LITMIR.BIZ

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of a schoolboy, who being overjoy’d with finding a bird’s nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it.

      D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer.

      Bene. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the garland too, for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have bestow’d on you, who (as I take it) have stol’n his bird’s nest.

      D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner.

      Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say honestly.

      D. Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The gentleman that danc’d with her told her she is much wrong’d by you.

      Bene. O, she misus’d me past the endurance of a block; an oak but with one green leaf on it would have answer’d her. My very visor began to assume life, and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince’s jester, that I was duller than a great thaw, huddling jest upon jest with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endow’d with all that Adam had left him before he transgress’d. She would have made Hercules have turn’d spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her; you shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary, and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follows her.

       Enter Claudio and Beatrice, [Leonato and Hero].

      D. Pedro. Look here she comes.

      Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world’s end? I will go on the slightest arrand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of Prester John’s foot, fetch you a hair off the great Cham’s beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words’ conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me?

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

      Bene. O God, sir, here’s a dish I love not, I cannot endure my Lady Tongue.

       Exit.

      D. Pedro. Come, lady, come, you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick.

      Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your Grace may well say I have lost it.

      D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.

      Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.

      D. Pedro. Why, how now, Count, wherefore are you sad?

      Claud. Not sad, my lord.

      D. Pedro. How then? sick?

      Claud. Neither, my lord.

      Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion.

      D. Pedro. I’ faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true, though I’ll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have woo’d in thy name, and fair Hero is won. I have broke with her father, and his good will obtain’d. Name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy!

      Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His Grace hath made the match, and all grace say amen to it.

      Beat. Speak, Count, ’tis your cue.

      Claud. Silence is the perfectest heralt of joy; I were but little happy, if I could say how much! Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange.

      Beat. Speak, cousin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

      D. Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.

      Beat. Yea, my lord, I thank it—poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.

      Claud. And so she doth, cousin.

      Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt. I may sit in a corner and cry “Heigh-ho for a husband!”

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

      Beat. I would rather have one of your father’s getting. Hath your Grace ne’er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

      D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady?

      Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days. Your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But I beseech your Grace pardon me, I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.

      D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you, for out a’ question, you were born in a merry hour.

      Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried, but then there was a star danc’d, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy!

      Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?

      Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle. By your Grace’s pardon.

       Exit Beatrice.

      D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.

      Leon. There’s little of the melancholy element in her, my lord. She is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and wak’d herself with laughing.

      D. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

      Leon. O, by no means, she mocks all her wooers out of suit.

      D. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

      Leon. O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.

      D. Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?

      Claud. To-morrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.

      Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just sevennight, and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

      D. Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing, but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules’ labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection th’ one with th’ other. I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction.

      Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights’ watchings.

      Claud. And I, my lord.

      D. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?

      Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband.

      D. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him: he is of a noble strain, of approv’d valor, and confirm’d honesty. I will teach you how to humor your cousin, that she shall

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