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you of?

on the windy side of care.—My cousin tells him in dick;—and I, with your two helps, will so practise his ear, that he is in her heart.

on Benedick, that, in despite of his quick wit and Claud. And so she doth, cousin.

his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with BeatBeat. Good lord, for alliance! Thus goes every rice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an one to the world but I, and I am sun-burned : I may archer: his glory shall be ours, for we are the only sit in a corner, and cry heigh-ho for a husband ! love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my D. Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. drift.

[Exeunt. Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you?

SCENE II.-Another Room in LEONATO's House. Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

Enter Don John and BORACHIO. D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady?

D. John. It is so; the count Claudio shall marry Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another the daughter of Leonato. for working-days: your grace is too costly to wear Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. every day. —But, I beseech your grace, pardon me; D. John. Any bar, any cross, any impediment I was born to speak all mirth, and no matter. will be medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure

D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, ranges evenly with mine.

How canst thou cross you were born in a merry hour.

this marriage? Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but Bora. Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly then there was a star danced, and under that was I that no dishonesty shall appear in me. born.-Cousins, God give you joy!

D. John. Show me briefly how. Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told Bora. I think I told your lordship, a year since,

how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waitBeat. I cry you mercy, uncle.—By your grace's ing-gentlewoman to Hero. pardon.

(Exit. D. John. I remember. D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of the lady.

night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamberLeon. There's little of the melancholy element in window. her, my lord: she is never sad, but when she sleeps; D. John. What life is in that, to be the death of and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daugh- | this marriage? ter say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness, and Bora. The poison of that lies in you to temper. waked herself with laughing.

Go you to the prince your brother; spare not to tell D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a him, that he hath wronged his honour in marrying husband.

the renowned Claudio (whose estimation do you Leon. O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers mightily hold up) to a contaminated stale, such a out of suit.

one as Hero. D. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Bene D. John. What proof shall I make of that? dick.

Bora, Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Leon. O lord, my lord, if they were but a week Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look married, they would talk themselves mad!

you for any other issue? D. Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go D. John. Only to despite them, I will endeavour to church?

any thing. Claud. To-morrow, my lord : time goes on Bora. Go, then; find me a meet hour to draw crutches till love have all his rites.

Don Pedro and the count Claudio alone: tell them Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief, too, of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as,-in love to have all things answer my mind.

of your brother's honour, who hath made this match, D. Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be a breathing: but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time cozened with the semblance of a maid, ---that you shall not go dully by us. I will, in the interim, have discovered thus. They will scarcely believe undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to this without trial : offer them instances; which shall bring signior Benedick and the lady Beatrice into a bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chammountain of affection, the one with the other. I ber-window; hear me call Margaret, Hero; hear would fain have it a match; and I doubt not but to Margaret term me, Claudio; and bring them to see fashion it, if you three will but minister such assist this the very night before the intended wedding, – ance as I shall give you direction.

for in the meantime I will so fashion the matter that Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me Hero shall be absent;-and there shall appear such ten nights' watchings.

seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy Claud. And I, my lord.

shall be called assurance, and all the preparation D. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

overthrown. Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to D. John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, help my cousin to a good husband.

I will put it in practice. Be cunning in the workD. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullesting this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats. husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him; Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and my he is of a noble strain, of approved valour, and con cunning shall not shame me. firmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour D. John. I will presently go learn their day of your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Bene- marriage.


D. Pedro. Why these are very crotchets that he SCENE III.-LEONATO's Garden,

speaks; Enter BENEDICK.

Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing! [Music. Bene. Boy!

Bene. [Aside.] Now, divine air! now is his soul Enter a Boy.

ravished !-Is it not strange, that sheeps' guts should Boy. Signior?

hale souls out of men's bodies?- Well, a horn for Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring my money, when all's done. it hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already, Sir.
Bene. I know that: but I would have thee hence,

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever; and here again. [Exit Boy.] I do much wonder,

One foot in sea, and one on shore; that one man, seeing how much another man is a

To one thing constant never: fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will,

Then sigh not so,

But let them go, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in

And be you blithe and bonny; others, become the argument of his own scorn by

Converting all your sounds of woe falling in love: and such a man is Claudio. I have

Into, Hey nonny, nonny. known, when there was no music with him but the

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the

Of dumps so dull and heavy; tabor and the pipe: I have known, when he would

The fraud of men was ever so, have walked ten mile afoot to see a good armour;

Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so, &c. and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak

D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. plain, and to the purpose, like an honest man, and

Balth. And an ill singer, my lord. à soldier; and now is he turned orthographer; his

D. Pedro. Ha? no, no, faith; thou singest well words are a very fantastical banquet,-- just so many enough for a shift. strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see Bene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog that should with these eyes? I cannot tell ; I think not : I

have howled thus, they wo uld have hanged him; will not be sworn but love may transform me to an and I pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief! i oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. plague could have come after it. One woman is fair,--yet I am well; another is wise, Ď. Pedro. [To CLAUDIO.] Yea, marry.-Dost --yet I am well; another virtuous, -- yet I am well: thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us some but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have not come in my grace.

Rich she shall be, that's it at the lady Hero's chamber-window. certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never

Balth. The best I can, my lord. cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt BALTHAZAR or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; and Musicians.] Come hither, Leonato: what was of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her it you told me of to-day,--that your niece Beatrice hair shall be of what colour it please God.-Ha! was in love with signior Benedick? the prince and monsieur Love! I will hide me in Claud. O, ay :-[Aside to PEDRO.] Stalk on, stalk the arbour.

[Withdraws. on; the fowl sits. (Aloud.] I did never think that

lady would have loved any man. Enter Don Pedro, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO, followed by Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, BALTHAZAR and Musicians.

that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music?

she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to Claud. Yea, my good lord.—How still the even abhor, ing is,

Bene. [Aside.] Is't possible? Sits the wind in As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!

that corner? D. Pedro. [Aside to Claud.] See you where Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what Benedick hath hid himself?

to think of it: but that she loves him with an enClaud. [Aside to D. Pedro.] O, very well, my raged affection,—it is past the infinite of thought. lord: the music ended,

D. Pedro. May be, she doth but counterfeit. We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth.

Claud. 'Faith, like enough. D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song Leon, O God! counterfeit ! There was never again.

counterfeit of passion came so near the life of pasBalth. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice sion as she discovers it. To slander music any more than once.

D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, she? To put a strange face on his own perfection :

Claud. [Aside to them.] Bait the hook well; this I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.

fish will bite. Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing; Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you,-Since many a wooer doth commence his suit [TO CLAUDIO.] You heard my daughter tell you To her he thinks not worthy; yet he woos,

how. Yet will he swear, he loves.

Claud. She did, indeed. D. Pedro.

Nay, pray thee, come; D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,

me: I would have thought her spirit had been inDo it in notes.

vincible against all assaults of affection. Balth. Note this before my notes,

Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord; There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. especially against Benedick,

Bene. [Aside.] I should think this a gull, but that Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, D. Pedro. He doth indeed show some sparks that sure, hide himself in such reverence.

are like wit. Claud. [Aside to them.] He hath ta'en the infec Leon. And I take him to be valiant. tion: hold it up.

D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you : and in the D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for Benedick?

cither he avoids them with great discretion, or Leon. No; and swears she never will: that's her undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. torment.

Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily keep Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: peace: if he break the peace, he ought to enter into “Shall I," says she, “that have so oft encountered a quarrel with fear and trembling. him with scorn, write to him that I love him?"

D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth Leon. This says she now when she is beginning fear God, howsoever it seems not in him by some to write to him; for she 'll be up twenty times a large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for your night; and there will she sit in her smock, till she niece. Shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of have writ a sheet of paper :-my daughter tells us her love? all.

Claud. Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I re out with good counsel. member a pretty jest your daughter told us of. Leon. Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her

Leon, 0,—when she had writ it, and was reading heart out first. it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between D. Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your the sheet?

daughter: let it cool the while. I love Benedick Claud. That.

well; and I could wish he would modestly examine Leon. O, she tore the letter into a thousand half- himself, to see how much he is unworthy to have pence; railed at herself, that she should be so im so good a lady. modest to write to one that she knew would flout Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. her: “I measure him," says she, “ by my own Claud. [Aside to them.) If he do not dote on her spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, upon this, I will never trust my expectation. though I love him, I should.”

D. Pedro. [Aside to LEONATO.) Let there be Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, the same net spread for her; and that must your weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport cries,-"O sweet Benedick!

God give me pa will be, when ey hold one an pinion of another's tience!"

dotage, and no such matter: that's the scene that I Leon. She doth indeed: my daughter says so: would see, which will be merely a dumb show. and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her, that Let us send her to call him in to dinner. my daughter is sometime afcard she will do a des [Exeunt Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO. perate outrage to herself: it is very true.

Bene. [Advancing from the arbour.] This can be D. Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of no trick: the conference was sadly borne. They it by some other, if she will not discover it.

have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to Claud. To what end? He would but make a pity the lady: it seems, her affections have their sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse. full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited. I

D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang hear how I am censured: they say I will bear myhim. She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of self proudly, if I perceive the love come from her: all suspicion she is virtuous.

they say too, that she will rather die than give any Claud. And she is exceeding wise.

sign of affection.—I did never think to marry. D. Pedro. In everything, but in loving Bene I must not seem proud.--Happy are they that hear dick.

their detractions, and can put them to mending. Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating They say the lady is fair,—'tis a truth, I can bear in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, them witness; and virtuous,—'tis so, I cannot rethat blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as prove it; and wise, but for loving me: by my troth, I have just cause, being her uncle and her guar it is no addition to her wit; nor no great argument dian.

of her folly,--for I will be horribly in love with D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage her. I may chance have some odd quirks and on me: I would have daffed all other respects, and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have made her half myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of railed so long against marriage: but doth not the it, and hear what he will say.

appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth, Leon. Were it good, think you?

that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips, and Claud. Hero thinks surely she will die; for she sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, says she will die if he love her not; and she will awe a man from the career of his humour ? No; die, ere she make her love known; and she will die, the world must be peopled. When I said I would if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I of her accustomed crossness.

were married.—Here comes Beatrice. By this day, D. Pedro. She doth well : if she should make she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in tender of her love, 'tis very possible he 'll scorn it; her. for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible

Enter BEATRICE. spirit.

Beat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come Claud. He is a very proper man.

in to dinner. D. Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward hap Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. piness.

Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks,

than you take pains to thank me: if it had been Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman painful, I would not have come.

Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed, Bene. You take pleasure, then, in the message ? As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?

Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a Hero, O God of love! I know he doth deserve knife's point, and choke a daw withal.--You have As much as may be yielded to a man: no stomach, signior! fare you well.

[Exit. But nature never fram'd a woman's heart Bene. Ha! "

Against my will I am sent to bid Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice; you come in to dinner,”—there's a double meaning Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, in that. “I took no more pains for those thanks, Misprising what they look on; and her wit than you took pains to thank me,"—that's as much Values itself so highly, that to her as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, as thanks.-If I do not take pity of her, I am a Nor take no shape nor project of affection, villain : if I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go She is so self-endear'd. get her picture.

[Exii. Urs.

Sure, I think so;
And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,

How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featurd,

But she would spell him backward: if fair-fac'd, SCENE I.-LEONATO's Garden.

She'd swear the gentleman should be her sister; Enter Hero, MARGARET, and URSULA.

If black, why, nature, drawing of an antick, Hero. Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour;

Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;

If low, an agate very vilely cut; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds ; Proposing with the Prince and Claudio:

If silent, why a block moved with none. Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula

So turns she every man the wrong side out; Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse

And never gives to truth and virtue that Is all of her: say that thou overheard'st us;

Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. And bid her steal into the pleached bower,

Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun,

Hero. No; not to be so odd, and from all fashions, Forbid the sun to enter ;-like favourites,

As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: Made proud by princes, that advance their pride

But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, Against that power that bred it:—there will she hide

She would mock me into air: O, she would laugh me To listen our propose. This is thy office; [her, Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

Out of myself, press me to death with wit!

Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, Marg: I'll make her come, I warrant you, pre

Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: sently.


It were a better death than die with mocks, Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,

Which is as bad as die with tickling. As we do trace this alley up and down,

Urs. Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say. Our talk must only be of Benedick.

Hero. No; rather I will go to Benedick, When I do naine him, let it be thy part

And counsel him to fight against his passion. To praise him more than ever man did merit.

And, truly, I 'll devise some honest slanders My talk to thee must be, how Benedick

To stain my cousin with: one doth not know, Is sick in love with Beatrice. Or this matter

How much an ill word may empoison liking. Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,

Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin;

She cannot be so much without true judgment, Enter BEATRICE, behind.

(Having so swift and excellent a wit For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs As she is priz’d to have) as to refuse Close by the ground, to hear our conference. So rare a gentleman as signior Benedick.

Urs. The pleasant’st angling is to see the fish Hero. He is the only man of Italy, — Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,

Always excepted my dear Claudio. And greedily devour the treacherous bait :

Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, So angle we for Beatrice; who even now

Speaking my fancy: signior Benedick, Is couched in the woodbine coverture.

For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour, Fear you not my part of the dialogue. [nothing Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.

Urs, His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. [They advance to the bower. When are you married, madam? No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;

Hero. Why, every day to-morrow. Come, go in: I know her spirits are as coy and wild

I'll show thee some attires; and have thy counsel, As haggards of the rock.

Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
But are you sure

Urs. [Aside.] She's lim’d, I warrant you: we That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely ?

have caught her, madam. Hero. So says the prince, and my new-trothèd lord. Hero. (A side.] If it prove so, then loving goes by Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?

haps : Fiero. They did entreat me to acquaint her of it; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,

[Exeunt Hero and URSULA. To wish him wrestle with affection,

Beat. [Advancing.] What fire is in mine ears • And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Can this be true?

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