D. Pedro. Good den, brother. D. John. I will disparage her no farther, till D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak you are my witnesses: bear it coldly but till mid 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 holds you well; and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your ensuing marriage: surely, suit ill spent, and labor ill bestowed. D. Pedro. Why, what's the matter? D. John. I came hither to tell you: and, circumstances shortened (for she hath been too long a talking of), the lady is disloyal. Claud. Who? Hero? night, and let the issue shew itself. D. Pedro. O day untowardly turned ! Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting! D. John. O plague right well prevented! So will you say when you have seen the sequel. [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, neighbor Dogberry. Dogb. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable? 1st Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read. Dogb. Come hither, neighbor Seacoal: God hath D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, blessed you with a good name: to be a well-favored 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 honor to change your mind. Claud. May this be so? D. Pedro. I will not think of it. man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. 2nd Watch. Both which, master constable, Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favor, 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. 2nd 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. 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. that knows the statutes, he may stay him; marry, not without the Prince be willing: for, indeed, the watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offense 2nd Watch. We will rather sleep than talk; we to stay a man against his will. 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 the alehouses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. 2nd 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. 2nd 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. 2nd 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 shew what he is, and steal out of your company. Verg. You have always been 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 the nurse, and bid her still it. 2nd 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 it bleats. Verg. 'Tis very true. Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, constable, are to present the Prince's own person: if you meet the Prince in the night, you may stay him. Verg. Nay, by 'r lady, that I think he cannot. 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, neighbor. 2nd Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed. Dogb. One word more, honest neighbors: I 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. 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; 't was the vane on the house. Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddy 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 cob-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 thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion? Bora. Not so, neither: but know that I have to-night wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero; she leans me out at her mistress' chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good-night.—I tell this tale vilely :I should 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, but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any slander that Don John 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 home again without a husband. 1st Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock. Con. Masters, masters! 2nd Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you. Con. Masters! 1st Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us obey you to go with us. Bora. We are likely to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of these men's bills. Con. A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we 'll obey you. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. -A Room in LEONATO's House. Hero. And bid her come hither. [Exit URSULA. Marg. Troth, I think your other rabato were better. Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. Marg. By my troth, 't is 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. I like a new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner: and your gown 's a most rare fashion, i' faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan's gown, that they praise so. Hero. O, that exceeds, they say. Marg. By my troth, it's but a night-gown in respect of yours: cloth of gold, and cuts, and laced with silver; set with pearls, down-sleeves, sidesleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a blueish tinsel: but for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on 't. Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for is exceeding heavy! Marg. 'T will be heavier soon, by the weight of 1st Watch. We charge you in the Prince's a man. name, stand. 2nd Watch. Call up the right master constable. We have here recovered the most daugerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the common-wealth. my heart Hero. Fye upon thee! art not ashamed? Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honorably? Is not marriage honorable in a beggar? Is not your lord honorable without marriage? I think Hero. Good morrow, coz. Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero. 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 I list; nor I list not to think what I can; nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man he swore he would never marry; and yet Hero. Why, how now! do you speak in the sick now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat withtune? 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 o' love," with your heels! then, if your husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall lack no barns. out grudging: and how you may be converted, I Beat. What pace is this, that thy tongue keeps? Re-enter URSULA. Urs. Madam, withdraw; the Prince, the Count, Marg. O, illegitimate construction! I scorn Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants that with my heels. of the town, are come to fetch you to church. Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. [Exeunt. Beat. 'T is almost five o'clock, cousin; 't is time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: hey ho! Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband? Beat. For the letter that begins them all — H. Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's no more sailing by the star. 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 bor? an excellent perfume. Beat. I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell. Marg. A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold. Beat. O, God help me! God help me! how long have you professed apprehension? Marg. Ever since you left it: doth not my wit become me rarely? Dogb. Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you, that decerns you nearly. Leon. Brief, I pray you; for you see 't is 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 Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it the matter; an old man, sir, and his wits are not 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. 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, neighbor Verges. Leon. Neighbors, 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! Dogb. Yea, an 't were a thousand times more than 't is 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 have to say. you 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. Dogb. A good old man, sir; he will be talking; as they say, "When the age is in, the wit is out." God help us! it is a world to see! Well said, i' faith, neighbor Verges. Well, God's a good man: an two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind. An honest soul, i' faith, sir; by my troth he is, as ever broke bread: but God is to be worshiped all men are not alike: alas, good neighbor! Dogb. Gifts that God gives. Leon. I must leave you. 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. Leon. Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well. 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 Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail: 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 Hero. I do. Friar. If any of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, I charge you, on your souls, to utter it. Claud. Know you any, Hero? Friar. Know you any, Count? 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 leave; |
