Leonato.
Pedro.
I do but stay 'till your marriage be consummate,
and then go I toward Arragon.
Claud.
I'll bring you thither my lord, if you'll
vouchsafe me.
Pedro.
Nay, That would be as great a soil in the
new gloss of your marriage, as to shew 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 soale of his foot, he is all
mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string,
-- 441 --
and the little hangman dare 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 is in love.
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 afterwards.
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 disguises,
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 waste downward, all slops, 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 signs; 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
loss of a beard.
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.
-- 442 --
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 heels upwards.(14) note
Bene.
Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Old
Signior, walk aside with me, I have study'd eight or
nine wise words to speak to you which these hobby-horses
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.
-- 443 --
Enter Don John.
John.
My Lord and brother, God save you.
Pedro.
Good den, brother.
John.
If your leisure 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?
[To Claudio.
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, discover
it.
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 holds you
well, and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect your
ensuing marriage; surely, Suit ill spent, and Labour ill
bestow'd!
Pedro.
Why, what's the matter?
John.
I came hither to tell you, and circumstances
shorten'd, (for she hath been too long a talking of)
the Lady is disloyal.
Claud.
Who? Hero?
John.
Even she, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every
man's Hero.
Claud.
Disloyal?
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 to night, you shall
see 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 so?
Pedro.
I will not think it.—
-- 444 --
John.
If you dare not trust that you see, confess not
that you know; if you will follow me, I will shew you
enough; and when you have seen 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.
I will disparage her no farther, 'till you are my
witnesses; bear it coldly but 'till night, and let the
issue shew it self.
Pedro.
O day untowardly turned!
Claud.
O mischief strangely thwarting!
John.
O plague right well prevented!
So will you say, when you have seen the sequel.
[Exeunt.
Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
