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been.
D. Pedro. Hang him, truant; there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love: if he be sad, he wants money.
Bene. I have the tooth-ach.
Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.
D. Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet: Can you smell him out by that?
Claud. That's as much as to say, The sweet youth's in love.
D. Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy.
Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face? D. Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear what they say of him.
Claud. Nay, but his jesting spirit; which is now crept into a lutestring, and now governed by stops. D. Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: Conclude, conclude, he is in love.
Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him. D. Pedro. That would I know too; I warrant, one that knows him not.
Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of all, dies for him.
D. Pedro. She shall be buried with her face upwards.
Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Old signior, walk aside with me; I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you, which these hobby-horses must not hear.
[Exeunt BENEDICK and LEONATO. D. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.
Claud. 'Tis even so: Hero and Margaret have by this played their parts with Beatrice; and then the two bears will not bite one another, when they meet.
D. John. I know not that, when he knows what I know.
be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern: This Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, is your charge; You shall comprehend all vagrom discover it.
D. John. You may think, I love you not; let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifest. For my brother, I think, he holds you well; and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your ensuing marriage: surely, suit ill spent, and labour ill bestowed!
D. Pedro. Why, what's the matter?
D. John. I came hither to tell you: and, circumstances shortened, (for she hath been too long a talking of,) the lady is disloyal.
Claud. Who? Hero?
D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.
D. John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think you of a worse title, and Iwill fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant: go but with me to-night, you shall see her chamber-window entered; even the night before her wedding-day: if you love her then, to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind.
Claud. May this be so?
D. Pedro. I will not think it. D. John. If y you dare not trust that you see, confuss not that you know if you will follow me, I will show you enough; and when you have seen more, and heard more, proceed accordingly.
Claud. If I see any thing to-night why I should not marry her to-morrow; in the congregation, where I should wed, there will I shame her.
D. Pedro. And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to disgrace her.
D. John. I will disparage her no farther, till you are my witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the issue show itself.
D. Pedro. O day untowardly turned!
Enter DOGBERRY and VERGES, with the Watch.
Dogb. Are you good men and true? Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation, body and soul.
Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch.
Verg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
Dogb. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable?
1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seaoal; for they can write and read.
Dogb. Come hither, . neighbour Seacoal: God hath blessed you with a good name: to be a wellfavoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.
2 Watch. Both which, master constable, Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favour, sir, wlry, give God thanks, and make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of such vanity. You are thought here to
men; you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's
2 Watch. How if he will not stand?
Dogb. Why then, take no note of him, but let him go; and presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you are rid of a knave.
Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects.
Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none but the prince's subjects : :- You shall also make no noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble and talk, is most tolerable and not to be endured. 2 Watch. We will rather sleep than talk; we know what belongs to a watch.
Dogb. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend only, have a care that your bills be not stolen: Well, you are to call at all the alehouses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. 2 Watch. How if they will not?
Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are sober; if they make you not then the better answer, you may say, they are not the men you took them for. 2 Watch. Well, sir.
Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue of your office, to be no true man: and, for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honesty.
2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on him?
Dogb. Truly, by your office, you may; but, I think, they that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is, and steal out of your company.
Verg. You have been always called a merciful man, partner.
Dogb. Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will; much more a man who hath any honesty in him.
Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call to the nurse, and bid her still it.
2 Watch. How if the nurse be asleep, and will not hear us?
Dogb. Why then, depart in peace, and let the child wake her with crying: for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes, will never answer a calf when he bleats.
Verg. 'Tis very true.
Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, constable, are to present the prince's own person; if you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him. Verg. Nay by'r lady, that, I think, he cannot. Dogb. Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows the statues, he may stay him: marry, not without the prince be willing: for, indeed, the watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay a man against his will.
Verg. By'r lady, I think, it be 0.
Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your fellows' counsels and your own, and good night. Come, neighbour.
2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two. and then all to-bed.
Dogb. One word more, honest neighbours I