glofs of your marriage, as to fhew 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 foale of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-ftring, and the little hangman dare not fhoot at him; he hath a heart as found as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue fpeaks. Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been. Leon. So fay I; methinks, you are fadder. Pedro. Hang him, truant, there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love; if he be fad, he wants mony. Bene. I have the tooth-ach. Pedro. Draw it. Bene. Hang it. Claud. You must hang it firft, and draw it afterwards. Pedro. What? figh for the tooth-ach! Leon. Which is but a humour, or a worm. Bene. Well, every one can mafter a grief but he that has it. Claud. Yet fay I, he is in love. Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unlefs it be a fancy that he hath to ftrange difguifes, as to be a Dutch man to day, a French man to morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, a German from the wafte 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 fome woman, there is no believing old figns; he brushes his hat o'mornings; what fhould 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 ftuft tennis-balls. Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the lofs of a beard. Pedro. Pedro. Nay, he rubs himfelf with civet; can you fmell him out by that? Claud. That's as much as to fay, the fweet 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 fay of him. Claud. Nay, but his jefting fpirit, which is now crept into a lute-ftring and now govern'd by ftops 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 defpight of all, dies for him. Old Pedro. She fhall be bury'd with her heels upwards. (11) Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Signior, walk afide with me, I have ftudy'd eight or nine wife words to fpeak to you which thefe hobbyhorfes must not hear. [Exeunt Benedick and Leonato. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice. Claud. 'Tis even fo. 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. Enter Don John. John. My Lord and Brother, God fave you. John. If your leifure ferv'd, I would speak with you. (11) She shall be buried with her Face upwards.] Thus the whole Set of Editions: But what is there any ways particular in This? Are not all Men and Women buried fo? Sure, the Poet means, in Oppofition to the general Rule, and by way of Diftinction, with her heels upwards, or face downwards. I have chose the firft Reading, because I find it the Expreffion in Vogue in our Author's time. John. John. If it pleafe 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 mor[To Claudio. row? Pedro. You know, he does. John. I know not that, when he knows what I know. Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, dif cover 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 dearnefs 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 circumftances. fhorten'd, (for fhe hath been too long a talking of) the Lady is difloyal. Claud. Who? Hero? John. Even fhe; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every. man's Hero. Claud. Difloyal? John. The word is too good to paint out her wickednefs; I could fay, fhe were worfe; 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 truft that you fee, confefs not that you know; if you will follow me, I will fhew you enough; and when you have feen more and heard more, proceed accordingly. Claud. If I fee any thing to night why I fhould not marry her to morrow; in the Congregation, where I fhould wed, there will I shame her. Pedro, Pedro. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to difgrace her. John. I will difparage het no farther, 'till you are my witneffes; bear it coldly but 'till night, and let the iffue fhew it self. Pedro. O day untowardly turned ! Claud. O mifchief ftrangely thwarting! you will fay, when you have seen the fequel. SCENE changes to the Street. [Exeunt. Enter Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch. Dogb. AR Verg. Yea, or elfe it were pity but they fhould fuffer falvation, body and foul. Dogb. Nay, that were a punifhment too good for them, if they fhould 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? 1 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 well-favour'd man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature. 2 Watch. Both which, mafter conftable Dogb. You have: I knew, it would be your answer. Well, for your Favour, Sir, why, give God thanks, and make no boaft of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of fuch vanity: you are thought here to 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 ftand, in the Prince's name. 2 Watch. 2 Watch. How if he will not stand? Dogb. Why, then take no note of him, but let go; and prefently call the reft of the Watch toge and thank God you are rid of a knave. Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, none of the Prince's Subjects. Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none the Prince's Subjects: you fhall alfo make no noi the streets; for, for the Watch to babble and tall moft tolerable, and not to be endur’d. 2 Watch. We will rather fleep than talk; we k what belongs to a Watch. Dogb. Why, you speak like an ancient and quiet watchman, for I cannot fee how Sleeping fh offend; only have a care that your Bills be not fto well, you are to call at all the ale-houfes, and bid t that are drunk get them to bed. 2. Watch. How if they will not? Dogb. Why then let them alone 'till they are fob if they make you not then the better anfwer, you n fay, they are not the men you took them for. 2 Watch. Well, Sir. Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may fufpect him vertue of your office to be no true man; and for fu kind of men, the less you meddle or make with the why, the more is for your honefty. 2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, fhall we lay hands on him? Dogb. Truly, by your office you may; but, I thin they that touch pitch will be defil'd: the moft pea able way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let hi fhew himself what he is, and fteal out of your cor pany. Verg. You have been always call'd a merciful ma Partner. Dogb. Truly, I would not hang a dog by my wil much more a man who hath any honefty in him. Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you mu |