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: and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her, that sadly borne."-They have the truth of this from my daughter is sometimes afraid she will do a des-Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it perate outrage to herself; It is very true. D. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they

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.

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 D. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. tuous;-'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating for loving me :-By my troth, it is no addition to her in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that wit; nor no great argument of her folly, for I will blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have be horribly in love with her.-I may chance have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage me, because I have railed so long against maron me; I would have daff'd all other respects, and rage:-But doth not the appetite alter? A man made her half myself: I pray you, tell Benedick loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure of it, and hear what he will say. in his age: shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the ca

Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks surely, she will die: for she reer of his humour? No: the world must be peopled. says, she will die if he love her not; and she will When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not die ere she makes her love known; and she will think I should live till I were married.-Here comes die if he woo her, rather than she will 'bate one Beatrice: By this day, she's a fair lady; I do spy breath of her accustomed crossness. some marks of love in her.

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 contemptible spirit. Claud. He is a very proper man.

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

Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. D. Pedro. He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit.

Leon. And I take him to be valiant.

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

[Exit.

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 un- Bene. Ha! Against my will I am sent to bid dertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. you come to dinner-there's a double meaning in Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily that. I took no more pains for those thanks, than keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to you took pains to thank me-that's as much as to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as

D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth thanks:-If I do not take pity of her, I am a vilfear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some lain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for get her picture. 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 her SCENE I.-Leonato's Garden.

heart out first.

[Exit.

ACT III.

Enter Hero,

Margaret and Ursula.

D. Pedro. Well, we'll hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour; well; and I could wish he would modestly examine There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a Proposing with the prince and Claudio: lady. Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us; never trust my expectation. [Aside. And bid her steal into the pleached bower, D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun, her; and that must your daughter and her gentle- Forbid the sun to enter;-like favourites, woman carry. The sport will be, when they hold Made proud by princes, that advance their pride one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such Against that power that bred it:-there will she matter; that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her to To listen our propose: this is thy office, call him in to dinner. [Aside. Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. [Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato. Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. [Exit.

(1) Alienation of mind. 3) Contemptuous.

(2) Thrown off.
(4) Handsome.

hide her,

(5) Seriously carried on. (6) Discoursing.

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

Hero. So says the prince, and my new-trothed Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

[Exeunt Hero and Ursula. Beatrice advances.

Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?

Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!

D. John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonthere is no believing old signs: he brushes his hat der not till further warrant: go but with me too'mornings; what should that bode?

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 no need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern: this D. John. I know not that, when he knows what is your charge; you shall comprehend all vagrom I know.

Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you name. 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.

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 Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are so-villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may ber; if they make you not then the better answer, 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.

make what price they will.

Con. I wonder at it.

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

a

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 reechy painting; sometime, like god Bel's priests in the old church window; sometime, like the shaven Hercules in the smirched 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 Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, con- thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou stable, are to present the prince's own person; if hast shifted out of thy tale to tell me of the you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him. fashion?

Verg. Nay, by'r lady, that I think he cannot.

Bora. Not so neither: but know, that I have toDogb. Five shillings to one on't, with any man night wooed Margaret, the lady Hero's gentlewothat knows the statues, he may stay him: marry, man, by the name of Hero: she leans me out at not without the prince be willing: for, indeed, the her mistress' chamber-window, bids me a thousand watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offence times good night,-I tell this tale vilely:-I should 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.

2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.

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 Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, Dogb. One word more, honest neighbours: Ibut chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any 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.

slander that Don Jonn 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 nome again without a husband.

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

Bora. Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought 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.

Con. Masters, masters.

Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's

2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, no more sailing by the star.

I warrant you.

Con. Masters,

1 Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us obey you to go with us.

Bora. We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken of these men's bills.

up

Beat. What means the fool, trow? Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!

Hero. These gloves the count sent me, they are an excellent perfume.

Beat. I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell. Marg. A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly [Exeunt. catching of cold.

Con. A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you.

SCENE IV-A room in Leonato's house. ter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.

Beat. O, God help me! God help me! how En-long have you profess'd apprehension?

Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise.

Urs. I will, lady.

Hero. And bid her come hither.
Urs. Well.

[Exit Ursula. Marg. Troth, I think, your other rabato1 were better.

Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. Marg. By my troth, it's not so good; and I warrant, your cousin will say so.

Hero. My cousin's a fool, and thou art another; I'll wear none but this.

Marg. Ever since you left it: doth not my wit become me rarely?

Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap.-By my troth, I am sick.

Marg. Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thistle. Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral' in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy thistle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love: nay, by'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, I list; nor I list not to think what I can; nor, inif the hair were a thought browner: and your deed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart gown's a most rare fashion, j'faith. I saw the out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you duchess of Milan's gown, that they praise so. will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Hero. O, that exceeds, they say. Benedick was such another, and now is he become Marg. By my troth it's but a night-gown in re- a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet spect of yours: Cloth of gold, and cuts, and laced now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat withwith silver; set with pearls, down sleeves, side-out grudging: and how you may be converted, I sleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a bluish know not; but methinks, you look with your eyes tinsel: but for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excel-as other women do. lent fashion, your's is worth ten on't.

Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy!

Marg. Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of

a man.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Marg. Not a false gallop.

Re-enter Ursula.

Urs. Madam, withdraw; the prince, the count, signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town, are come to fetch you to church.

Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. [Exeunt.

Hero. Fie upon thee! art not ashamed? Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think you would have me say, saving your reverence,— a husband: an bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend nobody: Is there any harm inthe heavier for a husband? None, I think, an if it be the right husband, and the right wife; otherwise, 'tis light, and not heavy: Ask my lady Bea-bour? trice else, here she comes.

Enter Beatrice.

Hero. Good morrow, coz.
Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero.

Hero. Why, how now! do you speak in the sick tune?

SCENE V.-Another room in Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Leon. What would you with me, honest neigh-

Dogb. Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you, that decerns you nearly.

Leon. Brief, I pray you; for you see, 'tis a busy time with me.

Dogb. Marry, this it is, sir.
Verg. Yes, in truth it is, sir.

Leon. What is it, my good friends?

Dogb. Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. the matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not Marg. Clap us into-Light o' love; that goes so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were; without a burden; do you sing it, and I'll dance it. but, in faith, honest, as the skin between his brows. Beat. Yea, Light o' love, with your heels!- Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any then if your husband have stables enough, you'll man living, that is an old man, and no honester see he shall lack no barns.

Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

Beat. "Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; 'tis time you were ready. By my troth I am exceeding ill ;hey ho!

Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
Beal. For the letter that begins them all, H.4
(1) A kind of ruff.
Long-sleeves.

(2) Head-dress.
(4) i. e. for an ache or pain.

than I.

Dogb. Comparisons are odorous: palabras, neighbour Verges.

Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious.

Dogb. It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor duke's officers; but, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. Leon. All thy tediousness on me! ha!

(5) Hidden meaning.