Pedro.

Now Signior, where's the Count? did you see him?

Bene.

Troth my lord, I have play'd the part of lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren, I told him (and I think, told him true) that your Grace had got the will of this young lady, and I offered him my company to a

willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him a rod, as being worthy to be whipt.

Pedro.

To be whipt! what's his fault?

Bene.

The flat transgression of a school-boy, who being over-joy'd with finding a bird's nest, shews it his companion, and he steals it.

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 bestowed on you, who (as I take it) have stoln his bird's nest.

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.

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 indurance 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 my self, that I was the Prince's jester, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling 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 Ponyards, and every word stabs; if her breath were as terrible as terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the North-Star; I would not marry her, though she were endowed 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 follow her.