the favour of Margaret, the
waitinggentlewoman to Hero.
John. I remember.
Bora. I can, at any unseasonable
instant of the night,
appoint her
to look out at her lady's
chamber window.
John. What life is in that to be the death of this marriage?
Bora. The
poison of that lies in you to
temper. Go you to the
Prince your brother; spare not to tell him that he hath wronged
his honour in marrying the
renowned Claudio (whose
estimation do
you mightily hold up) to a contaminated stale, such a one as
Hero.
John. What proof shall I make of that?
Bora. Proof enough to
misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo
Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue?
John. Only to
despite them I will
endeavour anything.
Bora. Go then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count
Claudio alone; tell them that you know that Hero loves me; intend
a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as--in love of
your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's
reputation, who is thus like to be cozen'd with the
semblance of
a maid--that you have discover'd thus. They will scarcely believe
this without trial. Offer them instances; which shall bear no
less
likelihood than to see me at her
chamber window, hear me
call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio; and bring them
to see this the very night before the intended
wedding (for in
the
meantime I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be
absent) and there shall appear such
seeming truth of Hero's
disloyalty that
jealousy shall be call'd
assurance and all the
preparation overthrown.
John. Grow this to what
adverse issue it can, I will put it in
practice. Be
cunning in the
working this, and thy fee is a
thousand ducats.
Bora. Be you
constant in the
accusation, and my
cunning shall not
shame me.
John. I will
presently go learn their day of marriage.
Exeunt.
Scene III.
Leonato's orchard.
Enter Benedick alone.
Bene. Boy!
[Enter Boy.]
Boy. Signior?
Bene. In my
chamber window lies a book. Bring it
hither to me in
the orchard.
Boy. I am here already, sir.
Bene. 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 laugh'd 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 walk'd ten mile
afoot 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 turn'd 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. [Hides.]
Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio.
Music [within].
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!
Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?