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Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themselves mad. Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church?

Claud. To-morrow, my Lord; time goes on crutches, till love have all his rites.

Leon. Not till Monday, my dear fon, which is hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief too to have all things anfwer my mind.

Pedro. Come, you shake the head at fo long a breathing; but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules's labours; which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other. I would fain have it a match; and I doubt not to fashion it, if you three will but minifter fuch affiftance as I fhall give you direction. Leon. My Lord, I am for you, though it coft me ten nights watchings

Claud And I my Lord.

Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero &

Hero I will do any modeft office, my Lord, to help my coufin to a good husband

Pedro And Benedick is not the unhopfulleft husband that I know. Thus far I can praife him, he is of a noble strain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honefty. I will teach you how to humour your coufin, that she fhall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your two helps, will fo practise on Benedick, that in defpight of his quick wit, and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer, his glory fhall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. [Exeunt.

SCEN E VII.

Changes to another apartment in Leonato's houfe.
Enter Don John and Borachio.

John. It is fo, the Count Claudio fhall marry the daughter of Leonato

Bora. Yea, my Lord, but I can crofs it.

John.

John Any bar, any crofs, any impediment, will be medicinable to me; I am fick in difpleasure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou cross this marriage? Bora. Not honestly, my Lord; but fo covertly, that no dishonesty fhall appear in me.

John. Shew me briefly how.

Bora I think I told your Lordship a year fince, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waitinggentlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber-window. John. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?

Go

Bora. The poifon of that lies in you to temper. you to the Prince your brother; fpare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his honour in marrying the renown'd Claudio (whofe eftimation do you mightily hold up) to a contaminated stale fuch a one as Hero.

John. What proof fhall I make of that?

Bora. Proof enough to mifuse the Prince, to ver Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other iffue?

John. Only to defpite them I will endeavour any thing.

Bora. Go then find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone; tell them that you know Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as in a love of your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, (who is thus like to be cozen'd with the femblance of a maid), that you have difcover'd thus. They will hardly believe this without trial: offer them inftances, which fhall 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 fee this the very night before the intended wedding: for, in the mean time, I will fo fashion the matter, that Hero fhall be absent; and there fhall appear fuch seeming truths of Hero's difloyalty, that jealoufy

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jealoufy fhall be called affurance, and all the prepara

tion overthrown.

John. Grow this to what adverfe iffue it can, I will put it in practice: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

Bora. Be thou constant in the accufation, and my cunning fhall not fhame me.

John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage. [Exeunt,

SCENE VIII. Changes to Leonato's orchard. Enter Benedick, and a boy.

Bene. Boy,

Boy. Signior.

Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book, bring it hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already, Sir.

[Exit boy.

Bene. I know that, but I would have thee hence, and here again.I do much wonder, that one man, feeing how much another man is a fool, when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laugh'd at fuch fhallow follies in others, become the argument of his own fcorn, by falling in love! and fuch a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no mufic with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known when he would have walk'd ten mile a-foot to fee a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to fpeak plain, and to the purpose, like an honeft man and a foldier; and now he is turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantastical banquet, juft fo many frange difhes. May I be fo converted, and fee with thefe eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be fworn, but love may transform me to an oifter; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oifter of me, he shall never make me fuch a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wife, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well. But till all graces be in one woman, one woman fhall not come in my grace. Rich The fhall be, that's certain; "wife, or I'll none; vir

"tuous,

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"tuous, 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 mufician, and her hair fhall be of what colour it please God *. Ha! the Prince and Monfieur Love! I will [Withdraws.

hide me in the arbour.

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Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. Pedro. Come fhall we hear this mufic?

Claud. Yea, my good Lord; how ftill the evening is, As hufh'd on purpofe to grace harmony!

Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Claud. O very well, my Lord; the mufic ended, We'll fit the hid fox with a pennyworth.

Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that fong again.
Balth. O good my Lord, tax not so bad a voice
To flander mufic any more than once.

Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency,
To put a ftrange face on his own perfection;
I pray thee, fing; and let me woo no more t.

The S O N G.

Sigh no more, ladies, figh no more,
Men were decivers ever;

One foot on fea, and one on fhore,
To one thing conftant never:

* Hinting fatirically at the art ufed by ladies in dying their hair of a colour different from what it is by nature.

woo no more.

Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will fing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his fuit

To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes.
Yet will he fwear he loves.

Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come;

Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,

Do it in notes.

Balth. Note this before my notes,

There's not a note of mine, that's worth the noting.

Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks,

Note, notes, forfooth, and noting.

Bene Now, divine air; now is his foul ravih'd! Is it not strange, that sheeps guts fhould hale fouls out of mens bodies? Well, a horn, for my money, when all's done.

The SON G, &c.

Then

Then figh not fo, but let them go,
And be you blyth and bonny;
Converting all your founds of woe
Into Hey nony, nony.

Sing no more ditties, fing no mo
Of dumps fo dull and heavy ;
The frauds of men were ever fo,
Since fummer was first leafy.
Then figh not fo, &c.

Pedro. By my troth, a good fong.
Balth. And an ill finger, my Lord.

Pedro. Ha, no; no faith; thou fing'ft well enough for a fhift.

Bene." If he had been a dog, that fhould have "howl'd thus, they would have hang'd him; and, I pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief:" I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague

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could have come after it.

Pedro. Yea, marry, doft thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee get us fome excellent mufic; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamberwindow.

Balth. The best I can, my Lord. [Exit Balthazar. Pedro. Do fo: farewel. 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 ;

ftalk on, ftalk on, the fowl fits. I did never think that lady would have loved any

man.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that fhe fhould fo doat on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours feem'd ever to abhor..

Bene Is't poffible? fits the wind in that corner? [Afide. Leon. By my troth, my Lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that the loves him with an inraged affection, it is paft the definite of thought..

Pedro. May be fhe doth but counterfeit.
Claud Faith, like enough.

Leon. O God! counterfeit ? there was never coun

VOL. II.

C

terfeit

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