SCENE VIII. Leonato's Garden. Bene, Boy! Bene. In my chamber-window lyes 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 seeing how much another man is a fool, when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laught at such 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 mufick with him but the drum and the fife, and now had he rather hear the taber 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 lye 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 is he turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantastical banquet, just fo many ftrange difhes. May I be fo converted, and fee with thefe eyes? I cannot tell, I think not. I will not be fworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, 'till he have made an oyfter 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 the fhall be, that's certain; wife, 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 difcourfe, an excellent mufician, and her hair fhall be of what colour it please God *. Ha! the Prince and Monfieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. [Withdraws. SCENE IX. Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. Pedro, Come, fhall we hear this musick? Hinting fatirically at the art ufed by Ladies in dying their hair of a colour different from what it is by nature. Claud Glaud. Yea, my good Lord; how still the evening is, As hufh'd on purpofe to grace harmony! Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that fong again, Pedro. It is the witnefs ftill of excellency, Sigh no more, Ladies, figh no more, One foot in fea, and one on fhore, Sing no more ditties, fing no more, Pedro. By my troth, a good fong. + ---- Woo no more. Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will fing, Pedro. Nay, pray thee come, Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Balib. 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 ipeaks, Note notes forfooth, and nothing. Bene. Now, divine air; now is his foul ravifh'd! is it not ftrange, that fheeps guts fhould hale fouls out of mens bodies? well, a horn for my mony, when all's done. The SONG, I. Pedro Pedro. Ha, no, no, 'faith; thou fing'ft well enough for a shift. Bene, If he had been a dog that should have howl'd thus, they would have hang'd 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. Pedro. Yea marry: doft thou hear, Balthazar ? I pray thee, get us fome excellent mufick; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. Balth. The beft I can, my Lord. [Exit Balth. Pedro. Do fo: farewel. Come hither, Leonato; what was it you told me of to-day, that your neice Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? Claud. O ay, ftalk on; ftalk on, the fowl fits. I did never think that Lady would have loved any man. Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she fhould fo doat on Signior Benedick, whom he hath in all outward behaviour feem'd ever to abhor. Bene. Is't poffible, fits the wind in that corner? [Afide. Leon. By my troth, my Lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that the loves him with an inraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought. Pedro. May be the doth but counterfeit. Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was never counterfeit of paffion came fo near the life of paffion as the difcovers it. Pedro. Why, what effects of paffion fhews she? [Speaking low. Leon. What effects, my Lord? fhe will fit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. Claud. She did indeed. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? you amaze me: I would have thought her fpirit had been invincible against all affaults of affection. Leon. I would have fworn it had, my Lord, especially against Benedick. Bene, I fhould think this a gull, but that the white bearded bearded fellow fpeaks it; knavery cannot sure hide himself in fuch reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en th' infection; hold it up. [Afide. Speaking low. Pedro. Hath fhe made her affection known to Benedick? Leon. No, and fwears the never will, that's her torment. Claud. "Tis true indeed, fo your daughter fays: fhall I, fays fhe, that have fo oft encounter'd him with scorn, write to him that I love him? Leon. This fays fhe now, when she is beginning to write to him; for fhe'll be up twenty times a-night, and there will fhe fit in her fmock, 'till the have writ a fheet of per; my daughter tells us all. pa Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jeft your daughter told us of. Leon. O, when he had writ it, and was reading it over, the found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet. Claud, That. Leon. O, fhe tore the letter in a thousand halfpence, rail'd at her felf, that she should be fo immodeft, to write to one that she knew wou'd flout her: I measure him, fays fhe, by my own fpirit, for I fhould flout him if he writ to me, yea, though I love him, I should. Claud. Then down upon her knees fhe falls, weeps, fobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; O sweet Benedick! God give me patience! Leon. She doth indeed, my daughter fays fo, and the ecftafie hath fo much overborn her, that my daughter is. sometime afraid he will do a defperate outrage to her felf; it is very true. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of it by fome other, if he will not difcover it. Claud. To what end? he would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor Lady worse. Pedro. If he fhould, it were an alms to hang him; fhe's an excellent fweet Lady, and (out of all fufpicion) the is virtuous. Claud. And the is exceeding wife. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. Lean. O my Lord, wifdom and blood combating in fo tender tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory; I am forry for her, as I have juft caufe, being her uncle and her guardian. Pedro. I would fhe had beftow'd this dotage on me; I would have dofft all other respects, and made her half my felf; I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will fay. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks furely fhe will die, for the fays fhe will die if he love her not, and fhe will die ere the make her love known; and fhe will die if he woo her, rather than fhe will bate one breath of her accuftom'd croffness. Pedro. She doth well; if the fhould make tender of her love, 'tis very poffible he'll fcorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptuous fpirit. Claud. He is a very proper man. Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward happiness. Pedro. As Hector, I affure you; and in the managing of quarrels you may fee he is wife; for either he avoids them with great difcretion, or undertakes them with a chriftianlike fear. Well, I am forry for your neice: fhall we go fee Benedick, and tell him of her love? Claud. Never tell him, my Lord; let her wear it out with good counfel. Leon. Nay, that's impoffible, fhe may wear her heart out firft. . Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well, and I could wish he would modeftly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy to have fo good a Lady. Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. a chriftian-like fear. Leon. If he do fear God, he muft neceffarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. Pedro. And fo will he do, for the mah doth fear God, howfcever it feems not in him, by tome large jefts he will make. Well, br. Claud, |