Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you fay.

Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparifon or two on me, which peradventure not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, ftrikes him into melancholy, and then there's a partridge wing fav'd, for the fool will eat no fupper that night. We muft follow the leaders.

Bene. In every good thing.

Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Exeunt.

John. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it: the ladies follow her, and but one vifor remains.

Bora. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bearing.
John. Are not you Signior Benedick?

Claud. You know me well, I am he.

John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love, he is enamour'd on Hero, I pray you, diffuade him from her, fhe is no equal for his birth: you may do the part of an honeft man in it.

Claud. How know you he loves her?

John. I heard him fwear his affection.

Bora. So did I too, and he fwore he would marry her to-night.

John. Come, let us to the banquet.

[Exeunt John and Bora. Claud. Thus anfwer I in name of Benedick, But hear this ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain fo, the Prince wooes for himself. Friendship is conftant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love;

Therefore, all hearts in love, use your own tongues! Let every eye negotiate for it felf,

7 their

And

T

And trust no agent; beauty is a witch,
Against whofe charms faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,

Which I mistrufted not. Farewel then, Hero!
Enter Benedick.

Bene. Count Claudio ?

Claud. Yea, the fame.

Bene. Come, will you go with me?
Claud. Whither?

Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own bufinefs, Count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an Ufurer's chain? or under your arm, like a Lieutenant's fcarf? you must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.

Claud. I wish him joy of her.

Bene. Why, that's fpoken like an honeft drover; fo they fell bullocks: but did you think the Prince would have served you thus?

Claud. I pray you, leave me.

Bene. Ho! now you ftrike 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.

[Exit.

Bene. Alas poor hurt fowle! now will he creep into fedges. But that my lady Beatrice fhould 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 my felf wrong: I am not fo reputed. It is the bafe (though bitter) difpofition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her perfon, and fo gives me out; well, I'll be reveng❜d as I may.

SCENE IV.

Enter Don Pedro.

Pedro. Now, Signior, where's the Count? did you fee him?

Bene. Troth, my Lord, I have play'd the part of lady

Fame.

Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren, I told him (and I think, told him true) that your Grace had got the will of this young lady, and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him a rod, as being worthy to be whipt.

Pedro. To be whipt! what's his fault?

Bene. The flat tranfgreffion of a school-boy, who being over-joy'd with finding a bird's neft, fhews it his companion, and he steals it.

Pedro. Wilt thou make a truft, a tranfgreffion? the tranfgreffion is in the stealer.

Bene, Yet it had not been amifs the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have beftowed on you, who (as I take it) have ftol'n his bird's neft.

Pedro. I will but teach them to fing, and reftore them to the owner.

Bene. If their finging anfwer your faying, by my faith, you fay honestly.

Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman that danc'd with her, told her fhe is much wrong'd by you.

Bene. O, the mifus'd me paft the indurance of a block; an oak but with one green leaf on it, would have answer'd her; my very vifor began to affume life, and fcold with her; fhe told me, not thinking I had been my felf, that I -was the Prince's jefter, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling jeft upon jeft, with fuch impetuous conveyance upon me, that I ftood like a man at a mark, with a whole army fhooting at me; the fpeaks Ponyards, and every word ftabs; if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, fhe would infect to the North-Star; I would not marry her, though The were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'd; fhe would have made Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the VOL. I. Hh

8 impaffable

fire

fire too. Come, talk not of her, you fhall find her the infernal Atè in good apparel. I would to God fome fcholar would conjure her; for certainly while fhe is here a man may live as quiet in hell as in a fanctuary, and people fin upon purpofe, because they would go thither; fo indeed all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her.

Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero.

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 devife to fend me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furtheft inch of Afia ; bring you the length of Prefter John's foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any embaffage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy; you have no employment for me?

Pedro. None, but to defire your good company.

Bene. O God, Sir, here's a dish I love not. I cannot indure this Lady's tongue.

[Exit. Pedro. Come, Lady, come, you have loft the heart of Signior Benedick.

Beat. Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and gave him ufe for it, a double heart for a fingle one; marry, once before he won it of me with falfe dice, therefore your Grace may well fay I have loft it.

Pedro. You have put him down, Lady, you have put him down.

Beat. So I would not he fhould do me, my Lord, left I fhould prove the mother of fools: I have brought Count Claudio, whom you fent me to feek.

Pedro. Why, how now, Count, wherefore are you fad? Claud. Not fad, my Lord.

Pedro. How then? fick?

Claud. Neither, my Lord.

Beat.

Beat. The Count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well; but civil Count, civil as an orange, and fomething of a jealous complexion.

Pedro. I' faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and his 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 fay Amen to it!

Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue.

Claud. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy; I were but little happy, if I could fay how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours; I give away my felf for you, and doat upon the exchange.

Beat. Speak, coufin, or (if you cannot) ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

Pedro. In faith, Lady, you have a merry heart.

Beat. Yea, my Lord, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy fide of care; my coufin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.

9'Leon. And fo fhe doth, cousin.

Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd, I may fit in a corner, and cry heigh ho for a husband.

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. 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.

Pedro. Your filence moft offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for out of question you were born in a merry hour.

Hh 2

Beat.

9 Claud.