SCENE VII.

Changes to another Apartment in Leonato's House.

Enter Don John and Borachio.

Jobn. TT
Tis so, the Count Claudio shall marry the
Daughter of Leonato.

Bora. Yea, my Lord, but I can cross it.

John. Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me; I am fick in difpleasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou cross this marriage?

Bora. Not honestly, my Lord, but fo covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. John. Shew me briefly how.

Bora. I think, I told your lordship a year since, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting-gentlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to look out at her Lady's chamberwindow.

John. What life is in That, to be the death of this marriage?

Bora. The poison of That lyes in you to temper; go you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his Honour in marrying the renown'd Claudio, (whose estimation do you mightily hold up) to a contaminated Stale, such a one as Hero. John. What proof shall I make of That? Bora. Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato, look you for any other issue?

John. Only to defpite them, I will endeavour any

thing..

1

Bora.

Bora. Go then find me a meet hour, to draw Don Pedro, and the Count Claudio, alone; tell them, that you know, Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as in a love of your Brother's honour who hath made this match; and his friend's reputation, (who is thus like to be cozen'd with the semblance of a maid,) that you have difcover'd thus; they will hardly believe this without tryal: offer them instances, which shall bear no less likelihood than to see me at her chamber-window; hear me call Margaret, Hero; hear Margaret term me Borachio; and bring them to fee this, the very night before the intended Wedding; for in the mean time I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent; and there shall appear such seeming truths of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousie shall be call'd assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

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

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

SCENE VIII.

Changes to Leonato's Orchard.

Enter Benedick, and a Boy.

Bene. BOY,

Boy. Signior.

[Exeunt.

Bene. In my chamber window lies a book, bring it

hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already, Sir.

[Exit Boy.

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

he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laught at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn, by falling in love! and fuch a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no mufick with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the taber and the pipe; I have known, when he would have walk'd ten mile a-foot, to fee a good armour; and now will he lye ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honeft man and a foldier; and now he is turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantaftical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and fee 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 fhall never make me fuch a fool: one woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wife, 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; 2" wife, or I'll none; vir"tuous, or I'll never cheapen her: fair, or I'll never "look on her;" mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good difcourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the Prince and Monfieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. [Withdraws.

Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this musick?

Claud. Yea, my good lord; how still the evening is, 2 These words added out of the editions of 1623. Mr. Pope. 3 and her hair shall be of what colour it pleafe God.] i. e. She shall not difcolour it; hinting at the fashion of discolouring their hair, by art, when it was not of the colour in esteem.

As

As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
Claud. O very well, my lord; the mufick ended,
+ We'll fit the hid fox with a penny-worth.
Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that Song again.
Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander musick any more than once.

Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency,
To put a strange face on his own perfection;
I pray thee, sing; and let me woo no more.
Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will fing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his fuit
To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes;
Yet will he swear, he loves.

Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come;
Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
Do it in notes.

Balth. Note this before my notes,
There's not a note of mine, that's worth the noting.
Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks,
Note, notes, forsooth, and noting.

Bene. Now, divine air; now is his foul ravish'd! is it not strange, that sheeps guts should hale fouls out of mens bodies? well, a horn for my money, when all's done.

The SONG.

Sigh no more, ladies, figh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in fea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never :
Then figh not so, but let them go,
And be you blith and bonny;
Converting all your founds of woe
Into bey nony, nony.

Sing no more ditties, fing no mo
Of dumps so dull and beavy;
The frauds of men were ever so,
Since fummer was first leafy :
Then figh not fo, &c.

Pedro. By my troth, a good Song.
Balth. And an ill finger, my lord.

Pedro. Ha, no; no, faith; thou fing'st well enough for a shift.

Bene. " If he had been a dog, that should have "howl'd 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.

Pedro. Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthazar ? I pray thee, get us some excellent musick; for tomorrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamber-window.

Balth. The best I can, my lord. (Exit Balthazar. Pedro. Do fo: farewel. Come hither, Leonato; what was it you told me of to-day, that your Neice Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?

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

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she should so doat on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seem'd ever to abhor. Bene. Is't poffible, fits the wind in that corner?

[Afide. Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that the loves him with an inraged affection, it is paft the definite of thought.

Pedro.

5 but that she loves him with an inraged affection, it is past the INFINITE of thought.] It is impossible to make Sense and Grammar of this speech. And the reason is, that the two VOL. II. begin

D