loverick these eyes? I will hide me in the arbour. Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO. D. Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music? Claud. Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony! D. Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Claud. O, very well, my lord: the music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth. Enter BALTHASAR with Music. D. Pedro. Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency 30 40 50 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 wooes, Yet will he swear he loves. D. Pedro. Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Now, pray thee, come; Note this before my notes; Balth. There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting, D. Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks; Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing. [Air. Bene. Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! 60 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. The Song. Balth. Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, One foot in sea and one on shore, And be you blithe and bonny, D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. 58. crotchets, whimsies (with a quibble). 59. nothing; a pun is intended on 'noting.' 71. Hey nonny, nonny, the refrain of various (mostly light and sportive) songs. 73. dumps, melancholy. Balth. And an ill singer, my lord. D. Pedro. Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. if. Bene. An he had been a dog that should have I howled thus, they would have hanged him: and D. Pedro. Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window. Balth. The best I can, my lord. D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exit Balthasar.] Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? Claud. O, ay: stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man. 80 90 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 100 abhor. Bene. Is 't possible? Sits the wind in that corner? 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 was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of 110 passion as she discovers it. 84. the night-raven, whose cry was bodeful. 106. infinite, infinitude, boundless reach. D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she? Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. 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. I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up. 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 I 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. 120 130. Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I 140 remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. Leon. O, when she had writ it and was reading over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet? it Leon. O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; 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; yea, 150 though I love him, I should.' Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, 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 ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard she will do a desperate outrage to herself: it is very true. D. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of 160 it by some other, if she will not discover it. Claud. To what end? He would make but a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse. D. Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. Claud. And she is exceeding wise. D. Pedro. In every thing but in loving Benedick. Leon. O, my lord, wisdom and blood com- 170 bating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. D. Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would have daffed all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what a' will say. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks surely she will die; for 180 she says she will die, if he love her not, and she 157. ecstasy, madness. 176. daffed, doffed, set aside. |