Bene. What's he?

Beat. I am fure, you know him well enough.
Bene. Not I, believe me.

Beat. Did he never make you laugh?

Bene. I pray you, what is he?

Beat. Why, he is the Prince's jefter; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising impaffible flanders: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they laught at him, and beat him; I am fure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me.

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

Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparifon or two on me; which, peradventure, not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, strikes 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. [Mufic within.

Bene. In every good thing. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning.

SCENE

III.

Manent John, Borachio, and Claudio.

[Exeunt.

John. hath withdrawn her father to break with

URE, my brother is amorous on Hero, and

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 you not 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, difsuade him from her, fhe is no equal for his birth; you may do the part of an honest man in it.

Claud.

Claud. How know ye, he loves her?

John. I heard him fwear his affection.

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

John. Come, let us to the banquet.

[Exeunt John and Bor. Claud. Thus answer 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 fue your own tongues! Let every eye negotiate for itself,

And trull no agent; beauty is a witch,

Against whose 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 business, 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 spoken like an honeft drover; fo they fell bullocks: but did you think, the Prince would have ferved you thus?

Claud. I pray you, leave me.

* Faith melteth into Blood.] i. e. These intemperate Defires make Men treacherous; but the Expreffion alludes to the old Opinion of Superftition concerning Witches; that they turned wholesome Liquors into Blood by their Charms.

Bene.

Bene. Ho! now you ftrike like the blind man; 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the Poft.

Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you.

[Exit.

Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowl! 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 myself wrong: I am not fo reputed. It is the bafe (tho' bitter) difpofition of Beatrice, that puts the World into her person, and fo gives me out; well, I'll be reveng'd as I may.

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

Bene. Troth, my lord, I have play'd the part of lady 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 offer'd him my company to a willowtree, either to make him a garland, as being forfaken, or to bind him up 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 overjoy'd with finding a bird's neft, fhews it his companion, and he fteals it.

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

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 beftow'd on you, who (as I take it) have ftol'n his bird's neft.

Pedro.

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

Bene. If their finging answer your faying, by my faith, you say honestly.

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

Bene. O, fhe misus'd me past 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 myself, that I was the Prince's jefter, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling jeft upon jeft, with fuch impaffable conveyance upon me, that I flood 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 fhe were endowed with a1 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 fire 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 fin upon purpose, because they would go thither; fo, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her.

Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero.

Pedro. LOOK, here fhe comes.

Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the flightest

errand

errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to fend me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the fartheft 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 can. not indure this Lady Tongue.

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

Beat. Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and I 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 should do me, my Lord, left I should 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. The Count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well; but civil, Count, civil as an orange, and fomething of that 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.