“I will do anything only to spite them.” “Go, then, find a fitting hour when Don Pedro and Count Claudio are alone, and tell them that you know Hero loves me,” said the wicked Borachio. “They will scarcely believe this without proof. Offer them the opportunity to test the truth of your words. Bring them outside Leonato’s house the night before the wedding; and in the meanwhile I will so fashion the matter that they shall see Margaret speak to me out of the window, they shall hear me call her ‘Hero,’ and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero’s disloyalty that Claudio in his jealousy will feel quite assured of it, and all the preparations for the wedding shall be overthrown.” “Let the issue of this be what it may, I will put it in practice,” said Don John. “Be cunning in working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.” “You be steady in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me,” was Borachio’s response. “Cupid’s Crafty Arrow” Benedick was strolling alone in Leonato’s orchard, and as he went he mused to himself. “I do wonder,” he thought, “that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he is in love, after he has laughed at such shallow follies in others, will himself become the object 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 he had rather hear the tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten miles on foot 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 his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. Shall I ever be so converted, and see with those eyes? I cannot tell. I think not. I will not be sworn that love may not 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 and virtuous, or I’ll have none of 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--her hair shall be of what colour it pleases God.... Ha! the Prince and Monsieur Love. I will hide me in the arbour.” And Benedick hastily concealed himself, as Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato approached, followed by some musicians. “Come, shall we hear this music?” said Don Pedro, seating himself on a bench within earshot of the arbour. “See you where Benedick has hidden himself?” he added in a low voice. “Oh, very well, my lord,” answered Claudio. “When the music is ended, we will give him something to think about.” “Come, Balthasar, we’ll hear that song again,” said Don Pedro.