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that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks : but that I will have a recheate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me; because I will not do them the Wrong to mistrust any, I will do my self the Right to trust none; and the fine is, (for the which I may go the finer,) I will live a batchelor.
Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
Bene. With anger, with fickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love: prove, that ever I lose more blood with love, than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the Sign of blind Cupid.
Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a
argument. Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and call'd Adam. (3)
Pedro. Well, as time shall try; in time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.
Bene. The favage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's-horns, and set them in my forehead, and let me be vilely painted ;
(3) And he that hits me, let him be clap'd on the Shoulder, and ealld Adam.) But why should he therefore be call’d Adam ? Perhaps, by a Quotation or two We may be able to trace the Poet's Allusion here. In Law-Tricks, or, who would have thought it, (a Comedy written by John Day, and printed in 1608) I find this Speech.
I have heard, Old Adam was an honest Man, and a good Gardiner; lov'd Lettice well, Salads and Cabage reasonable well, yet no Tobacco; Again, Adam Bell, a substantial Outlaw, and a passing good Archer, yet no Tobacconist.
By This it appears, that Adam Bell at that time of day was of Reputation for his skill at the Bow. I find him again mention'd in a Burlesque Poem of Sir William Davenant’s, call'd, The long Vacation in London: and had I the Conve. nience of consuliing Ascham's Toxophilus, I might probably grow still better acquainted with his Hiftory.
and in such great letters as they write, Here is good Horse to hire, let them signifie under my Sign, Here joil may see Benedick the marry'd man.
Claud. If this should ever happen, thou would'st be horn-mad.
Pedro. Nay, if Cupid hath not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly;
Bene. I look for an earthquake too then.
Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the hours ; in the mean time, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's, commend me to him, and tell him I will not fail him at supper ; for, indeed, he hath made great preparation.
Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage, and so I commit you
Claud. To the tuition of God ; From my house, if I had it,
Pedro. The fixth of July, your loving friend, Beo nedick.
Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not; the body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly bafted on neither : ere you fout old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I
[Exit. Claud. My Liege, your Highness now may do me
good. Pedro. My love is thine to teach, 'teach it but how, And thou shalt see 'how apt it is to tearn." Any hard lesson that may do three good.
Claud. Hath Leonato any son, my lord ?
Pedro. No child but Hero, she's his only her:
Claud. O my lord,
-thoughts Have left their places vacant; in their rooms Come thronging soft ard delicate Defires,
All prompting me how fair young Hero is;
'Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently,
Claud. How sweetly do you minister to love,
flood ? The faireit grant is the necessity; Look, what will serve, is fit ; 'tis once, thou lov'st ; And I will fit thee with the remedy. I know, we shall have revelling to night; I will assume thy part in some disguise, And tell fair Hero I am Claudio ; And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart, And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong encounter of my amorous tale: Then, after, to her father will I break; And the conclusion is, fhe shall be thine ; In practice let us put it presently.
[Exeunt. Rezenter Leonato and Antonio. Leon. How now, Brother, where is my Cousin your fon? hath he provided this musick ?
Ant. He is very busie about it; but, brother, I can tell you news that you yet dream'd not of.
Leon. Are they good?
Ant. As the event stamps them, but they have good cover; they show well outward. The Prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in my orchard, were thus over-heard by a man of mine : The Prince discover'd to Claudio, that he lov'd my neice your daugliter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance; and if he found her accordant, he meant
to take the present time by the top, and instantly break with you of it.
Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this?
Ant. A good sharp fellow ; I will send for him, and question him your self.
Leon. No, no; we will hold it as a dream, 'till it appear it felf: but I will acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better prepared for answer, if peradventure this be true; go you and tell her of it: Coufins, you know what you have to do. [Several cross the Stage here.] O, I cry you mercy, friend, go you with me and I will use your skill ; good Cousin, have a care this busie time.
SCEN E changes to an Apartment in
Enter Don John and Conrade. Conr. 7 Hat the good-jer, my lord, why are you
thus out of measare sad? John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit.
Conr. You should hear reason.
John. And when I have heard it, what Blessing bringeth it?
Conr. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance.
John. I wonder, that thou (being, as thou say'st thou art, born under Saturn) goeft about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief: I cannot bide what I am: I must be fad when I have cause, and smile at no man's jests ; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure ; sleep when I am drowsie, and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour.
Conr. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this, 'till you may do it without controlement ; you have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace, where it is imposible
you should take root, but by the fair weather that you make your
felf; it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest.
Íohn. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdain'd of all, than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any : in this, (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honeft man) it must not be deny do but I am a plain-dealing villain ; I am trusted with a muzzel, and infranchised with a clog, therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage: if i had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking in the mean time let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me.
Conr. Can you make no use of your discontent? John. I will make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? what news, Borachio?
Enter Borachio. Bora. I came yonder from a great supper; the Prince, your brother, is royally entertain'd by Leonato, and í can give you intelligence of an intended marriage.
John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? what is he for a fool, that betroths himself to unquietness ?
Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
John. A proper Squire ! and who, and who? which way
looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leo
John. A very forward March chick! How come you to this?
Bora: Being entertain’d for a perfumer, as I was smoaking a musty room, comes me the Prince and Claudio hand in hand in fad conference: I whipt behind the Arras, and there heard it agreed upon, that the Prince should woo Hero for himself; and having obtain'd her, give her to Count Claudio. John. Come, come, let us thither, this may prove