[074] Bene. An he had been a dog that should have howled 075 thus, they would have hanged him: and I pray God his [076] bad voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it.
D. Pedro. Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I [079] pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night 080 we would have it at the Lady Hero’s chamber-window.
Balth. The best I can, my lord.
[082] D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exit Balthasar.] Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior 085 Benedick?
Claud. O, ay: stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. I did never think that lady would have loved any man.
Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all 090 outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor.
Bene. Is’t possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to [093] think of it, but that she loves him with an enraged affection; [094] it is past the infinite of thought.
095 D. Pedro. May be she doth but counterfeit.
Claud. Faith, like enough.