Con. All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man. But art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that 150 thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?

Bora. Not so, neither: but know that I have to-night wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress' chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good night,-I tell this tale vilely : -I should first tell thee how the prince, Claudio and my master, planted and placed and possessed by my master Don John, saw afar off in the 160 orchard this amiable encounter.

Con. And thought they Margaret was Hero?

Bora. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any slander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore 170 he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night and send her home again without a husband.

First Watch. We charge you, in the prince's name, stand!

Sec. Watch. Call up the right master constable. We have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the common- 180 wealth.

155. me, the ethical dative.

161. amiable encounter, tender meeting.

First Watch. And one Deformed is one of them: I know him; a' wears a lock.

Sec. Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.

Con. Masters,

First Watch. Never speak: we charge you let us obey you to go with us.

Bora. We are like to prove a goodly com- 190 modity, being taken up of these men's bills.

Con. A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you.

SCENE IV. HERO'S apartment.

[Exeunt.

Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA.

Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise.

Urs. I will, lady.

Hero. And bid her come hither.

Urs. Well.

[Exit.

Marg. Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. Marg. By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your cousin will say so.

Hero. My cousin's a fool, and thou art another: I'll wear none but this.

183. lock, a 'love-lock,' a long lock tied with ribbon, hanging down behind the ear.

189. obey, for 'command.' 191. taken up of these men's bills, bought up on their credit, with a play on the legal sense : 'arrested in virtue of their hal

ΙΟ

berds' (the official weapon of watchmen).

192. in question, in demand (with a similar allusion to the legal sense of question: trial at law), 'wanted.'

6. rabato, collar.

Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare fashion, i̇' faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan's gown that they praise so. Hero. O, that exceeds, they say.

Marg. By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, 20 side sleeves, and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on 't.

Hero. God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is exceeding heavy.

Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

Hero. Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

I

Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? think you would have me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' an bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend nobody: is there any harm in 'the heavier for a husband'? None, I think, an it be the right husband and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.

Enter BEATRICE.

Hero. Good morrow, coz.

Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero.

Hero. Why, how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks.

13. tire, head-dress.

30

18. nightgown,

VOL. III

Marg. Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.

Beat. Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall lack no barns.

Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn 50 that with my heels.

Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; 'tis time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!

Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H. Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's no more sailing by the star.

Beat. What means the fool, trow?

Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one 60 their heart's desire!

Hero. These gloves the count sent me; they are an excellent perfume.

Beat. I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell. Marg. A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me! God help me! how long have you professed apprehension ? Marg. Ever since you left it. wit become me rarely?

Doth not my

70

56. H, 'ache' (then pronounced, like the letter, 'atch '). Beatrice also uses 'for' in it sense of arising from.'

57. turned Turk. Beatrice has, it is insinuated, become an infidel to her professed creed of scorn for men.

68. professed apprehension set up for a wit.

Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am sick.

Marg. Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prickest her with a thistle.

Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy-thistle. You 80 may think perchance that I think you are in love; nay, by 'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love or that you will be in love or that you can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man: he swore he would never marry, and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging: and how you 90 may be converted I know not, but methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Marg. Not a false gallop.

Re-enter URSULA.

Urs. Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town, are come to fetch you to church. Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. [Exeunt.

73. Carduus Benedictus, the holy thistle, regarded in the later sixteenth century as a panacea. This herb may worthily be called Benedictus,

or Omnimorbia, that is, a salve for every sore, not known to physicians of old time' (Cogan's Haven of Health, 1589).

80. holy-thistle; cf. last note.