Bora. Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.

John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

SCENE III.-Enter BENEDICK alone.

Bene. Boy.

Boy. Signior.

[Exit.

Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already, sir.

[Exit.

Bene. I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love. And such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten mile afoot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now is he turn'd orthographer; his words are a very fantastical banquet-just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.

Enter Prince, LEONATO, CLAUDIO, aud JACK WILSON.

Prince. Come, shall we hear this music?

Claud. Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!

Prince. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Claud. Oh, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.

Prince. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. Oh, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice, To slander music any more than once.

Prince. It is the witness still of excellency, To put a strange face on his own perfection. pray thee sing, and let me woo no more.

I

Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing,
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
To her he thinks not worthy, yet he woos;
Yet will he swear he loves.

There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. Prince. Why these are very crochets that he speaks. Note notes, forsooth, and noting!

Bene. Now, divine air, now is his soul ravished! Is it not strange that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money when all's done.

THE SONG.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in sea, and one on shore,

To one thing constant never:

Then sigh not so,

But let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men were ever so,
Since summer first was leavy:
Then sigh not so, &c.

Prince. By my troth, a good song.
Balth. And an ill singer, my lord.

Prince. Ha? no; no, faith; thou singest well enough

for a shift.

Bene. And he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hang'd him; and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it.

Prince. Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. Balth. The best I can, my lord. [Exit BALTHAZAR. Prince. Do so; farewell. Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?

Claud. Oh, ay: stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.

Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought.

Prince. May be she doth but counterfeit!

Claud. Faith, like enough.

Leon. O God! counterfeit? There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it.

Prince. Why, what effects of passion shows she?
Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.

Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you

you heard my daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did, indeed.