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 dream'd of unhappiness, and wak'd her self with laughing.

Pedro.

She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

Leon.

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

Pedro.

She were an excellent wife for Benedick.

Leon.

O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd they would talk themselves mad.

Pedro.

Count 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 seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind.

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's labours, which is to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other; I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not 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.

Pedro.

And you too, gentle Hero?

Hero.

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

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 valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your two helps, will so practise on Benedick, that in despight of his quick wit, and his queasie stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice: if we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer, his glory shall be ours, for we are the only Love-Gods; go in with me, and I will tell you my drift.