For others fay thou dost deserve, and I

Believe it better than reportingly.

[Exit.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick and Leonato. Pedro. I do but ftay 'till your Marriage be confummate, and then I go toward Arragon.

Cland. I'll bring you thither my Lord, if you'll vouchfafe me.

Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a Soil in the new Glofs of your Marriage, as to fhew 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 Soul of his Foot he is all Mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's Bow-String. and the little Hangman dare not shoot at him; he hath a Heart as found as a Bell, and the Tongue is the Clapper; for what his Heart thinks, his Tongue fpeaks.

Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been.

Leon. So fay I; methinks you are fadder.
Claud. I hope he be in Love.

Pedro. Hang him Truant, there's no true Drop of Blood in him, to be truly touch'd with Love; if he be fad, he wants Mony.

Bene. I have the Tooth-ach.

Pedro. Draw it.

Bene. Hang it.

Cland. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards. Pedro. What? figh for the Tooth-ach.

Leon. Which is but a Humour or a Worm.

Bene. Well, every one cannot mafter a Grief, but he that has it.

Claud. Yet fay I, he is in Love.

Pedro. There is no Appearance of Fancy in him, unless it be a Fancy that he hath to ftrange Difguifes, as to be a Dutch Man to Day, a French Man to Morrow; unless he have a Fancy to this Foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no Fool for Fancy, as you would have it to appear

he is.

Claud. If he be not in Love with fome Woman, there is no believing old Signs; he brushes his Hat a Mornings: What should that bode?

Pedro. Hath any Man feen him at the Barbers?

Cland.

Claud. No, but the Barber's Man hath been seen with him, and the old ornament of his Cheek hath already stuft =Tennis Balls.

Leon. Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the lofs of a Beard.

Pedro. Nay he rubs himself with Civet, can you smell him out by that?

Cland. That's as much as to fay, the sweet Youth's in Love.

Pedro. The greatest Note of it is his Melancholy.

Claud. And when was he wont to wash his Face? Pedro. Yea, or to paint himfelf? for the which I hear what they fay of him.

Claud. Nay, but his jefting Spirit, which is now crept into a Lute-ftring, and now govern'd by Stops

Pedro. Indeed that tells a heavy Tale for him; conclude he is in love.

Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him.

Pedro. That would I know too, I warrant one that knows him not.

Claud. Yes, and his ill Conditions, and in defpight of all dies for him.

Pedro. She fhall be bury'd with her Face upwards.

Bene. Yet is this no Charm for the Tooth-ake. Old Sig nior walk afide with me, I have ftudy'd eight or nine wife words to speak to you, which these Hobby-horses must not hear.

Pedro. For my Life to break with him about Beatrice. Claud. 'Tis even fo, Hero and Margaret have by this play'd their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Bears will not bite one another when they meet.

Enter Don John.

John. My Lord and Brother, God fave you.

Pedro. Good Den, Brother.

John. If your leifure ferv'd, I would speak with you.
Pedro. In private?

John. If it please you; yet Count Claudio may hear, for what I would fpeak of concerns him.

Pedro. What's the matter?

John. Means your Lordship to be marry'd to Morrow?

[To Claudio.

Pedro.

it.

Pedro. You know he does.

John. I know not that, when he knows what I know. Cland. If there be any Impediment, I pray you discover

John. You may think I love you not, let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifeft; for my Brother, I think, he holds you well, and in dearness of Heart hath holp to effect your enfuing Marriage; furely Sute ill spent, and Labour ill beftowed.

Pedro. Why, what's the Matter?

John. I came hither to tell you, and Circumftances fhortned (for the hath been too long a talking of) the Lady is difloyal.

Claud. Who? Hero?

John. Even the, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every Man's Hero.

Cland. Difloyal?

John. The Word is too good to paint out her wickednefs; I could fay fhe were worfe; think you of a worse Title, and I will fit her to it: Wonder not 'till further Warrant; go but with me to Night, you fhall fee her Chamber Window enter'd, even the Night before her WeddingDay; if you love her, then to Morrow wed her; but it would better fit your Honour to change your Mind. Claud. May this be fo?

Pedro. I will not think it.

John. If you dare not truft that you fee, confefs not that you know; if you will follow me, I will fhew you enough; and when you have feen more, and heard more, proceed accordingly.

Claud. If I fee any thing to Night why I fhould not marry her to Morrow, in the Congregation where I should wed, there will I fhame her.

Pedro. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to difgrace her.

John. I will difparage her no farther, 'till you are my Witneffes; bear it coldly but 'till Night, and let the Issue fhew it felf.

Pedro. O Day untowardly turned!

Cland. O Mifchief strangely thwarting!
John. O Plague right well prevented!

So will you fay when you have feen the Sequel, [Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Dogbery and Verges, with the Watch. Dogb. Are you good Men and true?

Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should fuffer Salvation, Body and Soul.

Dogb. Nay, that were 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 Dogbery. Dogb. First, who think you the moft difartlefs Man to be Conftable?

Watch 1. Hugh Otecake, Sir, or George Seacole; for they can write and read.

Dogb. Come hither Neighbour Seacole, God hath blest you with a good Name; to be a well-favour'd Man, is the Gift of Fortune, but to write and read comes by Nature. Watch 2. Both which, Mafter Constable

Dogb. You have: I knew it would be your Anfwer; 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 fuch Vanity: You are thought here to be the most fenfelefs and fit Man for the Conftable of the Watch, therefore bear you the Lanthorn; this is your Charge: You fhall comprehend all vagrom Men, you are to bid any Man stand in the Prince's Name.

Watch 2. 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.

Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none but the Prince's Subjects: You fhall alfo make no Noise in the Streets; For, for the Watch to babble and talk, is moft tollerable, and not to be endur'd.

Watch. 2. We will rather fleep than talk; we know what belongs to a Watch.

(

Dogb. Why you fpeak like an ancient and moft quiet Watchman, for I cannot fee how fleeping should offend; only have a care that your Bills be not ftolen: Well, you are to call at all the Alehouses, and bid them that are drunk get them to Bed.

Leon. This fays fhe, now when the is beginning to write to him, fhe'll be up twenty times a Night, and there will fhe fit in her Smock, 'till the 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. O when the had writ it, and reading it over, the found Benedick and Beatrice between the Sheet.

Claud. That.

Leon. O fhe tore the Letter into a thousand Halfpence, rail'd at her felf, that she should be fo immodeft, to write to one that she knew would flout her: I measure him, says fhe, by my own Spirit, 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, curfes; O fweet Benedick, God give me patience.

Leon. She doth indeed, my Daughter fays fo, and the Extafie hath fo much overborn her, that my Daughter is fometime afraid fhe will do a defperate Out-rage to her felf, it is very true.

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

Cland. To what end? he would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor Lady worse.

Pedro. And he fhould, it were an Alms to hang him; she's an excellent fweet Lady, and out of all Sufpicion the is virtuous.

Claud. And fhe is exceeding wife.

Pedro. 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 forry for her, as I have just Cause, be ing her Uncle, and her Guardian.

Pedro. I would fhe had beftow'd this Dotage upon me; I would have daft all other Refpects, 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 the will die, for the fays the will die, if he love her not, and fhe will die e'er the

make