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D. John. What proof shall I make of that? wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an
Bora. Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to honest man and a soldier; and now is he turned vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. orthographer ; his words are a very fantastical Look you for any other issue ?
banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be D. John. Only to despite them, I will endea- so converted, and see with these eyes? I canyour anything.
not tell; I think not. I will not be sworn but Bora. Go then, find me a meet hour to draw love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone : tell take
my oath on it, till he have made an oyster them, that you know that Hero loves me; intend of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as- woman is fair; yet I am well: another is wise ; in love of your brother's honour, who hath made yet I am well : another virtuous; yet I well: this match; and his friend's reputation, who is but till all graces be in one woman, one woman thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, maid—that you have discovered thus. They will that's certain ; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or scarcely believe this without trial : offer them in- | I'll never cheapen her ; fair, or I'll never look stances; which shall bear no less likelihood, than on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or to see me at her chamber-window ; hear me call not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excelMargaret, Hero; hear Margaret term me Clau- lent musician, and her hair shall be of what dio; and bring them to see this the very night colour it please God. Ha! the Prince and Monbefore the intended wedding : for, in the mean sieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. time, I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall
[Withdraws. be absent; and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be
Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and called assurance, and all the preparation over
D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this inusic? D. John. Grow this to what adverse issue it Claud. Yea, my good lord.—How still the can, I will put it in practice. Be cunning in the
evening is, working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats. As hushed on purpose to grace harmony !
Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and D. Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid my cunning shall not shame me.
himself? D. John. I will presently go learn their day Claud. O, very well, my lord: the music ended, of marriage.
[Exeunt. We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.
D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that
Balth. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice SCENE III.--LEONATO's Garden.
To slander music any more than once.
D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, Enter BENEDICK and a Boy.
To put a strange face on his own perfection : Bene. Boy,
I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. Boy. Signior.
Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book;
sing; bring it hither to me in the orchard.
Since many a wooer does commence his suit Boy. I am here already, sir.
To her he thinks not worthy; yet he woos; Bene. I know that;- but I would have thee Yet will he swear he loves. hence, and here again.
[Exit Boy. D. Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come: I do much wonder, that one man, seeing how Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, much another man is a fool when he dedicates Do it in notes. his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed Balth. Note this before my notes, at such shallow follies in others, become the There's not a note of mine that's worth the argument of his own scorn, by falling in love:
noting. And such a man is Claudio. I have known D. Pedro. Why these are very crotchets that when there was no music with him but the drum
he speaks; and fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor Note, notes, forsooth, and noting! [Music. and the pipe : I have known when he would Bene. Now, “Divine air!” now is his soul have walked ten mile a-foot, to see a good ar- ravished !-Is it not strange, that sheeps'-guts mour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, should hale souls out of men's bodies ?–Well, a carving the fashion of a new doublet.
horn for my money, when all's done.
Balthazar sings. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never :
Then sigh not so,
But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny; Converting all your sounds of woe
Into, Hey nonny, nonny.
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 nightraven, come what plague could have come after it.
D. Pedro. Yea, marry. [To Claudio.)—Dost thou hear, Balthazar ? I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window.
Balth. The best I
[Exeunt Balthazar and Music. Come hither, Leonato: What was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?
Claud. 0, 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,
can, my lord.
Sing no more ditties, sing no mo
Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so, &c.
D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song.
D. Pedro. Ha? no; no, faith ; thou singest well enough for a shift.
whom she hath, in all outward behaviours, curses:-"O sweet Benedick! God give me paseemed ever to abhor.
tience!" Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so: corner ?
[ Aside. and the ecstacy hath so much overborne her, that Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell my daughter is sometime afraid she will do a what to think of it; but that she loves him with desperate outrage to herself. It is very true. an enraged affection--it is past the infinite of D. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew thought.
of it by some other, if she will not discover it. D. Pedro. May be she doth but counterfeit. Claud. To what end? He would but make a Claud. 'Faith, like enough.
sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse. Leon. O God! counterfeit! There never was D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to counterfeit of passion came so near the life of hang him. She's an excellent sweet lady; and, passion, as she discovers it.
out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shews Claud. And she is exceeding wise. she?
D. Pedro. In every thing but in loving BeneClaud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. dick.
[Aside. Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combatLeon. What effects, my lord! She will sit you ing in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to -you heard my daughter tell you how.
one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for Claud. She did, indeed.
her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze her guardian. me: I would have thought her spirit had been D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this invincible against all assaults of affection. dotage on me; I would have daffed all other
Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord; respects, and made her half myself. I pray you especially against Benedick.
tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will say. Bene. [ Aside.] I should think this a gull, but Leon. Were it good, think you ? that the white-bearded fellow speaks it : knavery Claud. Hero thinks surely she will die ; for cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence. she says, she will die if he love her not; and Claud. He hath ta'en the infection; hold it up. she will die ere she make her love known; and
[Aside. she will die if he woo her, rather than she will D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known 'bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. to Benedick?
D. Pedro. She doth well: if she should make Leon. No; and swears she never will : that's tender of her love, 't is very possible he 'll scorn her torment.
it: for the man, as you know all, hath a conClaud. 'Tis true, indeed ; so your daughter temptible spirit. says : “Shall I,” says she, “that have so oft en- Claud. He is a very proper man. countered him with scorn, write to him, that I D. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward love him?"
happiness. Leon. This says she now when she is begin- Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. ning to write to him: for she'll be up twenty D. Pedro. He doth, indeed, shew some sparks times a night; and there will she sit in her that are like wit. smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper :--my
Leon. And I take him to be valiant. daughter tells us all.
D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you: and in Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I re- ! the managing of quarrels you may see he is wise; member a pretty jest your daughter told us of. for either he avoids them with great discretion,
Leon. 0 !-when she had writ it, and was or undertakes them with a most Christian-like reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice fear. between the sheet ?
Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily Claud. That.
keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to Leon. O! she tore the letter into a thousand enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. halfpence; railed at herself, that she should D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man be so immodest to write to one that she knew doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him, would flout her: “I measure him," says she, by some large jests he will make. Well, I am " by my own spirit; for I should flout him if he sorry for your niece. Shall we go see Benedick, writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.” and tell him of her love?
Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, 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 to have 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.
-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? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips, and sentences, and
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.
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; 't is a truth, I can bear them witness: and virtuous ;— 't is so, I cannot reprove it: and wise, but for loving me:
Enter BEATRICE. Beat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
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.
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.—You have no stomach, signior; fare you well. (Exit.
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.”—If I 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.
ACT || 1.
Scene I.-LEONATO's Garden.
And greedily devour the treacherous bait :
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula. Is couched in the woodbine coverture. Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour; Fear you not my part of the dialogue. There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose Proposing with the Prince and Claudio:
nothing Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
[They advance to the bower. Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us ; No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful; And bid her steal into the pleachéd bower, I know her spirits are as coy and wild Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, As haggards of the rock. Forbid the sun to enter ;-like favourites,
Urs. But are you sure Made proud by princes, that advance their pride That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? Against that power that bred it :-there will she Hero. So says the Prince and my new-trothéd hide her,
lord. To listen our propose. This is thy office;
Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it: Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, presently.
[Exit. To wish him wrestle with affection, Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, And never to let Beatrice know of it. As we do trace this alley up and down,
Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Our talk must only be of Benedick:
Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed, When I do name him, let it be thy part
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon ? To praise him more than ever man did merit: Hero. O god of love! I know he doth deserve My talk to thee must be, how Benedick
As much as may be yielded to a man : Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter But Nature never framed a woman's heart Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice : That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin ; Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on; and her wit Enter Beatrice, behind.
Values itself so highly, that to her For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs All matter else seems weak : she cannot love, Close by the ground, to hear our conference. Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish She is so self-endeared. Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
Sure, I think so;