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 he 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? Claud. O, very well, my lord. The music ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth. [Enter Balthasar with Music.] Pedro. Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice To slander music any more than once. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency To put a strange face on his own perfection. I pray thee sing, and let me woo no more. Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he swear he loves. Pedro. Nay, pray thee come; Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Balth. Note this before my notes: There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.