D. Pe. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him. Conclude, conclude, he is in love.

Clau. Nay, but I know who loves him.

D. Pe. That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.

Clau. Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of all, dies for him.

D. Pe. She shall be buried with her face upwards.

Ben. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ache.— Old signior, walk aside with me: I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you, which these hobby-horses must not hear.

[Exeunt Ben. and Leo. D. Pe. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

Clau. '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. Pe. Good den,1 brother.

D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak with you.

D. Pe. In private ?

D. John. If it please you; yet count Claudio

Good even.

may hear; him.

for what I would speak of, concerns

D. Pe. What's the matter?

D. John. Means your lordship to be married tomorrow? [to Claudio.

D. Pe. You know, he does.

D. John. I know not that, when he knows what I know.

Clau. 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 now will 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 labor ill bestowed!

D. Per 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.

Clau. Who? Hero?

D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.

Clau. 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 farther warrant: go but with me tonight, 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 honor to change your mind.

Clau. May this be so ?

D. Pe. 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.

Clau. 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. Pe. 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. Pe. O day untowardly turned !
Clau. O mischief strangely thwarting!
D. John. O plague right well prevented!

So will you say, when you have seen the sequel.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

A street.

Enter DOGBERry and verges, with the watch.

Dog. Are you good men and true?

Ver. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation, body and soul.

Dog. Nay, that were a punishment too good for

them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch.

Ver. Well, give them their charge, neighbor Dogberry.

Dog. 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.

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

2 Watch. Both which, master constable,———

Dog. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favor, 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?

Dog. 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.

Ver. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects.

Dog. 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.

Dog. Why, you speak like an antient and most quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend: only, have a care that your bills 1 be not stolen.--Well, you are to call at all the alehouses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.

2 Watch. How, if they will not ?

Dog. 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.

Dog. 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?

Dog. 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.

'Weapons of the watchmen.