Prin. Come, shall we heare this musicke? Claud. Yea my good Lord: how still the euening is. As husht on purpose to grace harmonie
Prin. See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe? Clau. O very well my Lord: the musicke ended, Wee'll fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth
Prince. Come Balthasar, wee'll heare that song again
Balth. O good my Lord, taxe not so bad a voyce, To slander musicke any more then once
Prin. It is the witnesse still of excellency, To slander Musicke any more then once
Prince. It is the witnesse still of excellencie, To put a strange face on his owne perfection, I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more
Balth. Because you talke of wooing, I will sing, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit, To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he sweare he loues
Prince. Nay pray thee come, Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Doe it in notes
Balth. Note this before my notes, Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting
Prince. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks, Note notes forsooth, and nothing
Bene. Now diuine aire, now is his soule rauisht, is it not strange that sheepes guts should hale soules out of mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's done.
The Song.
Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceiuers euer, One foote in Sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant neuer, Then sigh not so, but let them goe, And be you blithe and bonnie, Conuerting all your sounds of woe, Into hey nony nony. Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heauy, The fraud of men were euer so, Since summer first was leauy, Then sigh not so, &c
Prince. By my troth a good song
Balth. And an ill singer, my Lord
Prince. Ha, no, no faith, thou singst well enough for a shift
Ben. And he had been a dog that should haue howld thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his bad voyce bode no mischiefe, I had as liefe haue heard the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come after it
Prince. Yea marry, dost thou heare Balthasar? I pray thee get vs some excellent musick: for to morrow night we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window
Balth. The best I can, my Lord.
Exit Balthasar.
Prince. Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice was in loue with signior Benedicke? Cla. O I, stalke on, stalke on, the foule sits. I did neuer thinke that Lady would haue loued any man
Leon. No, nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she should so dote on Signior Benedicke, whom shee hath in all outward behauiours seemed euer to abhorre
Bene. Is't possible? sits the winde in that corner? Leo. By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to thinke of it, but that she loues him with an inraged affection, it is past the infinite of thought
Prince. May be she doth but counterfeit
Claud. Faith like enough
Leon. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counterfeit of passion, came so neere the life of passion as she discouers it
Prince. Why what effects of passion shewes she? Claud. Baite the hooke well, this fish will bite
Leon. What effects my Lord? shee will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how
Clau. She did indeed