virtuous, 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 discourse, an excellent musician, and her * hair fhall 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, fhall we hear this mufic?

COME, fel, we heard

Claud. Yea, my good lord; how still the evening is,

As hufh'd on purpose to grace harmony!
Pedro. See you were Benedick hath hid himself?
Claud. O very well, my lord; the music 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 fo bad a voice
To flander music any more than once.

Pedro. It is the witnefs ftill of excellency, To put a ftrange face on his own perfection; I pray thee, fing; 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, forfooth, and noting.

*and her hair fhall be of what colour it please God.] i. e. She shall not difcolour it; hinting at the Fashion of difcolouring their Hair, by Art, when it was not of the Colour in esteem. G

VOL. II.

Bene.

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

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

Sing no more ditties, fing no mo
Of dumps fo dull and heavy ;
The frauds of men were ever fo,
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'ft well enough for a fhift.

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, doft thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us fome excellent mufic: for tomorrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamber-window.

[Exit Balthazar.

Balth. The best I can, my lord. 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;ftalk on, ftalk on, the fowl fits. I did never think, that lady would have loved any

man.

Leon.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but moft wonderful, that fhe should so doat on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours feem'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 she loves him with an inraged affection,-it is paft the definite of thought.

Pedro. May be, fhe doth but counterfeit.
Claud. Faith, like enough.

Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was never counterfeit of paffion came fo near the life of paffion, as she discovers it.

Pedro. Why, what effects of paffion fhews she?
Claud. Bait the hook well, this fish will bite.

[Afide. Leon. What effects, my lord? fhe will fit you, you heard my daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did, indeed.

Pedro. How, how, I pray you? you amaze me: I would have thought, her fpirit had been invincible againft all affaults of affection.

Leon. I would have fworn, it had, my lord; efpecially against Benedick.

Bene. [Afide.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow fpeaks it; knavery cannot, fure, hide himself in fuch reverence.

Claud. He hath ta'en th' infection, hold it up.

[Afide. Pedro. Hath fhe made her affection known to Benedick?

Leon. No, and swears she never will; that's her tor

ment.

Claud. 'Tis true, indeed, fo your daughter fays: fhall I, fays fhe, that have fo oft encounter'd him with fcorn, write to him that I love him?

Leon. This fays fhe now, when fhe is beginning to write to him; for fhe'll be up twenty times a night,

G 2

and

and there will fhe fit in her fmock, 'till fhe have writ a fheet of paper; my daughter tells us all. Claud. Now talk of a fheet of you paper, I remember a pretty jeft your daughter told us of.

Leon. O, when she had writ it, and was reading it over, fhe found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet.

Claud. That

*

Leon. O, fhe tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; rail'd at herself, that she should be fo immodeft, to write to one that, she knew, wou'd flout her: I measure him, fays fhe, by my own Spirit, for I fhould flout him if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I fhould.

Claud. Then down upon her knees fhe falls, weeps, fobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; O fweet Benedick ! God give me patience!

Leon. She doth, indeed, my daughter fays fo; and the ecstasy hath fo much overborne her, that my daughter is fometime afraid, fhe will do defperate outrage to herself; it is very true.

Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by fome other, if she will not discover it.

Claud. To what end? he would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.

Pedro. If he fhould, it were an Alms to hang him; fhe's an excellent fweet lady, and (out of all fufpicion) fhe is virtuous.

Claud. And she is exceeding wife.

Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick.

Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in fo tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory; I am forry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian.

Pedro. I would, fhe had bestow'd this dotage on me; I would have dafft all other respects, and made *O, fhe tore the letter into a thousand half-pence ;] i. e. into a thoufand Pieces of the fame Bignels.

her

her half myfelf; I pray you, tell Benedick of it; and hear what he will fay.

Leon. Were it good, think you'?

Claud. Hero thinks, furely fhe will die; for fhe fays, she will die if he love her not, and she will die ere she make her love known; and fhe will die if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accuftom'd croffness.

Pedro. She doth well; if fhe fhould make tender of her love, 'tis very poffible, he'll fcorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. Claud. He is a very proper man.

Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness. Claud. 'Fore God, and, in my mind, very wife. Pedro. He doth, indeed, shew some sparks that are like wit.

Leon. And I take him to be valiant.

Pedro. As Hector, I affure you; and in the managing of quarrels you may fay he is wife; for either he avoids with great difcretion, or undertakes them with a chriftian-like fear.

Leon. If he do fear God, he muft neceffarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling,

Pedro. And fo will he do, for the man doth fear God, howfoever it seems not in him, by fome large jefts he will make. Well, I am forry for your Neice: fhall we go feek Benedick, and tell him of her love?

Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it with good counsel.

Leon. Nay, that's impoffible, she may wear her heart out first.

Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modeftly examine himfelf, to see how much he is unworthy to have fo good a lady.

Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.

Claud