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would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, 4 man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary, and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturba; lion follow her.


Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero. Pedro, Look, here she comes.

Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's end ? I will go on the Nightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Presler Jobn's foot: fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard : do you any ambassage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy ; you have no employment for me?

Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.

Bene. O God, Sir, here's a dish I love not. I cannot indure this Lady Tongue.

Pedro Come, Lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick.

Beat. Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and I gave him use for it, a double heart for a single one; marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your Grace may well say, I have lost it. : Pedro. You have put him down, Lady, you have put him down.

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, left I should prove the mother of fools; I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to feek.

Pedro. Why, low now, Count, wherefore are you fad?

Claud. Not fad, my Lord.
Pedro. How then fick?'


Claud. Neither, my Lord.

Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil, Count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion.

Pedro. l'faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be sworn, if he be fo, his conceit is false. 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 say, Amen, to it.

Beat. Speak, Count, ʼtis your cue.

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

Beat. Speak, Cousin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth with a kiss, 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 side of care ; my cousin tells him in his ear, that he is in her heart.

Claud. And so she doth, cousin.
Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! 'thus goes every

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goes every one to the a woman, who accepts a worse world but I, and I am sunburnt.] match than those which she had What is it, 10 go to the world i refused, that she has passed perhaps, to enter by marriage through the wood, and at last into a settled state : but why is taken a crooked stick. But conthe unmarried Lady sunburnt? jectural criticism has always I believe we should read, thus something to abate its confidence. goes every one to the wood but l, Shakespeare, in All's well that and I am Innburnt. Thus does ends well, uses the phrase, to go every one but I find a shelter, 10 the world, for marriage. So and I am left exposed to wind that my emendation depends onand fun. The nearest way to the ly on the opposition of wood 10 wood, is a phrase for the readiest jun-burut. means to any end. It is said of

one to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd; I may
fit in a corner, and cry beigh bo! for a husbaud.

Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.
Beat. I would rather have one of


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, unlefs I might have another sor working days; your Grace is too costly to wear every day : but, I beseech your Grace, pardon me, I was bound to speak all mirth and no matter.

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

Beat. No, sure, my Lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a star danc'd, and under that I was born.

Cousins, God give you joy.
Leon. Niece, will you look to those 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; she is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then ; for I have heard my daughter fay, 2 she hath often dreanı’d of an unhappiness, and wak'd herself with laughing.

Pidro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

? he hath ofien dream'd of un- nified a wild, wanton, unlucky happines:,] So all the editions; trick. Thus Beaumont and Fletche but Mr. 'I heobilid's alters it to, er, in their comedy of the Maid on happiness, having no concep- of the Mill. tion thai unhappiness meant any

-Mydreams are like ray thoughts, thing but misfortune, and that honest and innocent he thinks she could not laugh at. Yours are unhappy: He had litser heard tha: it fig.



· Leon. O, by no means, the 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 its rites.

Leon. Not’till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

Pedró. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time mall not go dully by us. I will in the Interim undertake one of Hercules's labours, which is, ' to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other ; I would fain have it a march, and I doubt not to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction.

Leon. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights watchings.

Claud. And I, my Lord.
Pedro. And you too, gentle Herc?

Hera. I will do any modest 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 praise him, he is of a noble strain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honesty.

? To bring Benedick and Bea. bring them, not to any more trice into a mountain of affection mostings of contention, but to a the one with the other. ) A moun- mooting or conversation of love. tain of affection with one another The reading is confirmed by the is a trange expression, yet I proposition with ; a mountain know not well how to change it. with each other, or affeilion with Perhaps it was originally written, cach other, cannot be used, but fj bring. Benedick and Beatrice a mooting with each other is prointo a mooting of atidin; to per and regular.

I will teach you how to humour your Cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your two helps, will fo practise on Benedick, that in despight of his quick wit, and his queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer, his glory shall be ours for we are the only Love-Gods: go in with me, and I will tell you


my drift.


Changes to another Apartment in Leonato's House.

John. I Daughter of Leonato.

Enter Don John and Borachio.
T is so, the Count Claudio shall marry the

of Leonato.
Bora. Yea, my lord, but I can cross it.

John. Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me; I am sick in displeasure to him ; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage ?

Bora. Not honestly, my Lord, but so covertly chat no dishonesty shall appear in me.

John. Shew me briefly how.

Bora. I think, I told your lordship a year since, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waitinggentlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant 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 poison of That lies in you to temper; go you to the Prince your Brother, spare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his honour in marrying the


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