Conr. Is it poffible that any villainy fhould be fo dear?

Bora. Thou fhould'ft rather ask if it were poffible any villainy should be fo rich? for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will. Conr. I wonder at it.

Bora. That fhews thou art unconfirm'd; thou knoweft that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak is nothing to a man. ·

Conr. Yes, it is apparel.

Bora. I mean the fashion.

Conr. Yes, the fashion is the fashion,

Bora. Tufh, I may as well fay the fool's the fool; but feest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion is?

Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven years; he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name.

Bora. Didft thou not hear fome body?

Conr. No, 'twas the vane on the house.

Bora. Seeft thou not, I fay, what a deformed thief this fashion is, how giddily he turns about all the hot-bloods between fourteen and five and thirty, fometimes fashioning them like Pharao's foldiers in the reechy painting, fometimes like the God Bel's priests in the old church-window, fometimes like the fhaven Herculesa in the fmirch'd worm-caten tapestry, where his codpiece feems as maffie as his club?

Conr. All this I fee, and fee that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man; but art not thou thy felf giddy with the fashion, that thou haft fhifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?

Bora. Not fo neither; but know that I have to-night wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero; fhe leans me out at her miftrefs's chamberwindow, bids me a thousand times good night I tell this tale vilely I fhould firft tell thee how the Prince, Claudio, and my mafter planted and plac'd, and poffeffed

6

poffeffed by my master Don John, faw far off in the orchard this amiable encounter.

Conr. And thought thy Margaret was Hero?

Bora. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, but the devil my mafter knew fhe was Margaret; and partly by his oaths which firft poffeft them, partly by the dark night which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any flander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged, fwore he would meet her as he was appointed next morning at the temple, and there before the whole congregation fhame her with what he faw o'er night, and fend her home again without a husband.

I Watch. We charge you in the Prince's name ftand.

2 Watch. Call up the right mafter conftable, we have here recovered the moft dangerous piece of lechery that eyer was known in the common-wealth.

I Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock,

Conr. Masters, masters,

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

Conr. Mafters,

I Watch. Never fpeak, we charge you, let us obey you to go with us.

Bora. We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of these mens bills.

Conr. A commodity in queftion, I warrant you: come, we'll obey you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

Enter Hero, Margaret and Urfula,

Hero.GOOD Urfula, wake my coufin Beatrice, and

defire her to rise.

Urf. I will, Lady.

Hero. And bid her come hither.
Urf. 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, it's not fo good, and I warrant your coufin will fay fo.

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

Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare fashion, i' faith. I faw the Dutchefs of Milan's gown that they praise so.

Hero. Ô, that exceeds, they fay.

Marg. By my troth, it's but a night-gown in refpect of yours; cloth of gold and cuts, and lac'd with filver, fet with pearls down-fleeves, fide-fleeves, and skirts round, underborn with a bleuifh tinfel; but for a fine, queint, 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 foon by the weight of a man. Hero. Fie upon thee, art not afham'd?

Marg. Of what, Lady? of fpeaking honourably? is not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your Lord honourable without marriage? I think you would have me fay (faving your reverence) a husband. If bad thinking do not wreft true fpeaking, I'll offend no body; is there any harm in the heavier for a husband? none I

think,

think, if it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwife 'tis light and not heavy; ask my Lady Beatrice elfe, here fhe comes.

SCENE VII.

Enter Beatrice.

Hero. Good morrow, coz,

Beat. Good morrow, fweet Hero.

Hero. Why, how now? do you speak in the fick tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. Marg. Clap us into Light o' love; that goes without a burden; do you fing it, and I'll dance it.

Beat. Yes, Light o' love with your heels; then if then if your husband have stables enough, you'll look he shall lack no barns.

Marg. O illegitimate conftruction! I fcorn that with my heels.

Beat. 'Tis almost five a clock, coufin; 'tis time you were ready by my troth, I am exceeding ill; hey ho! Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H.

Marg, Well, if you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more failing by the star.

Beat. What means the fool, trow?

Marg. Nothing I, but God fend every one their heart's defire!

Hero. Thefe gloves the Count fent me, they are an excellent perfume.

Beat. I am stuft, coufin, I cannot smell.

Marg. A maid and ftuft! there's a goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profeft apprehenfion?

Marg. Ever fince you left it; doth not my wit become me rarely?

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

Merg

Marg. Get you fome of this diftill'd Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prick'ft her with a thistle.

Beat. Benedictus? why Benedictus? you have fome moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy-thittle; you may think perchance that I think you are in love; nay, birlady, I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift; nor I lift not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think, if I would. think my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Benedick was fuch another, and now is he become a man; he swore he would never marry, and yet now in defpight of his heart he eats his meat without grudging; and how you 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 falfe gallop.

Enter Urfula.

Urf. 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 drefs me, good coz, good Meg, good [Exeunt.

Urfula.

Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.

Leon. WHAT would you with me, honeft neighbour? Dogb. Marry, Sir, I would have fome confidence with you that decerns you nearly.

Leon, Brief, I pray you, for you fee 'tis a busy time

with me.

Dagb.