account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you: if the Beat. The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him, there is measure in everything, and 80 dance out the answer. For hear me, Hero: Wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scottish jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like Scottish Jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerls-modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till be sink into his grave. Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. Leon. The revellers are entering; brother, make BALTHAZAR, DON JOHN, BORACHIO, MAR. D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say D. Pedro. With me in your company ? Hero, When I like your favour; for God delend, the D. Pedro. My visor is Philemou's roof; within the Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd. love. (Takes her aside.) Balth. Which is one ? Marg. God match me with a good dancer ! Marg. And God keep him out of my sight, when tho dance is done ! - Answer, clerk. Balth. No more words; the clerk is answered. you by the waggling of your head. Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless yon Were the very man : Here's his dry hand up and down ; you are he, you are he. Ant. At a word, I am not. Beat, Will you not tell me who told you so ? Beat. That I was disdainfal,- and that I had my Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him Beat. Do, do : he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy: and then there's a patridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. (Music within.) We must follow Bene. In every good thing. 2 what you say. the leaders. (Dancc.) Amen. [ing. [Exeunt all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio Bora. And that is Claudio : I know him by his bear- D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamour'd on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him from her, she is no equal for his birth: you mas do the part of an honest mau 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. Re-enter BENEDICK. 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 way, for the prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I wish him joy of her. Bene. Why, that's sioken like an honest drorer ; $0 have served you thus ? they sell bullocks. But did you think the prince would Claud. I pray you, leave me. Bene. Ho how you strike like the blind man: 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you 'll beat the post. Claud. If it wili uot 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. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed : she would have made Hercules have turned spit; yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her; you shall find 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 sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. Re cnter CLAUDIO and BEATRICE. D. 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 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 Prester John's foot ; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold 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. [Errit. D. 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 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, how now, count? wherefore are you sad! Claud. Not sad, 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. 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 with her father, and his D.P good will obtained : name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy! Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with ber 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 but little happy, if I could say how much. - Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak, neither. D. 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 one to the world but I, and I am sun-burned; I may sit in 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? Beat. No, 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 to speak all mirth, and no matter. D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beal. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I boro, 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 par. don. [Erit Beatrice. D. 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 herself with laughing. Hay, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness, and waked D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband, Leon. O, by no means; she mocks all her wooers out of suit. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit; yea, and bare cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her; you shall find 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 sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. Re enter CLAUDIO and BEATRICE. 1. Pedro. Look, here she comes. Bene. Will your grace command me ang service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest 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 Prester John's foot; fetch rou a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy: You have no emplorment 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 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 his single one: marrs, 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, whons you sent me to seek. D. Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are fou sad! Claud. Not sad, my lord. Beat. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor trell: but civil, count; civil as an orange, and something of that fealous complexion. D. Pedro. I'faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, bis conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fuir Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and his |