Leonato. Neece, will you looke to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

Prince. By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with laughing

Pedro. Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband

Leonato. O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers out of suite

Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedick

Leonato. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke married, they would talke themselues madde

Prince. Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to Church? Clau. To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches, till Loue haue all his rites

Leonato. Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue all things answer minde

Prince. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing, but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th' one with th' other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall giue you direction

Leonato. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee ten nights watchings

Claud. And I my Lord

Prin. And you to gentle Hero? Hero. I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe my cosin to a good husband

Prin. And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Archer, his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely louegods, goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift. Enter.

Enter Iohn and Borachio.

Ioh. It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daughter of Leonato

Bora. Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it

Iohn. Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage? Bor. Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no dishonesty shall appeare in me

Iohn. Shew me breefely how

Bor. I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero

Iohn. I remember

Bor. I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window

Iohn. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage? Bor. The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero

Iohn. What proofe shall I make of that? Bor. Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any other issue? Iohn. Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any thing

Bor. Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers honor who hath made this match) and his friends reputation, who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarcely beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance, and all the preparation ouerthrowne

Iohn. Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducates

Bor. Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me

Iohn. I will presentlie goe learne their day of marriage. Enter.

Enter Benedicke alone.

Bene. Boy

Boy. Signior

Bene. In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it hither to me in the orchard

Boy. I am heere already sir. Enter.

Bene. I know that, but I would haue thee hence, and heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio. I haue known when there was no musicke with him but the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dublet: he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like an honest man & a souldier) and now is he turn'd orthography, his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertuous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile neuer cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde, or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal be of what colour it please God, hah! the Prince and Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor. Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Iacke Wilson.

Prin. Come, shall we heare this musicke? Claud. Yea my good Lord: how still the euening is. As husht on purpose to grace harmonie

Prin. See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe? Clau. O very well my Lord: the musicke ended, Wee'll fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth

Prince. Come Balthasar, wee'll heare that song again

Balth. O good my Lord, taxe not so bad a voyce, To slander musicke any more then once

Prin. It is the witnesse still of excellency, To slander Musicke any more then once

Prince. It is the witnesse still of excellencie, To put a strange face on his owne perfection, I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more

Balth. Because you talke of wooing, I will sing, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit, To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he sweare he loues

Prince. Nay pray thee come, Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Doe it in notes

Balth. Note this before my notes, Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting

Prince. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks, Note notes forsooth, and nothing

Bene. Now diuine aire, now is his soule rauisht, is it not strange that sheepes guts should hale soules out of mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's done.

The Song.

Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceiuers euer, One foote in Sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant neuer, Then sigh not so, but let them goe, And be you blithe and bonnie, Conuerting all your sounds of woe, Into hey nony nony. Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heauy, The fraud of men were euer so, Since summer first was leauy, Then sigh not so, &c

Prince. By my troth a good song

Balth. And an ill singer, my Lord

Prince. Ha, no, no faith, thou singst well enough for a shift

Ben. And he had been a dog that should haue howld thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his bad voyce bode no mischiefe, I had as liefe haue heard the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come after it

Prince. Yea marry, dost thou heare Balthasar? I pray thee get vs some excellent musick: for to morrow night we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window

Balth. The best I can, my Lord.

Exit Balthasar.

Prince. Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice was in loue with signior Benedicke? Cla. O I, stalke on, stalke on, the foule sits. I did neuer thinke that Lady would haue loued any man

Leon. No, nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she should so dote on Signior Benedicke, whom shee hath in all outward behauiours seemed euer to abhorre

Bene. Is't possible? sits the winde in that corner? Leo. By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to thinke of it, but that she loues him with an inraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought

Prince. May be she doth but counterfeit

Claud. Faith like enough

Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counterfeit of passion, came so neere the life of passion as she discouers it

Prince. Why what effects of passion shewes she? Claud. Baite the hooke well, this fish will bite

Leon. What effects my Lord? shee will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how

Clau. She did indeed

Prince. How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would haue thought her spirit had beene inuincible against all assaults of affection

Leo. I would haue sworne it had, my Lord, especially against Benedicke

Bene. I should thinke this a gull, but that the whitebearded fellow speakes it: knauery cannot sure hide himselfe in such reuerence

Claud. He hath tane th' infection, hold it vp

Prince. Hath shee made her affection known to Benedicke: Leonato. No, and sweares she neuer will, that's her torment

Claud. 'Tis true indeed, so your daughter saies: shall I, saies she, that haue so oft encountred him with scorne, write to him that I loue him? Leo. This saies shee now when shee is beginning to write to him, for shee'll be vp twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smocke, till she haue writ a sheet of paper: my daughter tells vs all

Clau. Now you talke of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty iest your daughter told vs of

Leon. O when she had writ it, & was reading it ouer, she found Benedicke and Beatrice betweene the sheete

Clau. That

Leon. O she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, raild at her self, that she should be so immodest to write, to one that shee knew would flout her: I measure him, saies she, by my owne spirit, for I should flout him if hee writ to mee, yea though I loue him, I should

Clau. Then downe vpon her knees she falls, weepes, sobs, beates her heart, teares her hayre, praies, curses, O sweet Benedicke, God giue me patience

Leon. She doth indeed, my daughter saies so, and the extasie hath so much ouerborne her, that my daughter is somtime afeard she will doe a desperate out-rage to her selfe, it is very true

Prince. It were good that Benedicke knew of it by some other, if she will not discouer it

Clau. To what end? he would but make a sport of it, and torment the poore Lady worse

Prin. And he should, it were an almes to hang him, shee's an excellent sweet Lady, and (out of all suspition,) she is vertuous

Claudio. And she is exceeding wise

Prince. In euery thing, but in louing Benedicke

Leon. O my Lord, wisedome and bloud combating in so tender a body, we haue ten proofes to one, that bloud hath the victory, I am sorry for her, as I haue iust cause, being her Vncle, and her Guardian

Prince. I would shee had bestowed this dotage on mee, I would haue daft all other respects, and made her halfe my selfe: I pray you tell Benedicke of it, and heare what he will say

Leon. Were it good thinke you? Clau. Hero thinkes surely she wil die, for she saies she will die, if hee loue her not, and shee will die ere shee make her loue knowne, and she will die if hee wooe her, rather than shee will bate one breath of her accustomed crossenesse

Prince. She doth well, if she should make tender of her loue, 'tis very possible hee'l scorne it, for the man (as you know all) hath a contemptible spirit

Clau. He is a very proper man

Prin. He hath indeed a good outward happines

Clau. 'Fore God, and in my minde very wise

Prin. He doth indeed shew some sparkes that are like wit

Leon. And I take him to be valiant

Prin. As Hector, I assure you, and in the managing of quarrels you may see hee is wise, for either hee auoydes them with great discretion, or vndertakes them with a Christian-like feare

Leon. If hee doe feare God, a must necessarilie keepe peace, if hee breake the peace, hee ought to enter into a quarrell with feare and trembling

Prin. And so will he doe, for the man doth fear God, howsoeuer it seemes not in him, by some large ieasts hee will make: well, I am sorry for your niece, shall we goe see Benedicke, and tell him of her loue

Claud. Neuer tell him, my Lord, let her weare it out with good counsell

Leon. Nay that's impossible, she may weare her heart out first

Prin. Well, we will heare further of it by your daughter, let it coole the while, I loue Benedicke well, and I could wish he would modestly examine himselfe, to see how much he is vnworthy to haue so good a Lady

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

Clau. If he do not doat on her vpon this, I wil neuer trust my expectation

Prin. Let there be the same Net spread for her, and that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry: the sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of anothers dotage, and no such matter, that's the Scene that I would see, which will be meerely a dumbe shew: let vs send her to call him into dinner.

Exeunt.

Bene. This can be no tricke, the conference was sadly borne, they haue the truth of this from Hero, they seeme to pittie the Lady: it seemes her affections haue the full bent: loue me? why it must be requited: I heare how I am censur'd, they say I will beare my selfe proudly, if I perceiue the loue come from her: they say too, that she will rather die than giue any signe of affection: I did neuer thinke to marry, I must not seeme proud, happy are they that heare their detractions, and can put them to mending: they say the Lady is faire, 'tis a truth, I can beare them witnesse: and vertuous, tis so, I cannot reprooue it, and wise, but for louing me, by my troth it is no addition to her witte, nor no great argument of her folly; for I wil be horribly in loue with her, I may chance haue some odde quirkes and remnants of witte broken on mee, because I haue rail'd so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loues the meat in his youth, that he cannot indure in his age. Shall quips and sentences, and these paper bullets of the braine awe a man from the careere of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a batcheler, I did not think I should liue till I were maried, here comes Beatrice: by this day, shee's a faire Lady, I doe spie some markes of loue in her. Enter Beatrice.

Beat. Against my wil I am sent to bid you come in to dinner

Bene. Faire Beatrice, I thanke you for your paines

Beat. I tooke no more paines for those thankes, then you take paines to thanke me, if it had been painefull, I would not haue come

Bene. You take pleasure then in the message

Beat. Yea iust so much as you may take vpon a kniues point, and choake a daw withall: you haue no stomacke signior, fare you well. Enter.

Bene. Ha, against my will I am sent to bid you come into dinner: there's a double meaning in that: I tooke no more paines for those thankes then you took paines to thanke me, that's as much as to say, any paines that I take for you is as easie as thankes: if I do not take pitty of her I am a villaine, if I doe not loue her I am a Iew, I will goe get her picture. Enter.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Hero and two Gentlemen, Margaret, and Vrsula.

Hero. Good Margaret runne thee to the parlour, There shalt thou finde my Cosin Beatrice, Proposing with the Prince and Claudio, Whisper her eare, and tell her I and Vrsula, Walke in the Orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her, say that thou ouer-heardst vs, And bid her steale into the pleached bower, Where hony-suckles ripened by the sunne, Forbid the sunne to enter: like fauourites, Made proud by Princes, that aduance their pride, Against that power that bred it, there will she hide her, To listen our purpose, this is thy office, Beare thee well in it, and leaue vs alone

Marg. Ile make her come I warrant you presently

Hero. Now Vrsula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley vp and downe, Our talke must onely be of Benedicke, When I doe name him, let it be thy part, To praise him more then euer man did merit, My talke to thee must be how Benedicke Is sicke in loue with Beatrice; of this matter, Is little Cupids crafty arrow made, That onely wounds by heare-say: now begin, Enter Beatrice.

For looke where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs Close by the ground, to heare our conference

Vrs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden ores the siluer streame, And greedily deuoure the treacherous baite: So angle we for Beatrice, who euen now, Is couched in the wood-bine couerture, Feare you not my part of the Dialogue

Her. Then go we neare her that her eare loose nothing, Of the false sweete baite that we lay for it: No truely Vrsula, she is too disdainfull, I know her spirits are as coy and wilde, As Haggerds of the rocke

Vrsula. But are you sure, That Benedicke loues Beatrice so intirely? Her. So saies the Prince, and my new trothed Lord

Vrs. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam? Her. They did intreate me to acquaint her of it, But I perswaded them, if they lou'd Benedicke, To wish him wrastle with affection, And neuer to let Beatrice know of it

Vrsula. Why did you so, doth not the Gentleman Deserue as full as fortunate a bed, As euer Beatrice shall couch vpon? Hero. O God of loue! I know he doth deserue, As much as may be yeelded to a man: But Nature neuer fram'd a womans heart, Of prowder stuffe then that of Beatrice: Disdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eyes, Mis-prizing what they looke on, and her wit Values it selfe so highly, that to her All matter else seemes weake: she cannot loue, Nor take no shape nor proiect of affection, Shee is so selfe indeared

Vrsula. Sure I thinke so, And therefore certainely it were not good She knew his loue, lest she make sport at it

Hero. Why you speake truth, I neuer yet saw man, How wise, how noble, yong, how rarely featur'd. But she would spell him backward: if faire fac'd, She would sweare the gentleman should be her sister: If blacke, why Nature drawing of an anticke, Made a foule blot: if tall, a launce ill headed: If low, an agot very vildlie cut: If speaking, why a vane blowne with all windes: If silent, why a blocke moued with none. So turnes she euery man the wrong side out, And neuer giues to Truth and Vertue, that Which simplenesse and merit purchaseth

Vrsu. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable

Hero. No, not to be so odde, and from all fashions, As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable, But who dare tell her so? if I should speake, She would mocke me into ayre, O she would laugh me Out of my selfe, presse me to death with wit, Therefore let Benedicke like couered fire, Consume away in sighes, waste inwardly: It were a better death, to die with mockes, Which is as bad as die with tickling

Vrsu. Yet tell her of it, heare what shee will say

Hero. No, rather I will goe to Benedicke, And counsaile him to fight against his passion, And truly Ile deuise some honest slanders, To staine my cosin with, one doth not know, How much an ill word may impoison liking

Vrsu. O doe not doe your cosin such a wrong, She cannot be so much without true iudgement, Hauing so swift and excellent a wit As she is prisde to haue, as to refuse So rare a Gentleman as signior Benedicke

Hero. He is the onely man of Italy, Alwaies excepted, my deare Claudio

Vrsu. I pray you be not angry with me, Madame, Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedicke, For shape, for bearing argument and valour, Goes formost in report through Italy

Hero. Indeed he hath an excellent good name

Vrsu. His excellence did earne it ere he had it: When are you married Madame? Hero. Why euerie day to morrow, come goe in, Ile shew thee some attires, and haue thy counsell, Which is the best to furnish me to morrow

Vrsu. Shee's tane I warrant you, We haue caught her Madame? Hero. If it proue so, then louing goes by haps, Some Cupid kills with arrowes, some with traps. Enter.

Beat. What fire is in mine eares? can this be true? Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorne so much? Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adew, No glory liues behinde the backe of such. And Benedicke, loue on, I will requite thee, Taming my wilde heart to thy louing hand: If thou dost loue, my kindnesse shall incite thee To binde our loues vp in a holy band. For others say thou dost deserue, and I Beleeue it better then reportingly. Enter.

Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedicke, and Leonato.

Prince. I doe but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then go I toward Arragon

Clau. Ile bring you thither my Lord, if you'l vouchsafe me

Prin. Nay, that would be as great a soyle in the new glosse of your marriage, as to shew a childe his new coat and forbid him to weare it, I will onely bee bold with Benedicke for his companie, for from the crowne of his head, to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth, he hath twice or thrice cut Cupids bow-string, and the little hang-man dare not shoot at him, he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinkes, his tongue speakes

Bene. Gallants, I am not as I haue bin

Leo. So say I, methinkes you are sadder

Claud. I hope he be in loue

Prin. Hang him truant, there's no true drop of bloud in him to be truly toucht with loue, if he be sad, he wants money

Bene. I haue the tooth-ach

Prin. Draw it

Bene. Hang it

Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards

Prin. What? sigh for the tooth-ach

Leon. Where is but a humour or a worme

Bene. Well, euery one cannot master a griefe, but hee that has it

Clau. Yet say I, he is in loue

Prin. There is no appearance of fancie in him, vnlesse it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises, as to bee a Dutchman to day, a Frenchman to morrow: vnlesse hee haue a fancy to this foolery, as it appeares hee hath, hee is no foole for fancy, as you would haue it to appeare he is

Clau. If he be not in loue with some woman, there is no beleeuing old signes, a brushes his hat a mornings, What should that bode? Prin. Hath any man seene him at the Barbers? Clau. No, but the Barbers man hath beene seen with him, and the olde ornament of his cheeke hath alreadie stuft tennis balls

Leon. Indeed he lookes yonger than hee did, by the losse of a beard

Prin. Nay a rubs himselfe with Ciuit, can you smell him out by that? Clau. That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in loue

Prin. The greatest note of it is his melancholy

Clau. And when was he wont to wash his face? Prin. Yea, or to paint himselfe? for the which I heare what they say of him

Clau. Nay, but his iesting spirit, which is now crept into a lute-string, and now gouern'd by stops

Prin. Indeed that tels a heauy tale for him: conclude, he is in loue

Clau. Nay, but I know who loues him

Prince. That would I know too, I warrant one that knowes him not

Cla. Yes, and his ill conditions, and in despight of all, dies for him

Prin. Shee shall be buried with her face vpwards

Bene. Yet is this no charme for the tooth-ake, old signior, walke aside with mee, I haue studied eight or nine wise words to speake to you, which these hobby-horses must not heare

Prin. For my life to breake with him about Beatrice

Clau. 'Tis euen so, Hero and Margaret haue by this played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Beares will not bite one another when they meete. Enter Iohn the Bastard.

Bast. My Lord and brother, God saue you

Prin. Good den brother

Bast. If your leisure seru'd, I would speake with you

Prince. In priuate? Bast. If it please you, yet Count Claudio may heare, for what I would speake of, concernes him

Prin. What's the matter? Basta. Meanes your Lordship to be married to morrow? Prin. You know he does

Bast. I know not that when he knowes what I know

Clau. If there be any impediment, I pray you discouer it

Bast. You may thinke I loue you not, let that appeare hereafter, and ayme better at me by that I now will manifest, for my brother (I thinke, he holds you well, and in dearenesse of heart) hath holpe to effect your ensuing marriage: surely sute ill spent, and labour ill bestowed

Prin. Why, what's the matter? Bastard. I came hither to tell you, and circumstances shortned, (for she hath beene too long a talking of) the Lady is disloyall

Clau. Who Hero? Bast. Euen shee, Leonatoes Hero, your Hero, euery mans Hero

Clau. Disloyall? Bast. The word is too good to paint out her wickednesse, I could say she were worse, thinke you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it: wonder not till further warrant: goe but with mee to night, you shal see her chamber window entred, euen the night before her wedding day, if you loue her, then to morrow wed her: But it would better fit your honour to change your minde

Claud. May this be so? Princ. I will not thinke it

Bast. If you dare not trust that you see, confesse not that you know: if you will follow mee, I will shew you enough, and when you haue seene more, & 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 shold wedde, there will I shame her

Prin. And as I wooed for thee to obtaine her, I will ioyne with thee to disgrace her

Bast. I will disparage her no farther, till you are my witnesses, beare it coldly but till night, and let the issue shew it selfe

Prin. O day vntowardly turned! Claud. O mischiefe strangelie thwarting! Bastard. O plague right well preuented! so will you say, when you haue seene the sequele. Enter.

Enter Dogbery and his compartner with the watch.

Dog. Are you good men and true? Verg. Yea, or else it were pitty but they should suffer saluation body and soule

Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should haue any allegiance in them, being chosen for the Princes watch

Verges. Well, giue them their charge, neighbour Dogbery

Dog. First, who thinke you the most desartlesse man to be Constable

Watch.1. Hugh Ote-cake sir, or George Sea-coale, for they can write and reade

Dogb. Come hither neighbour Sea-coale, God hath blest you with a good name: to be a wel-fauoured man, is the gift of Fortune, but to write and reade, comes by Nature

Watch 2. Both which Master Constable Dogb. You haue: I knew it would be your answere: well, for your fauour sir, why giue God thankes, & make no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, let that appeare when there is no need of such vanity, you are thought heere to be the most senslesse and fit man for the Constable of the watch: therefore beare you the lanthorne: this is your charge: You shall comprehend all vagrom men, you are to bid any man stand in the Princes name

Watch 2. How if a will not stand? Dogb. Why then take no note of him, but let him go, and presently call the rest of the Watch together, and thanke God you are ridde of a knaue

Verges. If he will not stand when he is bidden, hee is none of the Princes subiects

Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none but the Princes subiects: you shall also make no noise in the streetes: for, for the Watch to babble and talke, is most tollerable, and not to be indured

Watch. We will rather sleepe than talke, wee know what belongs to a Watch

Dog. Why you speake like an ancient and most quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend: only haue a care that your bills be not stolne: well, you are to call at all the Alehouses, and bid them that are drunke get them to bed

Watch. How if they will not? Dogb. Why then let them alone till they are sober, if they make you not then the better answere, you may say, they are not the men you tooke them for

Watch. Well sir, Dogb. If you meet a theefe, you may suspect him, by vertue of your office, to be no true man: and for such kinde of men, the lesse you meddle or make with them, why the more is for your honesty

Watch. If wee know him to be a thiefe, shall wee not lay hands on him

Dogb. Truly by your office you may, but I think they that touch pitch will be defil'd: the most peaceable way for you, if you doe take a theefe, is, to let him shew himselfe what he is, and steale out of your company

Ver. You haue bin alwaies cal'd a merciful ma[n] partner

Dog. Truely I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath anie honestie in him

Verges. If you heare a child crie in the night you must call to the nurse, and bid her still it

Watch. How if the nurse be asleepe and will not heare vs? Dog. Why then depart in peace, and let the childe wake her with crying, for the ewe that will not heare her Lambe when it baes, will neuer answere a calfe when he bleates

Verges. 'Tis verie true

Dog. This is the end of the charge: you constable are to present the Princes owne person, if you meete the Prince in the night, you may staie him

Verges. Nay birladie that I thinke a cannot

Dog. Fiue shillings to one on't with anie man that knowes the Statutes, he may staie him, marrie not without the prince be willing, for indeed the watch ought to offend no man, and it is an offence to stay a man against his will

Verges. Birladie I thinke it be so

Dog. Ha, ah ha, well masters good night, and there be anie matter of weight chances, call vp me, keepe your fellowes counsailes, and your owne, and good night, come neighbour

Watch. Well masters, we heare our charge, let vs go sit here vpon the Church bench till two, and then all to bed

Dog. One word more, honest neighbors. I pray you watch about signior Leonatoes doore, for the wedding being there to morrow, there is a great coyle to night, adiew, be vigitant I beseech you.

Exeunt.

Enter Borachio and Conrade.

Bor. What, Conrade? Watch. Peace, stir not

Bor. Conrade I say

Con. Here man, I am at thy elbow

Bor. Mas and my elbow itcht, I thought there would a scabbe follow

Con. I will owe thee an answere for that, and now forward with thy tale

Bor. Stand thee close then vnder this penthouse, for it drissels raine, and I will, like a true drunkard, vtter all to thee

Watch. Some treason masters, yet stand close

Bor. Therefore know, I haue earned of Don Iohn a thousand Ducates

Con. Is it possible that anie villanie should be so deare? Bor. Thou should'st rather aske if it were possible anie villanie should be so rich? for when rich villains haue neede of poore ones, poore ones may make what price they will

Con. I wonder at it

Bor. That shewes thou art vnconfirm'd, thou knowest that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloake, is nothing to a man

Con. Yes, it is apparell

Bor. I meane the fashion

Con. Yes the fashion is the fashion

Bor. Tush, I may as well say the foole's the foole, but seest thou not what a deformed theefe this fashion is? Watch. I know that deformed, a has bin a vile theefe, this vii. yeares, a goes vp and downe like a gentle man: I remember his name

Bor. Did'st thou not heare some bodie? Con. No, 'twas the vaine on the house

Bor. Seest thou not (I say) what a deformed thiefe this fashion is, how giddily a turnes about all the Hotblouds, betweene, foureteene & fiue & thirtie, sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoes souldiours in the rechie painting, sometime like god Bels priests in the old Church window, sometime like the shauen Hercules in the smircht worm-eaten tapestrie, where his cod-peece seemes as massie as his club

Con. All this I see, and see that the fashion weares out more apparrell then the man; but art not thou thy selfe giddie with the fashion too that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion? Bor. Not so neither, but know that I haue to night wooed Margaret the Lady Heroes gentle-woman, by the name of Hero, she leanes me out at her mistris chamberwindow, bids me a thousand times good night: I tell this tale vildly. I should first tell thee how the Prince Claudio and my Master planted, and placed, and possessed by my Master Don Iohn, saw a far off in the Orchard this amiable incounter

Con. And thought thy Margaret was Hero? Bor. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, but the diuell my Master knew she was Margaret and partly by his oathes, which first possest them, partly by the darke night which did deceiue them, but chiefely, by my villanie, which did confirme any slander that Don Iohn had made, away went Claudio enraged, swore hee would meete her as he was apointed next morning at the Temple, and there, before the whole congregation shame her with what he saw o're night, and send her home againe without a husband

Watch.1. We charge you in the Princes name stand

Watch.2. Call vp the right master Constable, we haue here recouered the most dangerous peece of lechery, that euer was knowne in the Common-wealth

Watch.1. And one Deformed is one of them, I know him, a weares a locke

Conr. Masters, masters

Watch.2. Youle be made bring deformed forth I warrant you, Conr. Masters, neuer speake, we charge you, let vs obey you to goe with vs

Bor. We are like to proue a goodly commoditie, being taken vp of these mens bils

Conr. A commoditie in question I warrant you, come weele obey you.

Exeunt.

Enter Hero, and Margaret, and Vrsula.

Hero. Good Vrsula wake my cosin Beatrice, and desire her to rise

Vrsu. I will Lady

Her. And bid her come hither

Vrs. Well

Mar. Troth I thinke your other rebato were better

Hero. No pray thee good Meg, Ile weare this

Marg. By my troth's not so good, and I warrant your cosin will say so

Hero. My cosin's a foole, and thou art another, ile weare none but this

Mar. I like the new tire within excellently, if the haire were a thought browner: and your gown's a most rare fashion yfaith, I saw the Dutchesse of Millaines gowne that they praise so

Hero. O that exceedes they say

Mar. By my troth's but a night-gowne in respect of yours, cloth a gold and cuts, and lac'd with siluer, set with pearles, downe sleeues, side sleeues, and skirts, round vnderborn with a blewish tinsel, but for a fine queint gracefull and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on't

Hero. God giue mee ioy to weare it, for my heart is exceeding heauy

Marga. 'Twill be heauier soone, by the waight of a man

Hero. Fie vpon thee, art not asham'd? Marg. Of what Lady? of speaking honourably? is not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your Lord honourable without marriage? I thinke you would haue me say, sauing your reuerence a husband: and bad thinking doe not wrest true speaking, Ile offend no body, is there any harme in the heauier for a husband? none I thinke, and it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwise 'tis light and not heauy, aske my Lady Beatrice else, here she comes. Enter Beatrice.

Hero. Good morrow Coze

Beat. Good morrow sweet Hero

Hero. Why how now? do you speake in the sick tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, me thinkes

Mar. Claps into Light a loue, (that goes without a burden,) do you sing it and Ile dance it

Beat. Ye Light aloue with your heeles, then if your husband haue stables enough, you'll looke he shall lacke no barnes

Mar. O illegitimate construction! I scorne that with my heeles

Beat. 'Tis almost fiue a clocke cosin, 'tis time you were ready, by my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho

Mar. For a hauke, a horse, or a husband? Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H

Mar. Well, and you be not turn'd Turke, there's no more sayling by the starre

Beat. What meanes the foole trow? Mar. Nothing I, but God send euery one their harts desire

Hero. These gloues the Count sent mee, they are an excellent perfume

Beat. I am stuft cosin, I cannot smell

Mar. A maid and stuft! there's goodly catching of colde

Beat. O God helpe me, God help me, how long haue you profest apprehension? Mar. Euer since you left it, doth not my wit become me rarely? Beat. It is not seene enough, you should weare it in your cap, by my troth I am sicke

Mar. Get you some of this distill'd carduus benedictus and lay it to your heart, it is the onely thing for a qualm

Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thissell

Beat. Benedictus, why benedictus? you haue some morall in this benedictus

Mar. Morall? no by my troth, I haue no morall meaning, I meant plaine holy thissell, you may thinke perchance that I thinke you are in loue, nay birlady I am not such a foole to thinke what I list, nor I list not to thinke what I can, nor indeed, I cannot thinke, if I would thinke my hart out of thinking, that you are in loue, or that you will be in loue, or that you can be in loue: yet Benedicke was such another, and now is he become a man, he swore hee would neuer marry, and yet now in despight of his heart he eates his meat without grudging, and how you may be conuerted I know not, but me thinkes you looke with your eies as other women doe

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keepes

Mar. Not a false gallop. Enter Vrsula.

Vrsula. Madam, withdraw, the Prince, the Count, signior Benedicke, Don Iohn, and all the gallants of the towne are come to fetch you to Church

Hero. Helpe me to dresse mee good coze, good Meg, good Vrsula. Enter Leonato, and the Constable, and the Headborough.

Leonato. What would you with mee, honest neighbour? Const.Dog. Mary sir I would haue some confidence with you, that decernes you nearely

Leon. Briefe I pray you, for you see it is a busie time with me

Const.Dog. Mary this it is sir

Headb. Yes in truth it is sir

Leon. What is it my good friends? Con.Do. Goodman Verges sir speakes a little of the matter, an old man sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as God helpe I would desire they were, but infaith honest as the skin betweene his browes

Head. Yes I thank God, I am as honest as any man liuing, that is an old man, and no honester then I

Con.Dog. Comparisons are odorous, palabras, neighbour Verges

Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious

Con.Dog. It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poore Dukes officers, but truely for mine owne part, if I were as tedious as a King I could finde in my heart to bestow it all of your worship

Leon. All thy tediousnesse on me, ah? Const.Dog. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis, for I heare as good exclamation on your Worship as of any man in the Citie, and though I bee but a poore man, I am glad to heare it

Head. And so am I

Leon. I would faine know what you haue to say

Head. Marry sir our watch to night, excepting your worships presence, haue tane a couple of as arrant knaues as any in Messina

Con.Dog. A good old man sir, hee will be talking as they say, when the age is in, the wit is out, God helpe vs, it is a world to see: well said yfaith neighbour Verges, well, God's a good man, and two men ride of a horse, one must ride behinde, an honest soule yfaith sir, by my troth he is, as euer broke bread, but God is to bee worshipt, all men are not alike, alas good neighbour

Leon. Indeed neighbour he comes too short of you

Con.Do. Gifts that God giues

Leon. I must leaue you

Con.Dog. One word sir, our watch sir haue indeede comprehended two aspitious persons, & we would haue them this morning examined before your worship

Leon. Take their examination your selfe, and bring it me, I am now in great haste, as may appeare vnto you

Const. It shall be suffigance

Leon. Drinke some wine ere you goe: fare you well. Enter.

Messenger. My Lord, they stay for you to giue your daughter to her husband

Leon. Ile wait vpon them, I am ready

Dogb. Goe good partner, goe get you to Francis Seacoale, bid him bring his pen and inkehorne to the Gaole: we are now to examine those men

Verges. And we must doe it wisely

Dogb. Wee will spare for no witte I warrant you: heere's that shall driue some to a non-come, only get the learned writer to set downe our excommunication, and meet me at the Iaile.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Prince, Bastard, Leonato, Frier, Claudio, Benedicke, Hero, and Beatrice.

Leonato. Come Frier Francis, be briefe, onely to the plaine forme of marriage, and you shal recount their particular duties afterwards

Fran. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this Lady

Clau. No

Leo. To be married to her: Frier, you come to marrie her

Frier. Lady, you come hither to be married to this Count

Hero. I doe

Frier. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conioyned, I charge you on your soules to vtter it

Claud. Know you anie, Hero? Hero. None my Lord

Frier. Know you anie, Count? Leon. I dare make his answer, None

Clau. O what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! Bene. How now! interiections? why then, some be of laughing, as ha, ha, he

Clau. Stand thee by Frier, father, by your leaue, Will you with free and vnconstrained soule Giue me this maid your daughter? Leon. As freely sonne as God did giue her me

Cla. And what haue I to giue you back, whose worth May counterpoise this rich and precious gift? Prin. Nothing, vnlesse you render her againe

Clau. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulnes: There Leonato, take her backe againe, Giue not this rotten Orenge to your friend, Shee's but the signe and semblance of her honour: Behold how like a maid she blushes heere! O what authoritie and shew of truth Can cunning sinne couer it selfe withall! Comes not that bloud, as modest euidence, To witnesse simple Vertue? would you not sweare All you that see her, that she were a maide, By these exterior shewes? But she is none: She knowes the heat of a luxurious bed: Her blush is guiltinesse, not modestie

Leonato. What doe you meane, my Lord? Clau. Not to be married, Not to knit my soule to an approued wanton

Leon. Deere my Lord, if you in your owne proofe, Haue vanquisht the resistance of her youth, And made defeat of her virginitie

Clau. I know what you would say: if I haue knowne (her, You will say, she did imbrace me as a husband, And so extenuate the forehand sinne: No Leonato, I neuer tempted her with word too large, But as a brother to his sister, shewed Bashfull sinceritie and comely loue

Hero. And seem'd I euer otherwise to you? Clau. Out on thee seeming, I will write against it, You seeme to me as Diane in her Orbe, As chaste as is the budde ere it be blowne: But you are more intemperate in your blood, Than Venus, or those pampred animalls, That rage in sauage sensualitie

Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth speake so wide? Leon. Sweete Prince, why speake not you? Prin. What should I speake? I stand dishonour'd that haue gone about, To linke my deare friend to a common stale

Leon. Are these things spoken, or doe I but dreame? Bast. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true

Bene. This lookes not like a nuptiall

Hero. True, O God! Clau. Leonato, stand I here? Is this the Prince? is this the Princes brother? Is this face Heroes? are our eies our owne? Leon. All this is so, but what of this my Lord? Clau. Let me but moue one question to your daughter, And by that fatherly and kindly power, That you haue in her, bid her answer truly

Leo. I charge thee doe, as thou art my childe

Hero. O God defend me how am I beset, What kinde of catechizing call you this? Clau. To make you answer truly to your name

Hero. Is it not Hero? who can blot that name With any iust reproach? Claud. Marry that can Hero, Hero it selfe can blot out Heroes vertue. What man was he, talkt with you yesternight, Out at your window betwixt twelue and one? Now if you are a maid, answer to this

Hero. I talkt with no man at that howre my Lord

Prince. Why then you are no maiden. Leonato, I am sorry you must heare: vpon mine honor, My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Count Did see her, heare her, at that howre last night, Talke with a ruffian at her chamber window, Who hath indeed most like a liberall villaine, Confest the vile encounters they haue had A thousand times in secret

Iohn. Fie, fie, they are not to be named my Lord, Not to be spoken of, There is not chastitie enough in language, Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty Lady I am sorry for thy much misgouernment

Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou beene If halfe thy outward graces had beene placed About thy thoughts and counsailes of thy heart? But fare thee well, most foule, most faire, farewell Thou pure impiety, and impious puritie, For thee Ile locke vp all the gates of Loue, And on my eie-lids shall Coniecture hang, To turne all beauty into thoughts of harme, And neuer shall it more be gracious

Leon. Hath no mans dagger here a point for me? Beat. Why how now cosin, wherfore sink you down? Bast. Come, let vs go: these things come thus to light, Smother her spirits vp

Bene. How doth the Lady? Beat. Dead I thinke, helpe vncle, Hero, why Hero, Vncle, Signor Benedicke, Frier

Leonato. O Fate! take not away thy heauy hand, Death is the fairest couer for her shame That may be wisht for

Beatr. How now cosin Hero? Fri. Haue comfort Ladie

Leon. Dost thou looke vp? Frier. Yea, wherefore should she not? Leon. Wherfore? Why doth not euery earthly thing Cry shame vpon her? Could she heere denie The storie that is printed in her blood? Do not liue Hero, do not ope thine eyes: For did I thinke thou wouldst not quickly die, Thought I thy spirits were stronger then thy shames, My selfe would on the reward of reproaches Strike at thy life. Grieu'd I, I had but one? Chid I, for that at frugal Natures frame? O one too much by thee: why had I one? Why euer was't thou louelie in my eies? Why had I not with charitable hand Tooke vp a beggars issue at my gates, Who smeered thus, and mir'd with infamie, I might haue said, no part of it is mine: This shame deriues it selfe from vnknowne loines, But mine, and mine I lou'd, and mine I prais'd, And mine that I was proud on mine so much, That I my selfe, was to my selfe not mine: Valewing of her, why she, O she is falne Into a pit of Inke, that the wide sea Hath drops too few to wash her cleane againe, And salt too little, which may season giue To her foule tainted flesh

Ben. Sir, sir, be patient: for my part, I am so attired in wonder, I know not what to say

Bea. O on my soule my cosin is belied

Ben. Ladie, were you her bedfellow last night? Bea. No, truly: not although vntill last night, I haue this tweluemonth bin her bedfellow

Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd, O that is stronger made Which was before barr'd vp with ribs of iron. Would the Princes lie, and Claudio lie, Who lou'd her so, that speaking of her foulnesse, Wash'd it with teares? Hence from her, let her die

Fri. Heare me a little, for I haue onely bene silent so long, and giuen way vnto this course of fortune, by noting of the Ladie, I haue markt. A thousand blushing apparitions, To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames, In Angel whitenesse beare away those blushes, And in her eie there hath appear'd a fire To burne the errors that these Princes hold Against her maiden truth. Call me a foole, Trust not my reading, nor my obseruations, Which with experimental seale doth warrant The tenure of my booke: trust not my age, My reuerence, calling, nor diuinitie, If this sweet Ladie lye not guiltlesse heere, Vnder some biting error

Leo. Friar, it cannot be: Thou seest that all the Grace that she hath left, Is, that she wil not adde to her damnation, A sinne of periury, she not denies it: Why seek'st thou then to couer with excuse, That which appeares in proper nakednesse? Fri. Ladie, what man is he you are accus'd of? Hero. They know that do accuse me, I know none: If I know more of any man aliue Then that which maiden modestie doth warrant, Let all my sinnes lacke mercy. O my Father, Proue you that any man with me conuerst, At houres vnmeete, or that I yesternight Maintain'd the change of words with any creature, Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death

Fri. There is some strange misprision in the Princes

Ben. Two of them haue the verie bent of honor, And if their wisedomes be misled in this: The practise of it liues in Iohn the bastard, Whose spirits toile in frame of villanies

Leo. I know not: if they speake but truth of her, These hands shall teare her: If they wrong her honour, The proudest of them shall wel heare of it. Time hath not yet so dried this bloud of mine, Nor age so eate vp my inuention, Nor Fortune made such hauocke of my meanes, Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, But they shall finde, awak'd in such a kinde, Both strength of limbe, and policie of minde, Ability in meanes, and choise of friends, To quit me of them throughly

Fri. Pause awhile: And let my counsell sway you in this case, Your daughter heere the Princesse (left for dead) Let her awhile be secretly kept in, And publish it, that she is dead indeed: Maintaine a mourning ostentation, And on your Families old monument, Hang mournfull Epitaphes, and do all rites, That appertaine vnto a buriall

Leon. What shall become of this? What wil this do? Fri. Marry this wel carried, shall on her behalfe, Change slander to remorse, that is some good, But not for that dreame I on this strange course, But on this trauaile looke for greater birth: She dying, as it must be so maintain'd, Vpon the instant that she was accus'd, Shal be lamented, pittied, and excus'd Of euery hearer: for it so fals out, That what we haue, we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enioy it; but being lack'd and lost, Why then we racke the value, then we finde The vertue that possession would not shew vs Whiles it was ours, so will it fare with Claudio: When he shal heare she dyed vpon his words, Th' Idea of her life shal sweetly creepe Into his study of imagination. And euery louely Organ of her life, Shall come apparel'd in more precious habite: More mouing delicate, and ful of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soule Then when she liu'd indeed: then shal he mourne, If euer Loue had interest in his Liuer, And wish he had not so accused her: No, though he thought his accusation true: Let this be so, and doubt not but successe Wil fashion the euent in better shape, Then I can lay it downe in likelihood. But if all ayme but this be leuelld false, The supposition of the Ladies death, Will quench the wonder of her infamie. And if it sort not well, you may conceale her As best befits her wounded reputation, In some reclusiue and religious life, Out of all eyes, tongues, mindes and iniuries

Bene. Signior Leonato, let the Frier aduise you, And though you know my inwardnesse and loue Is very much vnto the Prince and Claudio. Yet, by mine honor, I will deale in this, As secretly and iustlie, as your soule Should with your bodie

Leon. Being that I flow in greefe, The smallest twine may lead me

Frier. 'Tis well consented, presently away, For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure, Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure. Enter.

Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while? Beat. Yea, and I will weepe a while longer

Bene. I will not desire that

Beat. You haue no reason, I doe it freely

Bene. Surelie I do beleeue your fair cosin is wrong'd

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserue of mee that would right her! Bene. Is there any way to shew such friendship? Beat. A verie euen way, but no such friend

Bene. May a man doe it? Beat. It is a mans office, but not yours

Bene. I doe loue nothing in the world so well as you, is not that strange? Beat. As strange as the thing I know not, it were as possible for me to say, I loued nothing so well as you, but beleeue me not, and yet I lie not, I confesse nothing, nor I deny nothing, I am sorry for my cousin

Bene. By my sword Beatrice thou lou'st me

Beat. Doe not sweare by it and eat it

Bene. I will sweare by it that you loue mee, and I will make him eat it that sayes I loue not you

Beat. Will you not eat your word? Bene. With no sawce that can be deuised to it, I protest I loue thee

Beat. Why then God forgiue me

Bene. What offence sweet Beatrice? Beat. You haue stayed me in a happy howre, I was about to protest I loued you

Bene. And doe it with all thy heart

Beat. I loue you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest

Bened. Come, bid me doe any thing for thee

Beat. Kill Claudio

Bene. Ha, not for the wide world

Beat. You kill me to denie, farewell

Bene. Tarrie sweet Beatrice

Beat. I am gone, though I am heere, there is no loue in you, nay I pray you let me goe

Bene. Beatrice

Beat. Infaith I will goe

Bene. Wee'll be friends first

Beat. You dare easier be friends with mee, than fight with mine enemy

Bene. Is Claudio thine enemie? Beat. Is a not approued in the height a villaine, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! what, beare her in hand vntill they come to take hands, and then with publike accusation vncouered slander, vnmittigated rancour? O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place

Bene. Heare me Beatrice

Beat. Talke with a man out at a window, a proper saying

Bene. Nay but Beatrice

Beat. Sweet Hero, she is wrong'd, shee is slandered, she is vndone

Bene. Beat? Beat. Princes and Counties! surelie a Princely testimonie, a goodly Count, Comfect, a sweet Gallant surelie, O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into cursies, valour into complement, and men are onelie turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and sweares it: I cannot be a man with wishing, therfore I will die a woman with grieuing

Bene. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee

Beat. Vse it for my loue some other way then swearing by it

Bened. Thinke you in your soule the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero? Beat. Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a soule

Bene. Enough, I am engagde, I will challenge him, I will kisse your hand, and so leaue you: by this hand Claudio shall render me a deere account: as you heare of me, so thinke of me: goe comfort your coosin, I must say she is dead, and so farewell. Enter the Constables, Borachio, and the Towne Clerke in gownes.

Keeper. Is our whole dissembly appeard? Cowley. O a stoole and a cushion for the Sexton

Sexton. Which be the malefactors? Andrew. Marry that am I, and my partner

Cowley. Nay that's certaine, wee haue the exhibition to examine

Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examined, let them come before master Constable

Kemp. Yea marry, let them come before mee, what is your name, friend? Bor. Borachio

Kem. Pray write downe Borachio. Yours sirra

Con. I am a Gentleman sir, and my name is Conrade

Kee. Write downe Master gentleman Conrade: maisters, doe you serue God: maisters, it is proued alreadie that you are little better than false knaues, and it will goe neere to be thought so shortly, how answer you for your selues? Con. Marry sir, we say we are none

Kemp. A maruellous witty fellow I assure you, but I will goe about with him: come you hither sirra, a word in your eare sir, I say to you, it is thought you are false knaues

Bor. Sir, I say to you, we are none

Kemp. Well, stand aside, 'fore God they are both in a tale: haue you writ downe that they are none? Sext. Master Constable, you goe not the way to examine, you must call forth the watch that are their accusers

Kemp. Yea marry, that's the eftest way, let the watch come forth: masters, I charge you in the Princes name, accuse these men

Watch 1. This man said sir, that Don Iohn the Princes brother was a villaine

Kemp. Write down, Prince Iohn a villaine: why this is flat periurie, to call a Princes brother villaine

Bora. Master Constable

Kemp. Pray thee fellow peace, I do not like thy looke I promise thee

Sexton. What heard you him say else? Watch 2. Mary that he had receiued a thousand Dukates of Don Iohn, for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully

Kemp. Flat Burglarie as euer was committed

Const. Yea by th' masse that it is

Sexton. What else fellow? Watch 1. And that Count Claudio did meane vpon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her

Kemp. O villaine! thou wilt be condemn'd into euerlasting redemption for this

Sexton. What else? Watch. This is all

Sexton. And this is more masters then you can deny, Prince Iohn is this morning secretly stolne away: Hero was in this manner accus'd, in this very manner refus'd, and vpon the griefe of this sodainely died: Master Constable, let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato, I will goe before, and shew him their examination

Const. Come, let them be opinion'd

Sex. Let them be in the hands of Coxcombe

Kem. Gods my life, where's the Sexton? let him write downe the Princes Officer Coxcombe: come, binde them thou naughty varlet

Couley. Away, you are an asse, you are an asse

Kemp. Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not suspect my yeeres? O that hee were heere to write mee downe an asse! but masters, remember that I am an asse: though it be not written down, yet forget not y I am an asse: No thou villaine, y art full of piety as shall be prou'd vpon thee by good witnesse, I am a wise fellow, and which is more, an officer, and which is more, a houshoulder, and which is more, as pretty a peece of flesh as any in Messina, and one that knowes the Law, goe to, & a rich fellow enough, goe to, and a fellow that hath had losses, and one that hath two gownes, and euery thing handsome about him: bring him away: O that I had been writ downe an asse! Enter.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Leonato and his brother.

Brother. If you goe on thus, you will kill your selfe, And 'tis not wisedome thus to second griefe, Against your selfe

Leon. I pray thee cease thy counsaile, Which falls into mine eares as profitlesse, As water in a siue: giue not me counsaile, Nor let no comfort delight mine eare, But such a one whose wrongs doth sute with mine. Bring me a father that so lou'd his childe, Whose ioy of her is ouer-whelmed like mine, And bid him speake of patience, Measure his woe the length and bredth of mine, And let it answere euery straine for straine, As thus for thus, and such a griefe for such, In euery lineament, branch, shape, and forme: If such a one will smile and stroke his beard, And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone, Patch griefe with prouerbs, make misfortune drunke, With candle-wasters: bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience: But there is no such man, for brother, men Can counsaile, and speake comfort to that griefe, Which they themselues not feele, but tasting it, Their counsaile turnes to passion, which before, Would giue preceptiall medicine to rage, Fetter strong madnesse in a silken thred, Charme ache with ayre, and agony with words, No, no, 'tis all mens office, to speake patience To those that wring vnder the load of sorrow: But no mans vertue nor sufficiencie To be so morall, when he shall endure The like himselfe: therefore giue me no counsaile, My griefs cry lowder then aduertisement

Broth. Therein do men from children nothing differ

Leonato. I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and bloud, For there was neuer yet Philosopher, That could endure the tooth-ake patiently, How euer they haue writ the stile of gods, And made a push at chance and sufferance

Brother. Yet bend not all the harme vpon your selfe, Make those that doe offend you, suffer too

Leon. There thou speak'st reason, nay I will doe so, My soule doth tell me, Hero is belied, And that shall Claudio know, so shall the Prince, And all of them that thus dishonour her. Enter Prince and Claudio.

Brot. Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily

Prin. Good den, good den

Clau. Good day to both of you

Leon. Heare you my Lords? Prin. We haue some haste Leonato

Leo. Some haste my Lord! wel, fareyouwel my Lord, Are you so hasty now? well, all is one

Prin. Nay, do not quarrel with vs, good old man

Brot. If he could rite himselfe with quarrelling, Some of vs would lie low

Claud. Who wrongs him? Leon. Marry y dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou: Nay, neuer lay thy hand vpon thy sword, I feare thee not

Claud. Marry beshrew my hand, If it should giue your age such cause of feare, Infaith my hand meant nothing to my sword

Leonato. Tush, tush, man, neuer fleere and iest at me, I speake not like a dotard, nor a foole, As vnder priuiledge of age to bragge, What I haue done being yong, or what would doe, Were I not old, know Claudio to thy head, Thou hast so wrong'd my innocent childe and me, That I am forc'd to lay my reuerence by, And with grey haires and bruise of many daies, Doe challenge thee to triall of a man, I say thou hast belied mine innocent childe. Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart, And she lies buried with her ancestors: O in a tombe where neuer scandall slept, Saue this of hers, fram'd by thy villanie

Claud. My villany? Leonato. Thine Claudio, thine I say

Prin. You say not right old man

Leon. My Lord, my Lord, Ile proue it on his body if he dare, Despight his nice fence, and his actiue practise, His Maie of youth, and bloome of lustihood

Claud. Away, I will not haue to do with you

Leo. Canst thou so daffe me? thou hast kild my child, If thou kilst me, boy, thou shalt kill a man

Bro. He shall kill two of vs, and men indeed, But that's no matter, let him kill one first: Win me and weare me, let him answere me, Come follow me boy, come sir boy, come follow me Sir boy, ile whip you from your foyning fence, Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will

Leon. Brother

Brot. Content your self, God knows I lou'd my neece, And she is dead, slander'd to death by villaines, That dare as well answer a man indeede, As I dare take a serpent by the tongue. Boyes, apes, braggarts, Iackes, milke-sops

Leon. Brother Anthony

Brot. Hold you content, what man? I know them, yea And what they weigh, euen to the vtmost scruple, Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boyes, That lye, and cog, and flout, depraue, and slander, Goe antiquely, and show outward hidiousnesse, And speake of halfe a dozen dang'rous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst. And this is all

Leon. But brother Anthonie

Ant. Come, 'tis no matter, Do not you meddle, let me deale in this

Pri. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience My heart is sorry for your daughters death: But on my honour she was charg'd with nothing But what was true, and very full of proofe

Leon. My Lord, my Lord

Prin. I will not heare you. Enter Benedicke.

Leo. No come brother, away, I will be heard.

Exeunt. ambo.

Bro. And shall, or some of vs will smart for it

Prin. See, see, here comes the man we went to seeke

Clau. Now signior, what newes? Ben. Good day my Lord

Prin. Welcome signior, you are almost come to part almost a fray

Clau. Wee had likt to haue had our two noses snapt off with two old men without teeth

Prin. Leonato and his brother, what think'st thou? had wee fought, I doubt we should haue beene too yong for them

Ben. In a false quarrell there is no true valour, I came to seeke you both

Clau. We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for we are high proofe melancholly, and would faine haue it beaten away, wilt thou vse thy wit? Ben. It is in my scabberd, shall I draw it? Prin. Doest thou weare thy wit by thy side? Clau. Neuer any did so, though verie many haue been beside their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as we do the minstrels, draw to pleasure vs

Prin. As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art thou sicke, or angrie? Clau. What, courage man: what though care kil'd a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care

Ben. Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and you charge it against me, I pray you chuse another subiect

Clau. Nay then giue him another staffe, this last was broke crosse

Prin. By this light, he changes more and more, I thinke he be angrie indeede

Clau. If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle

Ben. Shall I speake a word in your eare? Clau. God blesse me from a challenge

Ben. You are a villaine, I iest not, I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare: do me right, or I will protest your cowardise: you haue kill'd a sweete Ladie, and her death shall fall heauie on you, let me heare from you

Clau. Well, I will meete you, so I may haue good cheare

Prin. What, a feast, a feast? Clau. I faith I thanke him, he hath bid me to a calues head and a Capon, the which if I doe not carue most curiously, say my knife's naught, shall I not finde a woodcocke too? Ben. Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily

Prin. Ile tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day: I said thou hadst a fine wit: true saies she, a fine little one: no said I, a great wit: right saies shee, a great grosse one: nay said I, a good wit: iust said she, it hurts no body: nay said I, the gentleman is wise: certaine said she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he hath the tongues: that I beleeue said shee, for hee swore a thing to me on munday night, which he forswore on tuesday morning: there's a double tongue, there's two tongues: thus did shee an howre together trans-shape thy particular vertues, yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the proprest man in Italie

Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and said shee car'd not

Prin. Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if shee did not hate him deadlie, shee would loue him dearely, the old mans daughter told vs all

Clau. All, all, and moreouer, God saw him when he was hid in the garden

Prin. But when shall we set the sauage Bulls hornes on the sensible Benedicks head? Clau. Yea and text vnderneath, heere dwells Benedicke the married man

Ben. Fare you well, Boy, you know my minde, I will leaue you now to your gossep-like humor, you breake iests as braggards do their blades, which God be thanked hurt not: my Lord, for your manie courtesies I thank you, I must discontinue your companie, your brother the Bastard is fled from Messina: you haue among you, kill'd a sweet and innocent Ladie: for my Lord Lackebeard there, he and I shall meete, and till then peace be with him

Prin. He is in earnest

Clau. In most profound earnest, and Ile warrant you, for the loue of Beatrice

Prin. And hath challeng'd thee

Clau. Most sincerely

Prin. What a prettie thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hose, and leaues off his wit. Enter Constable, Conrade, and Borachio.

Clau. He is then a Giant to an Ape, but then is an Ape a Doctor to such a man

Prin. But soft you, let me be, plucke vp my heart, and be sad, did he not say my brother was fled? Const. Come you sir, if iustice cannot tame you, shee shall nere weigh more reasons in her ballance, nay, and you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be lookt to

Prin. How now, two of my brothers men bound? Borachio one

Clau. Harken after their offence my Lord

Prin. Officers, what offence haue these men done? Const. Marrie sir, they haue committed false report, moreouer they haue spoken vntruths, secondarily they are slanders, sixt and lastly, they haue belyed a Ladie, thirdly, they haue verified vniust things, and to conclude they are lying knaues

Prin. First I aske thee what they haue done, thirdlie I aske thee what's their offence, sixt and lastlie why they are committed, and to conclude, what you lay to their charge

Clau. Rightlie reasoned, and in his owne diuision, and by my troth there's one meaning well suted

Prin. Who haue you offended masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned Constable is too cunning to be vnderstood, what's your offence? Bor. Sweete Prince, let me go no farther to mine answere: do you heare me, and let this Count kill mee: I haue deceiued euen your verie eies: what your wisedomes could not discouer, these shallow fooles haue brought to light, who in the night ouerheard me confessing to this man, how Don Iohn your brother incensed me to slander the Ladie Hero, how you were brought into the Orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Heroes garments, how you disgrac'd her when you should marrie her: my villanie they haue vpon record, which I had rather seale with my death, then repeate ouer to my shame: the Ladie is dead vpon mine and my masters false accusation: and briefelie, I desire nothing but the reward of a villaine

Prin. Runs not this speech like yron through your bloud? Clau. I haue drunke poison whiles he vtter'd it

Prin. But did my Brother set thee on to this? Bor. Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it

Prin. He is compos'd and fram'd of treacherie, And fled he is vpon this villanie

Clau. Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appeare In the rare semblance that I lou'd it first

Const. Come, bring away the plaintiffes, by this time our Sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: and masters, do not forget to specifie when time & place shall serue, that I am an Asse

Con.2. Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too. Enter Leonato.

Leon. Which is the villaine? let me see his eies, That when I note another man like him, I may auoide him: which of these is he? Bor. If you would know your wronger, looke on me

Leon. Art thou the slaue that with thy breath hast kild mine innocent childe? Bor. Yea, euen I alone

Leo. No, not so villaine, thou beliest thy selfe, Here stand a paire of honourable men, A third is fled that had a hand in it: I thanke you Princes for my daughters death, Record it with your high and worthie deedes, 'Twas brauely done, if you bethinke you of it

Clau. I know not how to pray your patience, Yet I must speake, choose your reuenge your selfe, Impose me to what penance your inuention Can lay vpon my sinne, yet sinn'd I not, But in mistaking

Prin. By my soule nor I, And yet to satisfie this good old man, I would bend vnder anie heauie waight, That heele enioyne me to

Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter liue, That were impossible, but I praie you both, Possesse the people in Messina here, How innocent she died, and if your loue Can labour aught in sad inuention, Hang her an epitaph vpon her toomb, And sing it to her bones, sing it to night: To morrow morning come you to my house, And since you could not be my sonne in law, Be yet my Nephew: my brother hath a daughter, Almost the copie of my childe that's dead, And she alone is heire to both of vs, Giue her the right you should haue giu'n her cosin, And so dies my reuenge

Clau. O noble sir! Your ouerkindnesse doth wring teares from me, I do embrace your offer, and dispose For henceforth of poore Claudio

Leon. To morrow then I will expect your comming, To night I take my leaue, this naughtie man Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, Who I beleeue was packt in all this wrong, Hired to it by your brother

Bor. No, by my soule she was not, Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, But alwaies hath bin iust and vertuous, In anie thing that I do know by her

Const. Moreouer sir, which indeede is not vnder white and black, this plaintiffe here, the offendour did call mee asse, I beseech you let it be remembred in his punishment, and also the watch heard them talke of one Deformed, they say he weares a key in his eare and a lock hanging by it, and borrowes monie in Gods name, the which he hath vs'd so long, and neuer paied, that now men grow hard-harted and will lend nothing for Gods sake: praie you examine him vpon that point

Leon. I thanke thee for thy care and honest paines

Const. Your worship speakes like a most thankefull and reuerend youth, and I praise God for you

Leon. There's for thy paines

Const. God saue the foundation

Leon. Goe, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thanke thee

Const. I leaue an arrant knaue with your worship, which I beseech your worship to correct your selfe, for the example of others: God keepe your worship, I wish your worship well, God restore you to health, I humblie giue you leaue to depart, and if a merrie meeting may be wisht, God prohibite it: come neighbour

Leon. Vntill to morrow morning, Lords, farewell.

Exeunt.

Brot. Farewell my Lords, we looke for you to morrow

Prin. We will not faile

Clau. To night ile mourne with Hero

Leon. Bring you these fellowes on, weel talke with Margaret, How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.

Exeunt.

Enter Benedicke and Margaret.

Ben. Praie thee sweete Mistris Margaret, deserue well at my hands, by helping mee to the speech of Beatrice

Mar. Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of my beautie? Bene. In so high a stile Margaret, that no man liuing shall come ouer it, for in most comely truth thou deseruest it

Mar. To haue no man come ouer me, why, shall I alwaies keepe below staires? Bene. Thy wit is as quicke as the grey-hounds mouth, it catches

Mar. And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which hit, but hurt not

Bene. A most manly wit Margaret, it will not hurt a woman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the bucklers

Mar. Giue vs the swords, wee haue bucklers of our owne

Bene. If you vse them Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for Maides

Mar. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke hath legges.

Exit Margarite.

Ben. And therefore will come. The God of loue that sits aboue, and knowes me, and knowes me, how pittifull I deserue. I meane in singing, but in louing, Leander the good swimmer, Troilous the first imploier of pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose name yet runne smoothly in the euen rode of a blanke verse, why they were neuer so truely turned ouer and ouer as my poore selfe in loue: marrie I cannot shew it rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent rime: for scorne, horne, a hard rime: for schoole foole, a babling rime: verie ominous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a riming Plannet, for I cannot wooe in festiuall tearmes: Enter Beatrice.

sweete Beatrice would'st thou come when I cal'd thee? Beat. Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me

Bene. O stay but till then

Beat. Then, is spoken: fare you well now, and yet ere I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with knowing what hath past betweene you and Claudio

Bene. Onely foule words, and thereupon I will kisse thee

Beat. Foule words is but foule wind, and foule wind is but foule breath, and foule breath is noisome, therefore I will depart vnkist

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sence, so forcible is thy wit, but I must tell thee plainely, Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I must shortly heare from him, or I will subscribe him a coward, and I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in loue with me? Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd so politique a state of euill, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them: but for which of my good parts did you first suffer loue for me? Bene. Suffer loue! a good epithite, I do suffer loue indeede, for I loue thee against my will, Beat. In spight of your heart I think, alas poore heart, if you spight it for my sake, I will spight it for yours, for I will neuer loue that which my friend hates

Bened. Thou and I are too wise to wooe peaceablie

Bea. It appeares not in this confession, there's not one wise man among twentie that will praise himselfe

Bene. An old, an old instance Beatrice, that liu'd in the time of good neighbours, if a man doe not erect in this age his owne tombe ere he dies, hee shall liue no longer in monuments, then the Bels ring, & the Widdow weepes

Beat. And how long is that thinke you? Ben. Question, why an hower in clamour and a quarter in rhewme, therfore is it most expedient for the wise, if Don worme (his conscience) finde no impediment to the contrarie, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as I am to my selfe so much for praising my selfe, who I my selfe will beare witnesse is praise worthie, and now tell me, how doth your cosin? Beat. Verie ill

Bene. And how doe you? Beat. Verie ill too. Enter Vrsula.

Bene. Serue God, loue me, and mend, there will I leaue you too, for here comes one in haste

Vrs. Madam, you must come to your Vncle, yonders old coile at home, it is prooued my Ladie Hero hath bin falselie accusde, the Prince and Claudio mightilie abusde, and Don Iohn is the author of all, who is fled and gone: will you come presentlie? Beat. Will you go heare this newes Signior? Bene. I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eies: and moreouer, I will goe with thee to thy Vncles.

Exeunt.

Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or foure with Tapers.

Clau. Is this the monument of Leonato? Lord. It is my Lord.

Epitaph.

Done to death by slanderous tongues, Was the Hero that here lies: Death in guerdon of her wrongs, Giues her fame which neuer dies: So the life that dyed with shame, Liues in death with glorious fame. Hang thou there vpon the tombe, Praising her when I am dombe

Clau. Now musick sound & sing your solemn hymne

Song.

Pardon goddesse of the night, Those that slew thy virgin knight, For the which with songs of woe, Round about her tombe they goe: Midnight assist our mone, helpe vs to sigh and grone. Heauily, heauily. Graues yawne and yeelde your dead, Till death be vttered, Heauenly, heauenly

Lo. Now vnto thy bones good night, yeerely will I do this right

Prin. Good morrow masters, put your Torches out, The wolues haue preied, and looke, the gentle day Before the wheeles of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsie East with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leaue vs, fare you well

Clau. Good morrow masters, each his seuerall way

Prin. Come let vs hence, and put on other weedes, And then to Leonatoes we will goe

Clau. And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds, Then this for whom we rendred vp this woe.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonato, Bene. Marg. Vrsula, old man, Frier, Hero.

Frier. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Leo. So are the Prince and Claudio who accus'd her, Vpon the errour that you heard debated: But Margaret was in some fault for this, Although against her will as it appeares, In the true course of all the question

Old. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well

Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it

Leo. Well daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by your selues, And when I send for you, come hither mask'd: The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this howre To visit me, you know your office Brother, You must be father to your brothers daughter, And giue her to young Claudio.

Exeunt. Ladies.

Old. Which I will doe with confirm'd countenance

Bene. Frier, I must intreat your paines, I thinke

Frier. To doe what Signior? Bene. To binde me, or vndoe me, one of them: Signior Leonato, truth it is good Signior, Your neece regards me with an eye of fauour

Leo. That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true

Bene. And I doe with an eye of loue requite her

Leo. The sight whereof I thinke you had from me, From Claudio, and the Prince, but what's your will? Bened. Your answer sir is Enigmaticall, But for my will, my will is, your good will May stand with ours, this day to be conioyn'd, In the state of honourable marriage, In which (good Frier) I shall desire your helpe

Leon. My heart is with your liking

Frier. And my helpe. Enter Prince and Claudio, with attendants.

Prin. Good morrow to this faire assembly

Leo. Good morrow Prince, good morrow Claudio: We heere attend you, are you yet determin'd, To day to marry with my brothers daughter? Claud. Ile hold my minde were she an Ethiope

Leo. Call her forth brother, heres the Frier ready

Prin. Good morrow Benedicke, why what's the matter? That you haue such a Februarie face, So full of frost, of storme, and clowdinesse

Claud. I thinke he thinkes vpon the sauage bull: Tush, feare not man, wee'll tip thy hornes with gold, And all Europa shall reioyce at thee, As once Europa did at lusty Ioue, When he would play the noble beast in loue

Ben. Bull Ioue sir, had an amiable low, And some such strange bull leapt your fathers Cow, A got a Calfe in that same noble feat, Much like to you, for you haue iust his bleat. Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Vrsula.

Cla. For this I owe you: here comes other recknings. Which is the Lady I must seize vpon? Leo. This same is she, and I doe giue you her

Cla. Why then she's mine, sweet let me see your face

Leon. No that you shal not, till you take her hand, Before this Frier, and sweare to marry her

Clau. Giue me your hand before this holy Frier, I am your husband if you like of me

Hero. And when I liu'd I was your other wife, And when you lou'd, you were my other husband

Clau. Another Hero? Hero. Nothing certainer. One Hero died, but I doe liue, And surely as I liue, I am a maid

Prin. The former Hero, Hero that is dead

Leon. Shee died my Lord, but whiles her slander liu'd

Frier. All this amazement can I qualifie, When after that the holy rites are ended, Ile tell you largely of faire Heroes death: Meane time let wonder seeme familiar, And to the chappell let vs presently

Ben. Soft and faire Frier, which is Beatrice? Beat. I answer to that name, what is your will? Bene. Doe not you loue me? Beat. Why no, no more then reason

Bene. Why then your Vncle, and the Prince, & Claudio, haue beene deceiued, they swore you did

Beat. Doe not you loue mee? Bene. Troth no, no more then reason

Beat. Why then my Cosin Margaret and Vrsula Are much deceiu'd, for they did sweare you did

Bene. They swore you were almost sicke for me

Beat. They swore you were wel-nye dead for me

Bene. 'Tis no matter, then you doe not loue me? Beat. No truly, but in friendly recompence

Leon. Come Cosin, I am sure you loue the gentlema[n]

Clau. And Ile be sworne vpon't, that he loues her, For heres a paper written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his owne pure braine, Fashioned to Beatrice

Hero. And heeres another, Writ in my cosins hand, stolne from her pocket, Containing her affection vnto Benedicke

Bene. A miracle, here's our owne hands against our hearts: come I will haue thee, but by this light I take thee for pittie

Beat. I would not denie you, but by this good day, I yeeld vpon great perswasion, & partly to saue your life, for I was told, you were in a consumption

Leon. Peace I will stop your mouth

Prin. How dost thou Benedicke the married man? Bene. Ile tell thee what Prince: a Colledge of witte-crackers cannot flout mee out of my humour, dost thou think I care for a Satyre or an Epigram? no, if a man will be beaten with braines, a shall weare nothing handsome about him: in briefe, since I do purpose to marry, I will thinke nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it, and therefore neuer flout at me, for I haue said against it: for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion: for thy part Claudio, I did thinke to haue beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, liue vnbruis'd, and loue my cousin

Cla. I had well hop'd y wouldst haue denied Beatrice, y I might haue cudgel'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer, which out of questio[n] thou wilt be, if my Cousin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee

Bene. Come, come, we are friends, let's haue a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wiues heeles

Leon. Wee'll haue dancing afterward

Bene. First, of my word, therfore play musick. Prince, thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife, there is no staff more reuerend then one tipt with horn. Enter. Mes.

Messen. My Lord, your brother Iohn is tane in flight, And brought with armed men backe to Messina

Bene. Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuise thee braue punishments for him: strike vp Pipers.

Dance.

FINIS. Much adoe about Nothing.

Loues Labour's lost

Actus primus.

Enter Ferdinand King of Nauarre, Berowne, Longauill, and Dumane.

Ferdinand. Let Fame, that all hunt after in their liues, Liue registred vpon our brazen Tombes, And then grace vs in the disgrace of death: when spight of cormorant deuouring Time, Th' endeuour of this present breath may buy: That honour which shall bate his sythes keene edge, And make vs heyres of all eternitie. Therefore braue Conquerours, for so you are, That warre against your owne affections, And the huge Armie of the worlds desires. Our late edict shall strongly stand in force, Nauar shall be the wonder of the world. Our Court shall be a little Achademe, Still and contemplatiue in liuing Art. You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longauill, Haue sworne for three yeeres terme, to liue with me: My fellow Schollers, and to keepe those statutes That are recorded in this scedule heere. Your oathes are past, and now subscribe your names: That his owne hand may strike his honour downe, That violates the smallest branch heerein: If you are arm'd to doe, as sworne to do, Subscribe to your deepe oathes, and keepe it to

Longauill. I am resolu'd, 'tis but a three yeeres fast: The minde shall banquet, though the body pine, Fat paunches haue leane pates: and dainty bits, Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits

Dumane. My louing Lord, Dumane is mortified, The grosser manner of these worlds delights, He throwes vpon the grosse worlds baser slaues: To loue, to wealth, to pompe, I pine and die, With all these liuing in Philosophie

Berowne. I can but say their protestation ouer, So much, deare Liege, I haue already sworne, That is, to liue and study heere three yeeres. But there are other strict obseruances: As not to see a woman in that terme, Which I hope well is not enrolled there. And one day in a weeke to touch no foode: And but one meale on euery day beside: The which I hope is not enrolled there. And then to sleepe but three houres in the night, And not be seene to winke of all the day. When I was wont to thinke no harme all night, And make a darke night too of halfe the day: Which I hope well is not enrolled there. O, these are barren taskes, too hard to keepe, Not to see Ladies, study, fast, not sleepe

Ferd. Your oath is past, to passe away from these

Berow. Let me say no my Liedge, and if you please, I onely swore to study with your grace, And stay heere in your Court for three yeeres space

Longa. You swore to that Berowne, and to the rest

Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest. What is the end of study, let me know? Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not know

Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) fro[m] co[m]mon sense

Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence

Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so, To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus, to study where I well may dine, When I to fast expressely am forbid. Or studie where to meete some Mistresse fine, When Mistresses from common sense are hid. Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath, Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth. If studies gaine be thus, and this be so, Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know, Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no

Ferd. These be the stops that hinder studie quite, And traine our intellects to vaine delight

Ber. Why? all delights are vaine, and that most vaine Which with paine purchas'd, doth inherit paine, As painefully to poare vpon a Booke, To seeke the light of truth, while truth the while Doth falsely blinde the eye-sight of his looke: Light seeking light, doth light of light beguile: So ere you finde where light in darkenesse lies, Your light growes darke by losing of your eyes. Studie me how to please the eye indeede, By fixing it vpon a fairer eye, Who dazling so, that eye shall be his heed, And giue him light that it was blinded by. Studie is like the heauens glorious Sunne, That will not be deepe search'd with sawcy lookes: Small haue continuall plodders euer wonne, Saue base authoritie from others Bookes. These earthly Godfathers of heauens lights, That giue a name to euery fixed Starre, Haue no more profit of their shining nights, Then those that walke and wot not what they are. Too much to know, is to know nought but fame: And euery Godfather can giue a name

Fer. How well hee's read, to reason against reading

Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding

Lon. Hee weedes the corne, and still lets grow the weeding

Ber. The Spring is neare when greene geesse are a breeding

Dum. How followes that? Ber. Fit in his place and time

Dum. In reason nothing

Ber. Something then in rime

Ferd. Berowne is like an enuious sneaping Frost, That bites the first borne infants of the Spring

Ber. Wel, say I am, why should proud Summer boast, Before the Birds haue any cause to sing? Why should I ioy in any abortiue birth? At Christmas I no more desire a Rose, Then wish a Snow in Mayes new fangled showes: But like of each thing that in season growes. So you to studie now it is too late, That were to clymbe ore the house to vnlocke the gate

Fer. Well, sit you out: go home Berowne: adue

Ber. No my good Lord, I haue sworn to stay with you. And though I haue for barbarisme spoke more, Then for that Angell knowledge you can say, Yet confident Ile keepe what I haue sworne, And bide the pennance of each three yeares day. Giue me the paper, let me reade the same, And to the strictest decrees Ile write my name

Fer. How well this yeelding rescues thee from shame

Ber. Item. That no woman shall come within a mile of my Court. Hath this bin proclaimed? Lon. Foure dayes agoe

Ber. Let's see the penaltie. On paine of loosing her tongue. Who deuis'd this penaltie? Lon. Marry that did I

Ber. Sweete Lord, and why? Lon. To fright them hence with that dread penaltie, A dangerous law against gentilitie. Item, If any man be seene to talke with a woman within the tearme of three yeares, hee shall indure such publique shame as the rest of the Court shall possibly deuise

Ber. This Article my Liedge your selfe must breake, For well you know here comes in Embassie The French Kings daughter, with your selfe to speake: A Maide of grace and compleate maiestie, About surrender vp of Aquitaine: To her decrepit, sicke, and bed-rid Father. Therefore this Article is made in vaine, Or vainly comes th' admired Princesse hither

Fer. What say you Lords? Why, this was quite forgot

Ber. So Studie euermore is ouershot, While it doth study to haue what it would, It doth forget to doe the thing it should: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won as townes with fire, so won, so lost

Fer. We must of force dispence with this Decree, She must lye here on meere necessitie

Ber. Necessity will make vs all forsworne Three thousand times within this three yeeres space: For euery man with his affects is borne, Not by might mastred, but by speciall grace. If I breake faith, this word shall breake for me, I am forsworne on meere necessitie. So to the Lawes at large I write my name, And he that breakes them in the least degree, Stands in attainder of eternall shame. Suggestions are to others as to me: But I beleeue although I seeme so loth, I am the last that will last keepe his oth. But is there no quicke recreation granted? Fer. I that there is, our Court you know is hanted With a refined trauailer of Spaine, A man in all the worlds new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his braine: One, who the musicke of his owne vaine tongue, Doth rauish like inchanting harmonie: A man of complements whom right and wrong Haue chose as vmpire of their mutinie. This childe of fancie that Armado hight, For interim to our studies shall relate, In high-borne words the worth of many a Knight: From tawnie Spaine lost in the worlds debate. How you delight my Lords, I know not I, But I protest I loue to heare him lie, And I will vse him for my Minstrelsie

Bero. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire, new words, fashions owne Knight

Lon. Costard the swaine and he, shall be our sport, And so to studie, three yeeres is but short. Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.

Const. Which is the Dukes owne person

Ber. This fellow, What would'st? Con. I my selfe reprehend his owne person, for I am his graces Tharborough: But I would see his own person in flesh and blood

Ber. This is he

Con. Signeor Arme, Arme commends you: Ther's villanie abroad, this letter will tell you more

Clow. Sir the Contempts thereof are as touching mee

Fer. A letter from the magnificent Armado

Ber. How low soeuer the matter, I hope in God for high words

Lon. A high hope for a low heauen, God grant vs patience

Ber. To heare, or forbeare hearing

Lon. To heare meekely sir, and to laugh moderately, or to forbeare both

Ber. Well sir, be it as the stile shall giue vs cause to clime in the merrinesse

Clo. The matter is to me sir, as concerning Iaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner

Ber. In what manner? Clo. In manner and forme following sir all those three. I was seene with her in the Mannor house, sitting with her vpon the Forme, and taken following her into the Parke: which put to gether, is in manner and forme following. Now sir for the manner; It is the manner of a man to speake to a woman, for the forme in some forme