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Beat. Speak, coufin, or (if you cannot) ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak neither.

Pedro. In faith, Lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. Yea, my Lord, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy fide of care; my coufin tells him in his ear, that he is in her heart.

Claud. And fo fhe doth, coufin.

"Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd; I may fit in a corner, and cry Heigh ho! for a husband.

Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your Grace ne'er a brother like you your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

Pedro. Will you have me, Lady?

Beat. No, my Lord, unless I might have another for working days; your Grace is too coftly to wear every day but I beseech your Grace pardon me, I was born to speak all mirth, and no matter.

:

Pedro. Your filence moft offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of queftion, you were born in a merry hour.

Beat. No, fure, my Lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a ftar danced, and under that I was born: Coufins, God give you joy.

Leon. Niece, will you look to thofe things I told you of?

Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle: by your Grace's pardon. [Exit Beatrice.

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Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady, Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my Lord; fhe is never fad but when fhe fleeps; and not ever fad then; for I have heard my daughter fay, the hath often dream'd of unhappiness, and wak'd herfelf with laughing.

Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. Leon. O, by no means, fhe mocks all her wooers out of fuit.

1 Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leon

Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themselves mad.

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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 juft feven-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 fhall 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 faíhion it, if you three will but minister such affistance 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 ftrain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour your coufin, that she fhall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your twe helps, will fo pratife on Benedick, that in despight of his quick wit, and his queafy ftomach, he fhall 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.

SCENE 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 cross it.

John.

John. Any bar, any crofs, any impediment, will be medicinable to me; I am fick in difpleafure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou crofs this marriage? Bora Not honefly, my Lord; but fo covertly, that no di honefty 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 unfeasonable inftant 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?

Bora. The poifon of that lies in you to temper. Go 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 ftale fuch a one as Hero.

John. What proof fhall I make of that?

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

John. Only to despite 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 discover'd thus. They will hardly believe this without trial: offer them inftances, which thall bear no lefs 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 fafhion the matter, that Hero fhall be abfent; and there fhall appear fuch feeming truths of Herc's difloyalty, that jealoufy

jealousy shall be called affurance, and all the preparation 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 conftant in the accufation, and my cunning shall not shame 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 purpofe, like an honeft man and a foldier; and now he is turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantastical banquet, juft fo many ftrange difhes. May I be fo converted, and fee with these 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 fhall 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 fhe fhall be, that's certain; "wife, or I'll none; vir

"tuous,

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

hide me in the arbour.

SCENE

[Withdraws.

IX.

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 purpose 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 fo bad a voice To flander mufic any more than once.

Pedro. It is the witnefs ftill of excellency, To put a ftrange face on his own perfection; pray thee, fing; and let me woo no more †.

'I

The SON G.

Sigh no more, ladies, figh no more,

Men were deceivers ever;

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

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

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Balth. Because you talk of wocing, 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.

Fedra. Nay, pray thee, come;

Or if thou wilt hoid 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, thefe are very crotchets that he speaks,

Note, notes, ferfooth, and noting.

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

The SON G, &c.

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