Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all that
Adam had left him before he transgress'd. She would have made

Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make
the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the

infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would
conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as

quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose,
because they would go hither" target="_blank" title="ad.到那里 a.那边的">thither; so indeed all disquiet, horror,

and perturbation follows her.
Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

Pedro. Look, here she comes.
Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's end? I

will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can
devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the

furthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's
foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any

embassage to the Pygmies--rather than hold three words'
conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me?

Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.
Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not! I cannot endure my Lady

Tongue. [Exit.]
Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior

Benedick.
Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gave him use for

it--a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he won
it of me with false dice; therefore your Grace may well say I

have lost it.
Pedro. You have put him down, lady; you have put him down.

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove
the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent

me to seek.
Pedro. Why, how now, Count? Wherefore are you sad?

Claud. Not sad, my lord.
Pedro. How then? sick?

Claud. Neither, my lord.
Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but

civil count--civil as an orange, and something of that jealous
complexion.

Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll
be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I

have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won. I have broke with
her father, and his good will obtained. Name the day of marriage,

and God give thee joy!
Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His

Grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it!
Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue.

Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little
happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours.

I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.
Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss

and let not him speak neither.
Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.

Beat. Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy
side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her

heart.
Claud. And so she doth, cousin.

Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but
I, and I am sunburnt. I may sit in a corner and cry 'Heigh-ho for

a husband!'
Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your
Grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent

husbands, if a maid could come by them.
Pedro. Will you have me, lady?

Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working days:
your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But I beseech your

Grace pardon me. I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.
Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes

you, for out o' question you were born in a merry hour.
Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star

danc'd, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy!
Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?

Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle, By your Grace's pardon. Exit.
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 dreamt of unhappiness
and wak'd herself 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 married, they would

talk themselves mad.
Pedro. County 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
sevennight; 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' labours, which

is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a
mountain of affection th' one with th' other. I would fain have

it a match, and I doubt not but 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 approved

valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour
your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I,

[to Leonato and Claudio] with your two helps, will so practise on
Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy

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.
Exeunt.

Scene II.
A hall in Leonato's house.

Enter [Don] John and Borachio.
John. It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of

Leonato.
Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.

John. Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be med'cinable to me.
I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his

affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this
marriage?

Bora. Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty
shall appear in me.

John. Show me briefly how.
Bora. I think I told your lordship, a year since, how much I am in