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Sene, Nature, you know him well enough.
Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them
Scene 1. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 15
Balth. No more words; the clerk is answered.
Urs. I know you well enough ; you are signior An-
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so ?
Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my
Bene. What's he?
never make you laugh ?
he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool;
sure he is in the fleet: I would he
Beat. Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two
at, strikes him into melancholy: and then
a patridge wing sayed, for the fool will eat no epper that night. (Music within.) We must follow
Bene. In every good thing. at the next furning.
(Breunt all but Don John, Borachio, and
D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamour'd on Hero; I pray you, dis. sunde him from her, she is un equal for his birth : you may do the part of an honest man in it.
Claud. How know you he loves her!
Born. So aid I too; and he swore he would marry
[E.reunt Don John and Borachio.
Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own busi; ness, count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? About your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under
our arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one wax; for the prince hath got your llero.
Bene. why, that's s oken like an honest drover ; 50 they sell bullocks.
But did you think the prince would bave served you thus
? Claud. I pray sou, leave me.
Bene, Hor now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you.
Bene. Alas! poor hurt fowl! Now will he creep into sedges.--- But, that my lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The prince's fool! -Ha, it may be, I go under that title, because I am merry. Yea; but so; I am apt to do myself wrong: I am not so reputed: it is the base, the bitter disposition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her person, and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.
Re-enter DON PEDRO, HERO, and LEONATO.
D. Pedro. Now, signior, where's the count? Did you sre him?
Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of lady l'ame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren ; I told him, and, I think, I told him true, that and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either
make him him up a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind
to be whipped. Bene. The flat transgression of a school-boy; who, being overjoyed with finding a bird's nest, shews it his companion, and he steals it.
D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression ? The transgression is in the stealer.
Bene. Yet it had not been amiss, the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself; and the rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stolen his bird's
D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore hem to the owner.
Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say
The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the
gentleman that danced with her, told her she is Bene, o, she misused me past the endurance of a
vak, but with one green leaf on it, would have
e answer'd her; and scold with her: she told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester; that I was such impossible conveyance, upon ine, that I stood like She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star.
rpose, because they would aris and people sin upon
all that Adam had left him before he transgressed: she I would not marry her, though the were endowed with would have made Hercules have turned spit ; yes, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her ; you shall And her the infernal Até in
good apparel. I would to God, some scholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a disquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her.
Re enter CLAUDIO and BEATRICE. n. Pedro. Look, here she comes.
Bene. Will your grace command me any service to the world's end ? I will go on the slightest errand now will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the farthest inch of Asia ; bring you the length of Prester John's foot ; fetch you a hair of the great Chain's beard : do ihree words conference with this harpy: You have no employment for me!
D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.
Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish'I love not; I cannot endure my lady Tongue.
D. Pedro. Come, lady, come ; you hove lost the heart of signior Benedick.
Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while : affd gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before, he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say, I have lost it.
D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.
Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools.
I have brought count Claudio, whon you sent me to seek.
D. Pedro. Why, bow now, count? wherefore are you sad
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.
D. Pedro. I'raith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fuir Hero is won; I have broke slih her father, and als
Leon. O, by no meani; she mocks all her wooers oet
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, tis your cue.
Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy : I were you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you,
Beate speak, cous things, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss,
D. Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
I thank it, poor fool, it keeps
side of ear, that he is in
cousin. to the world doerd, for alliance !-- Thus goes every one a corner, and cry, heigh-ho! for a husband.
D. 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. D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady?
my lord, unless I might have another for working days : your grace is too costly to wear every day.- But, I beseech your grace, pardon me; I was born
D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you ; for, out of question, you were porn in
Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was
star danced, and under that was I boruCousine, God give you joy!
Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you
Beat. I cry you mercy, unele.-By your grace's par. don.
D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lads.
Leon. There s little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad, but when she sleeps; say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.
D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.