Scene III
Leonato’s orchard.
Enter Benedick. | |
Benedick | Boy! |
Enter Boy. | |
Boy | Signior? |
Benedick | In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither to me in the orchard. |
Boy | I am here already, sir. |
Benedick | I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. Exit Boy. I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love: and such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now is he turned orthography; his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but I’ll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that’s certain; wise, or I’ll none; virtuous, or I’ll never cheapen her; fair, or I’ll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour. Withdraws. |
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato. | |
Don Pedro | Come, shall we hear this music? |
Claudio |
Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, |
Don Pedro | See you where Benedick hath hid himself? |
Claudio |
O, very well, my lord: the music ended, |
Enter Balthasar with Music. | |
Don Pedro | Come, Balthasar, we’ll hear that song again. |
Balthasar |
O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice |
Don Pedro |
It is the witness still of excellency |
Balthasar |
Because you talk of wooing, I will sing; |
Don Pedro |
Now, pray thee, come; |
Balthasar |
Note this before my notes; |
Don Pedro |
Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks; |
Benedick | Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it not strange that sheeps’ guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all’s done. |
The Song. | |
Balthasar |
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, |
Don Pedro | By my troth, a good song. |
Balthasar | And an ill singer, my lord. |
Don Pedro | Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. |
Benedick | An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have hanged him: and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. |
Don Pedro | Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for tomorrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero’s chamber-window. |
Balthasar | The best I can, my lord. |
Don Pedro | Do so: farewell. Exit Balthasar. Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick? |
Claudio | O, ay: stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man. |
Leonato | 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 abhor. |
Benedick | Is’t possible? Sits the |