Pedro. Hang him, truant, there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love; if he be sad, he wants mony.

Bene. I have the tooth-ach.

Pedro. Draw it.

Bene. Hang it.

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

wards.

Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach!
Leon. Which is but a humour, or a worm.

Bene. Well, every one can master a grief but he

that has it.

Claud. Yet say I, he is in love.

Pedro. "There is no appearance of fancy in him, " unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange dif" guises, as to be a Dutch man to day, a French man

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to morrow; 5 or in the shape of two countries " at once, a German from the waste downward, all " flops; and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no "doublet:" Unless he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it to appear he is.

Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing old figns; he brushes his hat o'mornings; what should that bode?

Pedro. Hath any man seen him at the barber's? Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuft tennis-balls.

Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the lofs of a beard.

Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet; can you fmell him out by that?

Claud. That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in love.

Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy.

Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face? Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear what they say of him.

Claud. Nay, but his jesting spirit, which is now crept into a lute-string and now govern'd by stops

Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him.

Conclude, he is in love..

Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him.

Pedro. That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.

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

Pedro. She shall be bury'd with her face upwards. Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Old Signior, walk aside with me, I have study'd eight or nine wife words to speak to you which these hobbyhorses must not hear. [Exeunt Benedick and Leonato. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

Claud. 'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this play'd their parts with Beatrice; and then the two bears will not bite one another, when they meet.

John. My Lord and Brother, God save you.

Pedro. Good den, brother.

John. If your leifure serv'd, I would speak with you. Pedro. In private ?

John. If it please you; yet Count Claudio may

hear; for, what I would speak of, concerns him.

Pedro. What's the matter?

John. Means your lordship to be marry'd to morrow?

Pedro. You know, he does.

[To Claudio.

John.

John. I know not that, when he knows what I know.

Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, discover it.

John. You may think, I love you not; let that appear hereafter; and aim better at me by That I now will manifeft; for my brother, I think, he holds you well, and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your enfuing marriage; furely, Suit ill spent, and Labour ill bestow'd!

Pedro. Why, what's the matter?

John. I came hither to tell you, and circumstances fhorten'd, (for she hath been too long a talking of) the Lady is disloyal.

Claud. Who? Hero?

John. Even the; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.

Claud. Difloyal?

John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could fay, the were worse; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it; wonder not 'till further warrant; go but with me to night, you shall fee her chamber-window enter'd, even the night before her wedding day; if you love her, then to morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind.

Claud. May this be fo?

Pedro. I will not think it.

John. If you dare not trust that you fee, confefs not that you know; if you will follow me, I will shew you enough; and when you have feen more and heard more, proceed accordingly.

Claud. If I see any thing to night why I should not marry her to morrow; in the Congregation, where I should wed, there will I shame her.

Pedro. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I

will join with thee to disgrace her.

John.

John. I will disparage her no farther, 'till you are my witnesses; bear it coldly but 'till night, and let the ifsfue shew itself.

Pedro. O day untowardly turned!

Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting!

John. O plague right well prevented!

So you will fay, when you have seen the sequel.

i.

[Exeunt.

:

Enter Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch.

Dogb. A

RE you good men and true?

Verg. Yea, or elfe it were pity but they

should fuffer salvation, body and foul.

Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chofen for the Prince's Watch.

Verg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.

Dogb. First, who think you the most desartless man to be conftable?

I Watch. Hugh Oatecake, Sir, or George Seacole; for they can write and read.

Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacole: God hath bleft you with a good name; and to be a wellfavour'd man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature.

2 Watch. Both which, master constable

Dogb. You have: I knew, it would be your answer. Well, for your Favour, Sir, why, give God thanks, and make no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is more need of fuch vanity: you are thought here to 6 no need of such wanity:] Dogberry is only absurd, not abfolutely out of his senses. We should read therefore, MORE need.

6

be

be the most senseless and fit man for the Conftable of the Watch, therefore bear you the lanthorn; this is your charge: you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are to bid any man stand, in the Prince's name. 2 Watch. How if he 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 thank God you are rid of a knave.

Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the Prince's Subjects.

Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none but the Prince's Subjects: you shall also make no noise in the streets; for, for the Watch to babble and talk, is most tolerable, and not to be endur'd.

2 Watch. "We will rather fleep than talk; we " know what belongs to a Watch.

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Dogb. "Why, you speak like an ancient and most

quiet watchman, for I cannot see how Sleeping " should offend; only have a care that your Bills be " not stolen: well, you are to call at all the ale" houses, and bid them that are drunk get them " to bed."

2 Watch. How if they will not?

Dogb. Why then let them alone 'till they are sober; if they make you not then the better answer, you may fay, they are not the men you took them for.

2. Watch. Well, Sir.

Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him by vertue of your office to be no true man; and for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honesty.

2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we 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 do take a thief, is, to let