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shall be called affurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

John. Grow this to what adverse issue 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 accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.


SCENE VIII. Changes to Leonato's orchard.

Enter Benedick, and a boys
Bene. Boy,
Boy. Signior.

Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book, bring it
lither 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 dedi: cates his behaviours to love, will, after he hat hlaugh'd at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn, by falling in love! and such a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no music with him but the druin and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known when he would have walk'd ten miles a-foot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now he is turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantastical banquet, juft so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see with these eyes; I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn, but love

may 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

wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well. But till ail


be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.

Rich she shall be, that's certain; “ wise, or t’u none; vir

u л

" tuous,

tuous, or l'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 mufician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God * Ha! the Prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.

[Withdraws. SCENE IX. Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. 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!

Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?

Claud. O very well, my Lord; the music ended, We'll fit the hid fox with a pennyworth.

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.

Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency,
To put a strange face on his own perfection;
thee, fing; and let me woo no more to

Sigh no more, ladies, Sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and orte on shore,
To one thing constant never:

There Hinting satirically at the art used by ladies in dying their hait of a colour different from what it is by nature.

--Woo no more.

Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will fing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his fuit
To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes;
Yet will he swear he loves.

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 nine that's worth the noting.

Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks,
Note, notes, forsooth, and noting.

Bene. New, divine air; now is his soul ravish'd! Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a hora for my money, when all's donc.




Then figh not so, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your founds of woe

Into Hey nony, nony.
Sing no more ditties, fing no mo

Of dumps fo dull and heavy;
The frauds of men were ever lo,

Since summer was first leafy.
Then high not fo, &c.
Pedro. By my troth, a good song.
Balth. And an ill finger, my Lord.

Pedro. Ha, no; no, faith; thou fing'st 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, dost thou hear, Balthazar? I

pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. Balth. The best I can, my Lord.

Exit Balthazar.
Pedro. Do fo: farewell. Come hither, Leonato;

you told me of to-day, that your

niece Bea
trice was in love with Signior Benedick?
Claud. O, ay;

ftalk on, the fowl lits I did never think that lady would have loved any man.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she should so doat on Signior Benedick, whoin fhe hath in all outward behaviours seem'd ever to abhor. Bene. Is't poflible? fits the wind in that corner?

[Afíde. Leon. By my troth, my Lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affećtion ---- it is past the definite of thought.

Pedro. May be she doth but counterfeit.
Claud. Faith, like enough.
Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was never coun-
Vou. II.



what was

Italk on,


terfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she
discovers it.

Pedro. Why, what effects of paffion shews fhe?
Claud. Bait the hook well, this fish will bite.

[Afide. Leon. What effects, my Lord? she will fit you, you heard my daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did, indeed.
Pedro. How, how, I pray you? you amaze me:

1 would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of aifection.

Leon. I would have sworn it had, my Lord; especially against Benedick.

Bene. [Afidi.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot sure hide himfelf in such reverence. Claụd. He hath ta'en th' infection, hold it up.

[Alide. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?

Leon. No, and swears she never will: that's her tor. ment.

Cland. 'Tis true, indeed, fo 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 fit 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, I remember a pretty jeft your daughter told us of.

Leon. 0, 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 thoufand halfpence; rail'd at herself, that she should be so immodeft, to write to one that she knew wou'd flout her: I measure him, says she, by my own spirit, for I should flout him if he 'vrit to me; yea, though I love him, I Thould.


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Claud. Then down upon her knees the falls, weeps, fobs, beats' her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; O fweet Benedick! God give me patience!

Leon. She doth, indeed, my daughter says fo; and the ecstasy hath so much overborn her, that my daughter is fometimes afraid, she will do desperate outrage to herself; it is very true.

Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by fome other, if she will not discover it.

Claud. To what end? He would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.

Pedro. If 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 he is exceeding wife,
Pedra. In every thing, but in loving Benedick.

Leon. O my Lord, wisdom and blood combating in fo 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.

Pedro. I would she had bestow'd this dotage on me; I would have dafft 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 says, she will die if he love her not, and she will die ere she make her love kuown; and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accuftom'd Eroffness.

Pedro. She doth well; if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very poflible, he'll fcorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible fpirit.

Claud. He is a very proper man.
Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward happiness.
Claud. 'Fore God, and, in my

wife. Pedro. He doth indeed shew some sparks that are like wit.

Leon. And I take him to be valiant.

Pedro. As Hector, I assure you; and in the managing of quarı els you may fay he is wife; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them


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