Act II.

should have howled thus, they would have hanged Bene. [Aside. An he had been a dog, that 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.

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 music.] Come hither, Leonato : What was it D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt Balthazar and monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick?

[Withdraws.

Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio.

D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music?
Claud. Yea, my good lord :-How still the
evening is,

As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
D. Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid
himself?

Claud. O, very well, my lord: the music ended,
We'll fit the kid-fox' with a penny-worth.

Enter Balthazar, with music.

D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again.

Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander music 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 woos;
Yet will he swear, he loves.

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

Note, note, forsooth, and noting! [Music Bene. Now, Divine air! now is his soul ravished!--Is it not strange, that sheep's 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,
Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in sea, and one on shore;
To one thing constant never :
Then sigh not so,

you

But let them go,
And be blith and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of wo
Into, Hey nonny, nonny.
II.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo12
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.
Balth. And an ill singer, my lord.

thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us some ex-
D. Pedro. Yea, marry; [To Claudio.]-Dost
cellent music; for to-morrow night we would have
it at the lady Hero's chamber-window.
Balth. The best I can, my lord.

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 abhor. she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to

Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?

Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what [Aside. to think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affection,-it is past the infinite of thought.3 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.

Leon. What effects, my lord! She will sit you,--[Aside. You heard my daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did indeed.

D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze me: I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.

cially against Benedick.
Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord; espe-

Bene. Aside I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence.

Claud. He hath ta'en the infection; 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 encounter'd 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 all.

Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.

Leon. When she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?

Claud. That.

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,

D. Pedro. Ha? no; no, faith; thou singest well though I love him, I should. enough for a shift.

(1) Young or cub-fox.

(2) Longer.

Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, (3) Beyond the power of thought to conceive.

Scene III.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

Benedick advances from above.
Bene. This can be no trick: the conference was

weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays,||
curses:--O sweet Benedick! God give me patience!
Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so sadly borne. They have the truth of this from
and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her, that Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her
my daughter is sometime afraid she will do a des-affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it
perate outrage to herself; It is very true.

D. Pedro. were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. Claud. To what end? He would make but a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.

D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang him: she's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous.

Claud. 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 on me; I would have daff'd2 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 he love her not; and she will says, she will die die ere she makes her love known: and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will 'bate one breath 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 contemptible3 spirit. Claud. He is a very proper man.

D. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness.

:

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; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness: and vir-
tuous;-'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
because I have railed so long against mar-
riage:-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 these
paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the ca-
reer 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

Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise.I 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.

me,

some marks of love in her.

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,
would not have come.

Bene. You take pleasure in the message?
Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a
no stomach, signior: fare you well.
knife's point, and choke a daw withal :-You have

[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 vilD. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth lain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go [Exit. get her picture. fear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some for large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry 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 heart out first.

her

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 dote on her upon this, I will
[Aside.
never trust my expectation.
D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for
her; and that must your daughter and her gentle-
woman 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
[Aside.
call him in to dinner.
[Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato.

(1) Alienation of mind,
3) Contemptuous.

(2) Thrown off. (4) Handsome.

Enter Hero,

ACT III.
SCENE I-Leonato's Garden.
Margaret, and Ursula.
Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour;
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
hide her,
Against that power that bred it :-there will she

To listen our propose: this is thy office,
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, pre-
[Exit
sently.
(5) Seriously carried ou.

(6) Discoursing

.

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

As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick:
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit:
My talk to thee must be, how Benedick
Is sick in love with Beatrice: of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin;

Enter Beatrice, behind.

For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.

Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait:
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture:
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
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.1

But are you sure,
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
Hero. So says the prince, and my new-trothed
lord.

Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
Hero. They did entreat 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
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But nature never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice :
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising? what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her

All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.

Scene III.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

Leon. Where is but a humour, or a worm? Bene. Well, every one can master a grief, but he that has it.

Claud. Yet say I, he is in love.

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, cir-
cumstances shortened (for she hath been too long
a talking of,) the lady is disloyal.
Claud. Who? Hero?

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 tomorrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, as a German from the waist downward, all slop;1 and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doubletro, 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 with him; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuffed tennis-balls.

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.

Enter Don John.

D. John. My lord and brother, God save you.
D. Pedro. Good den, brother.

D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak

with you.

D. Pedro. In private?

D. John. If it please you ;-yet count Claudio
inay hear; for what I would speak of concerns him.
D. Pedro. What's the matter?

D. John. Means your lordship to be married
[To Claudio.
to-morrow?
D. Pedro. You know he does.
D. John. I know not that, when he knows what
I know.

Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you
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 (1) Large loose breeches.

D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your He-
every man's Hero.
Claud. Disloyal?

say,

D. John. The word is too good to paint out her
she were worse; think
wickedness; I could
you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Won-
der 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 you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you know if you will follow me, 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!
Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting!
D. John. O plague right well prevented!
So will you say, when you have seen the sequel.

SCENE III-A street.

[Exeunt.

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 Seacoal; 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 constab.e,

Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is be the most senseless and fit man for the constable no need of such vanity. You are thought here to of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern: this is your charge; you shall comprehend all vagrom men: you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's

name.

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 Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, together, and thank God you are rid of a knave. he is none of the prince's subjects.

R

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?

now forward with thy tale.

Bora. Stand thee close then under this penthouse, for it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee.

Watch. [Aside.] Some treason, masters; yet stand close.

Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.

Con. Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?

Bora. Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possible any villany should be so rich; for when such villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may

Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are sober; if they make you not then the better answer,make what price they will. 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 so.

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.

Con. I wonder at it.

Bora. That shows thou art unconfirmed:2 thou knowest, that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is nothing to a man.

Con. Yes, it is apparel.

Bora. I mean the fashion.

Con. Yes, the fashion is the fashion.

Bora. Tush! I may as well say, the fool's the fool. But seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is?

Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven year; he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name.

Bora. Didst thou not hear somebody? Con. No; 'twas the vane on the house. Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods, between fourteen and five and thirty? sometime, fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers in the reechy3 painting; sometime, like god Bel's priests in the old church window; sometime, like the shaven Hercules in the smirched1 wormeaten tapestry, where his cod-piece seems as massy as his club?

Con. All this I see; 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 tonight wooed Margaret, the lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress' chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good night,-I tell this tale vilely :--I should first tell thee, how the prince, Claudio, and my master, planted and placed, and possessed by my master Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter.

Con. And thought they, Margaret was Hero?
Bora. Two of them did, the prince and Clau-

2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our chargedio; but the devil my master knew she was Marlet us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.

garet; and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by the dark night, which did deDogb. One word more, honest neighbours: Iceive them, but chiefly by my villany, which did pray you, watch about signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being there to-morrow, there is a great coil to-night: adieu, be vigilant, I beseech you. [Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. Enter Borachio and Conrade.

Bora. What! Conrade,-
Watch. Peace, stir not.

Bora. Conrade, I say!

Con. Here man, I am at thy elbow.

confirm any slander 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 over-night, and send her home again without a husband.

1 Watch. We charge you in the prince's name,

[Aside.stand.

2 Watch. Call up the right master constable : we have here recovered the most dangerous piece Bora. Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought of lechery that ever was known in the common

there would a scab follow.

Con. I will owe thee an answer for that; and

(1) Weapons of the watchmen.
(2) Unpractised in the ways of the world.

wealth.