D. John. I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? What news, Borachio? [Enter Borachio.] Bora. I came yonder from a great supper; the prince, your brother, is royally entertained by Leonato; and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. D. John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness? Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. D. John. Who? the most exquisite Claudio? Bora. Even he. D. John. A proper squire! And who? and who? which way looks he? Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. D. John. A very forward March-chick! How came you to this? Bora. Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference: I whipt me behind the arras; and there heard it agreed upon, that the prince should woo Hero for himself, and having obtained her give her to Count Claudio. D. John. Come, come, let us thither; this may prove food to my displeasure: that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way: You are both sure, and will assist me? Con. To the death, my lord. D. John. Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the greater that I am subdued: 'Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done? Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt.] ACT 2. Scene I.--A hall in Leonato's house. [Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, and others.] Leon. Was not Count John here at supper? Ant. I saw him not. Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after. Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition. Beat. He were an excellent man that were made just in the mid-way between him and Benedick; the one is too like an image, and says nothing; and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling. Leon. Then half signior Benedick's tongue in count John's mouth, and half count John's melancholy in signior Benedick's face,-- Beat. With a good leg, and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world,-- if he could get her good will. Leon. By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. Ant. In faith, she is too curst. Beat. Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's sending that way: for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none. Leon. So, by being too curst God will send you no horns. Beat. Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening: Lord! I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie inwoollen! Leon. You may light upon a husband that hath no beard.