count Claudio, whom you fent me to feek.

Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are you fad ? Claud. Not fad, my lord.

Pedro. How then? fick ?

Claud. Neither, my lord.

Beat. The count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well but civil, count; civil as an orange, and fomething of that jealous complexion.

Pedro. I'faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true ; though, I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe.Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and his good-will obtained name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy!

Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace fay amen to it!

Beat. Speak, count, 'tis your cue.

Claud. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy : I were but little happy, if I could fay how much.-Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you, and doat upon the exchange.

Beat. Speak, coufin; or, (if you cannot) ftop his mouth with a kifs, 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 befeech your grace, pardon me; I was born to speak all mirth, and no matter.

Pedro. Your filence most offends me, and to be merry beft becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.

Beat. No, fure, my lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a ftar danc'd, 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.

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, fhe hath often dream'd of an 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.

Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

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

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 seven-night; and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us: I will, in the interim, undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring fignior Benedick, and the lady Beatrice, into a mountain of affection, the one with another. I would fain have it a match; and I doubt not to fashion it, if you three will but minister fuch affiftance 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 cousin to a good husband.

Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know: thus far I can praife him; he is of a noble ftrain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honefty. I will teach you how to humour your coufin, that the

fhall fall in love with Benedick :-and I, with your two helps, will fo practice 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 II.

Another Apartment in LEONATO's House.

JOHN, and BORACHIO.

Enter Don

John. It is fo; the count Claudio fhall marry the daughter of Leonato.

Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.

John. Any bar, any crofs, any impediment, will be medicinal to me: I am fick, in difpleasure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou crofs this marriage?

Bora. Not honeftly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall 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 waiting gentlewoman 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, (whose estimation 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 mifufe 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 hon

our, who hath made this match; and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozen'd with the semblance of a maid, that you have discover'd thus. They will hardly believe this without trial offer them instances; which shall 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 so fashion the matter, that Hero fhall be abfent; and there fhall appear fuch feeming truths of Hero's difloyalty, that jealousy fhall 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 fhall not shame me.

John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

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, fir.

Bene. I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. [Ex. Boy.]-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 afoot, to fee 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 honeft man, and a foldier; and now is he turn'd orthographer; his words are a very fantasțical banquet, juft fo many ftrange dishes. 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 oyfter; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall 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; 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 difcourse, 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.

Enter Don PEDRO, LEONATO, CLAUDIO, and BAL

THAZAR.

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 kid-fox with a penny-worth.

Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that fong again.
Balth. O good my lord, tax not so 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 :-
I pray thee, fing, and let me woo no more.
Balth. Becaufe 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 fwear, 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 mine, that's worth the noting. Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks; Note, notes, forsooth, and noting !

Bene. Now, divine air! now is his foul ravish'd !-Is it not strange, that sheeps guts should hale fouls out of men's bodies? Well, à horn for my money, when all's done.