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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 fanctuary, and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her.

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Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero.
Pedro. Look, here she comes.

Bene. Will your Grace command me any fervice to the world's end? I will go on the nightest 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 Aña; bring you the length of Prefter John's foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard ; do you any ambassage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy ; you have no employment for me?

Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.

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

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 a single one ; marry, once before he won it of me with falle dice, therefore your Grace may well say, I have lost it.

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

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, 9 the infernal Até in good apparel.] This is a pleasant allufon to the custom of ancient poets and painters, who represent the furies in raggs.


left I should prove the mother of fools: I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.

Pedro. Why, how now, Count, wherefore are

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you fad ?

Claud. Not fad, my Lord.
Pedro. How then fick?
Claud. Neither, my Lord.

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

Pedro. I'faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be sworn, if he be fo, his conceit is false. 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 say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away my self for you, and doat upon the exchange.

Beat. Speak, Cousin, or (if you cannot) ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not 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 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-burn'd; I may fit in a corner, and cry heigh bo! 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 silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.

Beat. No, sure, my Lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a star danc'd, and under that I was born. Cousins, God give you joy.

Leon. Neice, will you look to those things I told

you of?

Beat. I cry you mercy, Uncle: by your Grace's pardon.

[Exit Beatrice, S CE N E VI. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited Lady.

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my Lord; she is never fad but when she neeps, and not ever sad then ; for I have heard my daughter fay, she hath often dream'd of an unhappinefs, and wak'd her self with laughing.

Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a hufband.

Leon. O, by no means, the mocks all her wooers out of suit.

Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

! fhe bath often dream'd of unbappiness,] So all the editions ; but Mr, Theobald's alters it to, an happiness, having no conception that unhappiness meant any thing but misfortune, and that he thinks she could not laugh at. He had never heard that it signified a wild, wanton, unlucky trick. Thus Beaumont and Fletcher in their comedy of the Maid of the Mill.

-My dreams are like my thoughts honest and innocent:
Yours are unhappy.


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Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themselves mad.

Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church?

Claud. To morrow, my Lord; time goes on crutches, till love have all his rites.

León. Not 'till Monday, my dear fon, which is hence a just seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time Shall not go dully by us. I will in the Interim undertake one of Hercules's labours, which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other; I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not to fashion it, if you

three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you

Léon. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost
me ten nights watchings.

Claud. And I, my Lord.
Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

Hero. I will do any modeft office, my Lord, to help my Cousin to a good husband. .

Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest hulband that I know: thus far I can praise him, he is of a noble strain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour your Cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and 1, with your two helps, will fo practise on Benedick, that in despight of his quick wit, and his queasie ftomach, he thall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer, his glory shall be ours, for we are the only Love-Gods; go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. [Exeunt.


S CE N E VII. . Changes to another Apartment in Leonato's House.


Enter Don John and Borachio.
Jobn. IT is 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 sick in displeasure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canst 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 despite them, I will endeavour any thing.


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