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transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath Bene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog, that on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall should have howled thus, they would have hanged never make me such a fool. One woman is fair; him and I pray God, his bad voice bode no misyet I am well: another is wise; yet I am well: chief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, another virtuous; yet I am well: but till all graces come what plague could have come after it. be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my D. Pedro. Yea, marry; [To Claudio.]-Dost grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us some I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, excellent music; for to-morrow night we would or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near have it at the lady Hero's chamber-window. me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good dis- Balth. The best I can, my lord. course, an excellent musician, and her hair shall D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt Balthazar be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and music.] Come hither, Leonato: What was it and monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice [Withdraws. was in love with signior Benedick?

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Claud. O, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox' with a penny-worth.

Enter Balthazar, with music.

D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again.

Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
To slander music any more than once.

D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency,
To put a strange face on his own perfection:-
I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.

Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing;
Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
To her he thinks not worthy; yet he woos;
Yet will he swear, he loves.

D. Pedro.

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

Balth.

Note this before my notes, There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. D. Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks;

Note, note, forsooth, and noting!

[Music. Bene. Now, Divine air! now is his soul ravished!-Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies?-Well, a horn for my money, when all's done.

Balthazar sings.
I.

Balth. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in sea, and one on shore;
To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blith and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of wo
Into, Hey nonny, nonny.
II.

Sing no more dillies, sing no mo'2
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so, &c.

D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song.
Ballh. And an ill singer, my lord.

Claud. O, ay::-Stalk on, stalk on i the fowl sits. [Aside to Pedro.] I did never think that lady would have loved any man.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.

Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?

[Aside.

Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affection,-it is past the infinite of thought.' D. Pedro. May be, she doth but counterfeit. Claud. 'Faith, like enough.

Leon. O God! counterfeit! There never was counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she discovers it.

D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she?
Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.

[Aside.
Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you,-
You heard my daughter tell you how.
Claud. She did indeed.

D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze me: I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.

Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially against Benedick.

Bene. [Aside.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence.

Claud. He hath ta'en the infection; hold it up. [Aside D. Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick? Leon. No; and swears she never will: that's her torment.

Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: Shall I, says she, that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that love him?

Leon. This says she now when she is beginning to write to him: for she'll be up twenty times a night; and there will she sit in her smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper :-my daughter tells us all.

Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.

Leon. O-When she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?

Claud. That,

Leon. O she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her: I measure him, says she, by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yeu,

D. Pedro. Ha? no; no, faith; thou singest well though I love him, I should. enough for a shift.

Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls,

(1) Young or cub-fox.

(2) Longer.

(3) Beyond the power of thought to conceive.

a

D. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. Claud. To what end? He would make but sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse. D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms hang him: she's an excellent sweet lady; and, of all suspicion, she is virtuous.

Benedick advances from above.
Bene. This can be no trick: the conference was

weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses:-O sweet Benedick! God give me patience! Leon. She doth, indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstasy1 hath so much overborne her, that sadly borne. They have the truth of this from my daughter is sometimes afraid she will do a des-Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me! why, it perate outrage to herself; It is very true. must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the rather die than give' any sign of affection.-I did love come from her; they say too, that she will never think to marry:-I must not seem proud Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending. They say, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness: and vir D. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. for loving me :-By my troth, it is no addition to her tuous;-'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that wit; nor no great argument of her folly, for I will blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have be horribly in love with her.-I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on just cause, being her uncle and her guardian.

Claud. And she is exceeding wise.

to

out

:

D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage me, because I have railed so long against marriage:-But doth not the appetite alter? A man on me; I would have daff'd all other respects, and loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure made her half myself: I pray you, tell Benedick in his age: shall quips, and sentences, and these of it, and hear what he will say. paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the ca

Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks surely, she will die: for she reer of his humour? No: the world must be peopled. says, she will die if he love her not; and she will die ere she makes her love known; and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will 'bate one breath of her accustomed crossness.

D. Pedro. She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible3 spirit. Claud. He is a very proper man.

D. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness.

Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. D. Pedro. He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit.

Leon. And I take him to be valiant.

When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.─Here comes Beatrice: By this day, she's a fair lady; I do spy some marks of love in her.

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Bene. You take pleasure in the message? Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choke a daw withal:-You have no stomach, signior: fare you well.

[Exit.

D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or un- Bene. Ha! Against my will I am sent to bid dertakes them with a most Christian-like fear. you come to dinner-there's a double meaning in Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily that. I took no more pains for those thanks, than keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to you took pains to thank me-that's as much as to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy as D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth thanks:-If I do not take pity of her, I am a vilfear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some lain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for get her picture. your niece: shall we go see Benedick, and tell

him of her love?

Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it

out with good counsel.

[Exit.

ACT III.

Enter Hero,

Margaret and Ursula.

Leon. Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her SCENE I.-Leonato's Garden.

heart out first.

D. Pedro. Well, we'll hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour : well; and I could wish he would modestly examine There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a Proposing with the prince and Claudio: lady. Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us; never trust my expectation." Aside. And bid her steal into the pleached bower, D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun, her; and that must your daughter and her gentle- Forbid the sun to enter;-like favourites, woman carry. The sport will be, when they hold Made proud by princes, that advance their pride one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such Against that power that bred it :-there will she matter; that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her to To listen our propose: this is thy office, [Aside. Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. [Exeunt Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato. Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. [Exil.

call him in to dinner.

(1) Alienation of mind. 3) Contemptuons.

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Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, It were a better death than die with mocks;

As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick:
When I do name him, let it be thy part

To praise him more than ever man did merit :
My talk to thee must be, how Benedick

Is sick in love with Beatrice: of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin;

Enter Beatrice, behind.

For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.

Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait:"
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture:
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing

Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it-
[They advance to the bower.
No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
I know, her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggards of the rock.'

Urs.
But are you sure,
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
Hero. So says the prince, and my new-trothed
lord.

Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? Hero. They did entreat me to acquaint her of it: But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection,

And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.
Hero. No; rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel him to fight against his passion:
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with: one doth not know,
How much an ill word may empoison liking.

Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
She cannot be so much without true judgment
(Having so swift and excellent a wit,
As she is priz'd to have,) as to refuse
So rare a gentleman as signior Benedick.
Hero. He is the only man in Italy,
Always excepted my dear Claudio.

Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,
Speaking my fancy; signior Benedick,
For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. Urs. His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.When are you married, madam?

Hero. Why, every day;-to-morrow: come, go in;

I'll show thee some attires; and have thy counsel,
Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
Urs. She's lim'd, I warrant you; we have
caught her, madam.

Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. [Exeunt Hero and Ursula.

Beatrice advances.

Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?

Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!

Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed,

As ever Beatrice shall couch upon

Hero. god of love! I know, he doth deserve
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But nature never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice :
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her

All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.

Urs.
Sure, I think so;
And therefore, certainly, it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-fac'd,
She'd swear, the gentleman should be her sister;
If black, why, nature, drawing of an antic,
Made a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agate very vilely cut:

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds:
If silent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Hero. No: not to be so odd, and from all fashions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable:
But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly :

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No glory lives behind the back of such. And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee; Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand; If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee To bind our loves up in a holy band: For others say, thou dost deserve; and I Believe it better than reportingly.

SCENE II.-A room in Leonato's house.

[Exit.

Enter

Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.

.D. Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then I go toward Arragon. Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me.

D. Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage, as to show a child his new coat, and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring, and the little hangman dares not shoot at him: he hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks.

Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been.
Leon. So say I; methinks, you are sadder.
Claud. I hope, he be in love.

D. 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 money.

Bene. I have the tooth-ach.

D. Pedro. Draw it.

Bene. Hang it!

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

D. Pedro. What? sigh for the tooth-ach?

(5) Ensnar'd with birdlime.

Leon. Where 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.

holds you well; and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your ensuing marriage: surely, suit ill spent, and labour ill bestowed!

D. Pedro. Why, what's the matter?

D. Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in D. John. I came hither to tell you; and, cirhim, unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange dis- cumstances shortened, (for she hath been too long guises; as, to be a Dutchman to-day; a Frenchinan a talking of,) the lady is disloyal. to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at Claud. Who? Hero? once, as a German from the waist downward, all slop; 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 appear he is.

:

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

D. Pedro. Hath any man scen 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 stuffed tennis-balls.

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

D. Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet: can you smell him out by that?

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

D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero. Claud. Disloyal?

D. John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant: go but with me tonight, you shall see her chamber-window entered; 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 so?

D. Pedro. I will not think it.

D. John. If you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you know: if you will follow me, I will show you enough; and when you have seen more, and heard more, proceed accordingly.

Claud. If I see any thing to-night why I should

D. Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melan-not marry her to-morrow; in the congregation, choly.

Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face? D. 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 lut string, and now governed by stops. D. Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: conclude, conclude, he is in love.

Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him. D. Pedro. That would I know too; I warrant, one that knows him not.

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

D. Pedre. She shall be buried with her face upwards.

Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach.Old signior, walk aside with me: I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you, which these hobby-horses must not hear.

[Exeunt Benedick and Leonato. D. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

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

Enter Don John.

D. John. My lord and brother, God save you.
D. Pedro. Good den, brother.

D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak with you.

D. Pedro. In private ?

D. John. If it please you;-yet count Claudio may hear; for what I would speak of concerns him. D. Pedro. What's the matter?

where I should wed, there will I shame her.

D. Pedro. And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to disgrace her.

D. John. I will disparage her no farther, till you are my witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the issue show itself.

D. Pedro. O day untowardly turned !
Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting!
D. John. O plague right well prevented!
So will you say, when you have seen the sequel.

SCENE III-A street.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch.

Dogb. Are you good men and true? Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation, body and soul.

Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch.

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

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

1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Scacoal; for they can write and read.

God

Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. hath blessed you with a good name: to be a wellfavoured 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 D. John. Means your lordship to be married to-no need of such vanity. You are thought here to morrow? [To Claudio. be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern: this is your charge; you shall comprehend all vagrom men: you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.

D. Pedro. You know he does.

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

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

D. John. You may think I love you not; let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifest: for my brother, I think, he (1) Large loose breeches.

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 now forward with thy tale.

but the prince's subjects:-you shall also make no Bora. Stand thee close then under this penthouse, noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble and for it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard, talk, is most tolerable, and not to be endured. utter all to thee. 2 Watch. We will rather sleep than talk; we know what belongs to a watch.

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 alehouses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. 2 Watch. How if they will not?

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Watch. [Aside.] Some treason, masters; yet stand close.

Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.

Con. Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?

Bora. Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possible any villany should be so rich; for when such Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are so-villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may ber; if they make you not then the better answer, make what price they will. you may say, they are not the men you took them for. 2 Watch. Well, sir.

Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue 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 defiled: the most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is, and steal out

your company.

Verg. You have been always called a merciful man, partner.

Dogb. Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will; much more a man who hath any honesty in him. Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call to the nurse, and bid her still it.

2 Watch. How if the nurse be asleep, and will not hear us?

Dogb. Why then, depart in peace, and let the child wake her with crying; for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes, will never answer a calf when he bleats.

Verg. 'Tis very true.

Con. I wonder at it.

Bora. That shows thou art unconfirmed; thou knowest, that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or cloak, is nothing to a man.

a

Con. Yes, it is apparel.

Bora. I mean the fashion.

Con. Yes, the fashion is the fashion.

Bora. Tush! I may as well say, the fool's the fool. But seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is?

Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven year; he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name.

Bora. Didst thou not hear somebody?

Con. No; 'twas the vane on the house. Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods, between fourteen and five and thirty? sometime, fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers in the reechy painting; sometime, like god Bel's priests in the old church window; sometime, like the shaven Hercules in the smirched wormeaten tapestry, where his cod-piece seems as massy as his club?

Con. All this I see; and see, that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man: but art not Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, con- thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou stable, are to present the prince's own person; if hast shifted out of thy tale to tell me of the you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him. fashion? Verg. Nay, by'r lady, that I think he cannot.

Bora. Not so neither: but know, that I have toDogb. Five shillings to one on't, with any man night wooed Margaret, the lady Hero's gentlewothat knows the statues, he may stay him: marry, man, by the name of Hero: she leans me out at not without the prince be willing: for, indeed, the her mistress' chamber-window, bids me a thousand watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offence times good night,-I tell this tale vilely:-I should to stay a man against his will.'

Verg. By'r lady, I think, it be so.

Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your fellows' counsels and your own, and good night.-Come, neighbour.

2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.

first tell thee, how the prince, Claudio, and my master, planted and placed, and possessed by my master Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter.

Con. And thought they, Margaret was Hero? Bora. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, Dogb. One word more, honest neighbours: I but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any pray you, watch about signior Leonato's door; for slander that Don John had made, away went Clauthe wedding being there to-morrow, there is a great coil to-night: adieu, be vigilant, I beseech you. [Exeunt Dogberry and Verges.

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dio enraged: swore he would meet her as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw over-night, and send her home again without a husband.

1 Watch. We charge you in the prince's name, [Aside. stand.

Bora. Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought there would a scab follow.

Con. I will owe thee an answer for that; and

(1) Weapons of the watchmen.

the world.

2 Watch. Call up the right master constable: we have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth.

1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock.

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