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, To praise him more than ever man did merit: Is sick in love with Beatrice: of this matter Enter Beatrice, behind. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it- Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? And never to let Beatrice know of it. Which is as bad as die with tickling. Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say. Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. Urs. His excellence did earn it, ere he had it,When are you married, madam? Hero. Why, every day;-to-morrow: come, go in; I'll show thee some attires; and have thy counsel, Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow. Urs. She's lim'd, I warrant you; we have caught her, madam. Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: 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? Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu! Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed, As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? Hero. O god of love! I know, he doth deserve All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Urs. If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds: Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. No glory lives behind the back of such. And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee; Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand; If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee To bind our loves up in a holy band: For others say, thou dost deserve; and I Believe it better than reportingly. SCENE II-A room in Leonato's house. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato. [Exit. D. Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then I go toward Arragon. Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me. D. Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage, as to show a child his new coat, and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring, and the little hangman dares not shoot at him: he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks. Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been. D. Pedro. Hang him, truant; there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love: if he be sad, he wants money. Bene. I have the tooth-ach. D. Pedro. Draw it. Bene. Hang it! Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it after wards. D. Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach? (5) Ensnar'd with birdlime. Leon. Where is but a humour, or a worm? he that has it. Claud. Yet say I, he is in love. 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 to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, as a German from the waist downward, all slop and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet: 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 worяan, 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? Cland. 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 may hear; for what I would speak of concerns him. D. Pedro. What's the matter? D. John. Means your lordship to be married tomorrow? [To Claudio. 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 breccles. 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 talking of) the lady is disloyal. Claud. Who? Hero? a D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero. Claud. Disloyal? D. John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant: go but with me tonight, 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, I 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 ! [Exeunt. SCENE III-A street. 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. God Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. 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 constable, 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 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 together, and thank God you are rid of a knave. Verg, If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects, 129 Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none now forward with thy tale. but the prince's subjects:-you shall also make no noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble and for it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard, Bora. Stand thee close then under this penthouse, talk, is most tolerable, and not to be endured. utter all to thee. 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? Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are sober; 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 ery 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? Watch. [Aside.] Some treason, masters; yet stand close. John a thousand ducats. Con. Is it possible that any villany should be so Con. Here man, I am at thy elbow. 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. R Con. Masters, masters. Marg. Well, an you be no', 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 up of these men's bills. 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? [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 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, i'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 froth 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? 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. I am out of all other tune, methinks. Marg. Clap us into-Light o' love; that goes without a burden; do you sing it, and I'll dance it. Beat. Yea, Light of love, with your heels!then if your husband have stables enough, you'll 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? SCENE V.-Another room in Leonato's house. 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. Leon. What is it, my good friends? Dogb. Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were; but, in faith, honest, as the skin between his brows. Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no honester 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, Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis: for I hear as good exclamation on your worship, as of any man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it. Verg. And so am I. Leon. I would fain know what you have to say. Verg. Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting your worship's presence, have ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina. Leon. I dare make his answer, none. Claud. O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do! Bene. How now! interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as, ha! ha! he! Claud. Stand thee by, friar:-Father, by your Will you with free and unconstrained soul Dogb. A good old man, sir; he will be talking; Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose worth, Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you. Dogb. Gifts, that God gives. Dogb. One word, sir: our watch, sir, have, indeed, comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship. Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you. Dogb. It shall be suffigance. D. Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again. There, Leonato, take her back again; Leon. Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well. Not knit my soul to an approved wanton. Enter a Messenger. Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband. Leon. I will wait upon them; I am ready. [Exeunt Leonato and Messenger. Dogb. Go, good partner, go; get you to Francis Seacol, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the gaol; we are now to examination these men. Verg. And we must do it wisely. Dogb. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you; here's that [Touching his forehead.] shall drive some of them to a non com only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the goal. [Exeunt. Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof Claud. I know what you would say; If I have You'll say, she did embrace me as a husband, I Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you? I Hero. Is my lord well, that he doth speak so Leon. Sweet prince, why speak not you? Bene. This looks not like a nuptial. Claud. Leonato, stand I here? Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother? Leon. All this is so; but what of this, my lord? daughter; And, by that fatherly and kindly power 7 |