If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band:
For others say, thou dost deserve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

SCENE II.

[Exit.

A Room in LEONATO's House. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and LEONATO.

D.Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then I go toward Arragon.

Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me.

D.Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage, as to show 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 sole 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 sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks.

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

Leon. So say I; methinks, you are sadder.
Claud. I hope, he be in love.

D.Pedro. Hang him, truant; there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love: if he be sad, he wants money.

Bene. I have the tooth-ach.

D.Pedro. Draw it.

Bene. Hang it !

Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
D.Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach?

Leon. Where is but a humour, or a worm?

Be. Well,every one can master a grief,but he that has it.
Claud. Yet say I, he is in love.

D.Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises ;

as wild as haggards of the rock; she therefore says, that wild as her heart is, she will tame it to the hand.

JOHNSON.

[6] This character of Cupid came from the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney:
"Millions of yeares this old drivell Cupid lives;

"While still more wretch, more wicked he doth prove:
"Till now at length that Jove him office gives,

"(At Juno's suite, who much did Argus love,)

In this our world a hangman for to be

"Of all those fooles that will have all they see.” FARMER.

as to be a Dutch-man to-day; a French-man to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, as, a German from the waist downward, all slops; and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet: Unless he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is.

Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing old signs: He brushes his hat o' mornings; What should that bode?

D.Pedro. Hath any man seen him at the barber's?

Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuffed tennis-balls.

Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.

D.Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet: Can you smell him out by that?

Claud. That's as much as to say, The sweet youth's in love.

D.Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy. Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face?

D.Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear what they say of him.

Claud. Nay, but his jesting spirit; which has now crept into a lute string and now governed by stops. D.Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: Conclude, conclude, he is in love.

Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him.

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

Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despight of all, dies for him.

[7] So, in Greene's Farewell to Folly, 1617: "We are almost as fantastic as the English gentleman that is painted with a pair of sheers in his hand, as not being resolved after what fashion to have his coat cut." Again, in The Seven deadly Sinnes of London, by Tho. Decker, 1606: For an Englishman's sute is like a traitor's bodie that hath been hanged, drawne, and quartered, and is set up in severall places: his codpiece is in Denmarke; the collor of his dublet and the belly, in France: the wing and narrow sleeve, in Italy: the short waste hangs ouer a Dutch botcher's stall in Utrich his huge sloppes speaks Spanish: Polonia gives him the bootes, &c.-and thus we mock euerie nation, for keeping one fashion, yet steale patches from euerie one of them, to peece out our pride; and are now laughing-stocks to them, because their cut So scurvily becomes us." STEEVENS.

Slops are large loose breeches, or trowsers, worn only by sailors at present. [8] Here is a play upon the word fancy, which Shakspeare uses for love as well as for humour, caprice, or affectation. JOHNSON.

[9] Love-songs in our author's time were generally sung to the musick of the lute. So, in King Henry IV. P. I:

as melancholy as an old lion, or a lover's lute."

MALONE.

D.Pedro. She shall be buried with her face upwards. Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach.-Old signior, walk aside with me; I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you, which these hobbyhorses must not hear. [Exe. BENE. and LEON. D.Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

Claud. 'Tis even so: Hero and Margaret have by this played their parts with Beatrice; and then the two bears will not bite one another, when they meet.

Enter Don JOHN.

D. John. My lord and brother, God save you.
D.Pedro. Good den, brother.

D.John. If your leisure served, I would speak 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 to-morrow? [TO CLAUDI0.

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 will now 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 labour 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?

D.John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, 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 to-night, 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 honour to change your mind

Claud. May this be so ?

D.Pedro. I will not think it.

D.John. If you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you know if you will follow me, I will show you enough; and when you have seen more, and heard more, proceed accordingly.

Claud. If I see any thing to-night why I should not marry her to-morrow in the congregation, where I should wed, there will I shame her.

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

D.John. I will disparage her no farther, till you are my witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the issue show 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. [Exe.

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, neighbour Dogberry.

Dogb. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable.

1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read.

Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal: God hath blessed you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.

2 Watch. Both which, master constable,

Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your answer. 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 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. 2 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.

2 Watch. We will rather sleep than talk; we 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 ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.

2 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.

2 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.

2 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 show himself 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 to the nurse, and bid her still it.

[1] A bill is still carried by the watchmen at Lichfield. It was the old weapon of English infantry, which, says Temple, gave the most ghastly and deplorable wounds. It may be called securis falcata. JOHNSON.