618Bene. Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady

619Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a

620Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your

621grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered

622him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a

623garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as be-

624ing worthy to be whipt.

625Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault?

626Bene. The flat transgression of a Schoole-boy, who

627being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his

628companion, and he steales it.

629Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust, a transgression? the

630transgression is in the stealer.

631Ben. Yet it had not beene amisse the rod had beene

632made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue

633worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on

634you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest.

635Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them

636to the owner.

637Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith

638you say honestly.

639Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the

640Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much

641wrong'd by you.

642Bene. O she misusde me past the indurance of a block:

643an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue an-

644swered her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold

645with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my

646selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller

647then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such im-

648possible conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a

649marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes

650poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were

651as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere

652her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not

653marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam

654had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made

655Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to

656make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde

657her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God

658some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she

659is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary,

660and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe

661thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation

662followes her.

664Pedro. Looke heere she comes.

665Bene. Will your Grace command mee any seruice to

666the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now

667to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I

668will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch

669of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch

670you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any em-

671bassage to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words

672conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment

673for me?

674Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.

675Bene. O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot in-

676dure this Lady tongue. Exit.

677Pedr. Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of

678Signior Benedicke.

679Beatr. Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I

680gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry

681once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore

682your Grace may well say I haue lost it.

683Pedro. You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put

684him downe.

685Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest

686I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought

687Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke.

688Pedro. Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad?

689Claud. Not sad my Lord.

690Pedro. How then? sicke?

691Claud. Neither, my Lord.

692Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry,

693nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and some-

694thing of a iealous complexion.

695Pedro. Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true,

696though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false:

697heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero

698is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will

699obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue

700thee ioy.

701Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her

702my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace

703say, Amen to it.

704Beatr. Speake Count, tis your Qu.

705Claud. Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were

706but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you

707are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and

708doat vpon the exchange.

709Beat. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth

710with a kisse, and let not him speake neither.

711Pedro. In faith Lady you haue a merry heart.

712Beatr. Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes

713on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare

714that he is in my heart.

715Clau. And so she doth coosin.

716Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one

717to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a cor-

718ner and cry, heigh ho for a husband.

719Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

720Beat. I would rather haue one of your fathers getting:

721hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father

722got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

723Prince. Will you haue me? Lady.

724Beat. No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for

725working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie

726day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne

727to speake all mirth, and no matter.

728Prince. Your silence most offends me, and to be mer-

729ry, best becomes you, for out of question, you were born

730in a merry howre.

731Beatr. No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then

732there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: co-

733sins God giue you ioy.

734Leonato. Neece, will you looke to those rhings I told

735you of?

736Beat. I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

738Prince. By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady.

739Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her

740my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not

741euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath

742often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with

743laughing.

744Pedro. Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband.

745Leonato. O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers

746out of suite.

747Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

748Leonato. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke