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the streets ; for, for the watch to babble and talk, is moft tolerable, and not to be endur'd.
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 ale“ houses, and bid them that are drunk get them to 66 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 fay, 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 defile : the most peace
do take a thief, is, to let him thew himself what he is, and steal out of your company.
Verg. You have been always call?d 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 the Prince in the night, you may 1tay him. Vol. II.
Verg. Nay, birlady, that, I think, he cannot.
Dogb. Five shillings to one on’t with any man that knows the statutes, 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. Birlady, I think it be fo.
Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! well, masters, good night; an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me; keep your fellow's counsels and your own, and good night. Come, neighbour.
2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge ; let us go fit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all
Dogb. One word more, honeft neighbours. I pray you watch about Signior Leonato's door, for the wedding being there to-morrow, there is a great coil tonight. Adieu; be vigilant, I beseech you.
[Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. SCENE V. Enter Borachio and Conrade. Bora. What? ConradeWatch. Peace, stir not.
[-Aside. Bora. Conrade, I say. Conr. Here, man, I am at thy elbow.
Bora. Mass, and my elbow itch'd, I thought there would a scab follow.
Conr. I will owe thee an answer for that, and now forward with thy tale.
Bora. Stand 'thee close then under this pent-house, for it drizzles - rain, and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee.
Watch. Some treason, masters ; yet stand close.
Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
Conr. Is it possible that any villany should be so dear ?
Bora. Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possible any villain should be so rich ? for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
Conr. I wonder at it.
Bora. That shews, thou art unconfirm'd ; thou knoweft, that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is nothing to a man.
Conr. Yes, it is apparel.
Bora. Tush, I may as well say, the fool's the fool ; but feest thou not, what a deformed thief this fashion is ?
Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief these seven years; he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name.
Bora. Didst ghou not hear some body?
Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is ? how giddily he turns about all the hotbloods between fourteen and five and thirty, sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers in the reachy painting, sometimes like the God Bel's priests in the old church window ; sometimes like the shaven Hercules * in the smirch worm-eaten tapestry, where his çodpiece seems as massy as his club.
Conr. All this I fee, and see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man; but art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion ?
Bora. Not so neither; but know, that I have to-night wooed Margaret, the Lady Heroe's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero ; she leans me out at her mistress's chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good night-I tell this tale vildly-I should first tell thee, how the Prince, Claudio, and my master, planted and placed, and possessed by my master Don John, saw a far off in the orchard this amiable encounter,
Conr. And thought they Margaret was Hero?
Bora. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret ; and partly by his oaths, which first poffess'd them; partly by the dark night, which did deceive them ; but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any Nander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore, he would meet her as he was appointed next morning at the
temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night, and send her home again without a husband.
1 Watch, We charge you in the Prince's name, ftand.
2 Watch, Call up the right Master Constable ; we have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the common-wealth,
1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock.
Conr. Masters, Masters
2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deform.ed forth, I warrant you
I Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us obey you to go with us.
Bora. We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of these mens bills.
Conr. A commodity in question, I warrant you: cone, we'll obey you.
SCENE VI. Here's apartment in Leonato's house.
Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula. Hero. Good Ursula, wake my coufio Beatrice, and desire her to rife.
Urf. I will, Lady.
[Exit. Marg. Troth, I think your other rebato were better. Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.
Marg. By my troth, it's not fo good; and I warrant your cousin will say so.
Hero. My cousin's a fool, and thou art another. I'll wear none but this.
Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare fashion, i' faith. I saw the Dutchess of Milan's gown, that they praise fo.
Hero. O, that exceeds, they say.
Marg. By my troth, it's but a night-gown in respect of your's; cloth of gold and cuts, and lac'd with silver, . set with pearls down-sleeves, fide-sleeves and skirts,
round underborne with a bluish tinsel; but for a fine, queint, graceful, and excellent fashion, your’s is worth ten on't.
Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy!
Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man. Hero. Fie upon thee, art not asham’d?
Marg. Of what, Lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your Lord honourable without marriage? I think you would have me say (saving your reverence) a husband. If bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend no body; is there any harm in the heavier for a husband ? None, I think, if it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwise 'tis light and not heavy. Ask my Lady Beatrice else, here she comes.
SCENE VII. Enter Beatrice.
Hero. Why, how now? do you speak in the fick tune?
Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks,
Marg. Clap us into Light o' love; that goes without a burden; do you sing it, and I'll dance it.
Beat. Yes, Light o love with your heels; then if your husband have stables enough, you'll look he shall lack no barns.
Marg. O illegitimate construction ! I scorn that with
Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; ʼtis time you were ready: by my troth, I am exceeding ill; hey ho!
Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
Marg, Well, if you be not turnd Turk, there's no more sailing by the star.
Beat. What means the fool, trow ?
Marg. Nothing I, but God send every one their heart's desire !
Hero. These gloves the Count sent me; they are an excellent perfume.
Beat. I am stuff’d, coufin, I cannot smell,