| ACT III SCENE III | A street. | |
| | Enter DOGBERRY and VERGES with the Watch | |
| DOGBERRY | Are you good men and true? | |
| VERGES | Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer | |
| | salvation, body and soul. | |
| DOGBERRY | Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if | 5 |
| | they should have any allegiance in them, being | |
| | chosen for the prince's watch. | |
| VERGES | Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry. | |
| DOGBERRY | First, who think you the most desertless man to be | |
| | constable? | 10 |
| First Watchman | Hugh Otecake, sir, or George Seacole; for they can | |
| | write and read. | |
| DOGBERRY | Come hither, neighbour Seacole. God hath blessed | |
| | you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man is | |
| | the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. | 15 |
| Second Watchman | Both which, master constable,-- | |
| DOGBERRY | You have: I knew it would be your answer. Well, | |
| | for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and make | |
| | no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, | |
| | let that appear when there is no need of such | 20 |
| | vanity. You are thought here to be the most | |
| | senseless and fit man for the constable of the | |
| | watch; therefore bear you the lantern. This is your | |
| | charge: you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are | |
| | to bid any man stand, in the prince's name. | 25 |
| Second Watchman | How if a' will not stand? | |
| DOGBERRY | Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go; and | |
| | presently call the rest of the watch together and | |
| | thank God you are rid of a knave. | |
| VERGES | If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none | 30 |
| | of the prince's subjects. | |
| DOGBERRY | True, and they are to meddle with none but the | |
| | prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in | |
| | the streets; for, for the watch to babble and to | |
| | talk is most tolerable and not to be endured. | 35 |
| Watchman | We will rather sleep than talk: we know what | |
| | belongs to a watch. | |
| DOGBERRY | Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet | |
| | watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should | |
| | offend: only, have a care that your bills be not | 40 |
| | stolen. Well, you are to call at all the | |
| | ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. | |
| Watchman | How if they will not? | |
| DOGBERRY | Why, then, let them alone till they are sober: if | |
| | they make you not then the better answer, you may | 45 |
| | say they are not the men you took them for. | |
| Watchman | Well, sir. | |
| DOGBERRY | If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue | |
| | of your office, to be no true man; and, for such | |
| | kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them, | 50 |
| | why the more is for your honesty. | |
| Watchman | If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay | |
| | hands on him? | |
| DOGBERRY | Truly, by your office, you may; but I think they | |
| | that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable | 55 |
| | way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him | |
| | show himself what he is and steal out of your company. | |
| VERGES | You have been always called a merciful man, partner. | |
| DOGBERRY | Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more | |
| | a man who hath any honesty in him. | 60 |
| VERGES | If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call | |
| | to the nurse and bid her still it. | |
| Watchman | How if the nurse be asleep and will not hear us? | |
| DOGBERRY | Why, then, depart in peace, and let the child wake | |
| | her with crying; for the ewe that will not hear her | 65 |
| | lamb when it baes will never answer a calf when he bleats. | |
| VERGES | 'Tis very true. | |
| DOGBERRY | This is the end of the charge:--you, constable, are | |
| | to present the prince's own person: if you meet the | |
| | prince in the night, you may stay him. | 70 |
| VERGES | Nay, by'r our lady, that I think a' cannot. | |
| DOGBERRY | Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows | |
| | the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not without | |
| | the prince be willing; for, indeed, the watch ought | |
| | to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay a | 75 |
| | man against his will. | |
| VERGES | By'r lady, I think it be so. | |
| DOGBERRY | Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be | |
| | any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your | |
| | fellows' counsels and your own; and good night. | 80 |
| | Come, neighbour. | |
| Watchman | Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here | |
| | upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed. | |
| DOGBERRY | One word more, honest neighbours. I pray you watch | |
| | about Signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being | 85 |
| | there to-morrow, there is a great coil to-night. | |
| | Adieu: be vigitant, I beseech you. | |
| | Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES | |
| | Enter BORACHIO and CONRADE | |
| BORACHIO | What Conrade! | |
| Watchman | Aside | |
| BORACHIO | Conrade, I say! | |
| CONRADE | Here, man; I am at thy elbow. | 90 |
| BORACHIO | Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought there would a | |
| | scab follow. | |
| CONRADE | I will owe thee an answer for that: and now forward | |
| | with thy tale. | |
| BORACHIO | Stand thee close, then, under this pent-house, for | 95 |
| | it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard, | |
| | utter all to thee. | |
| Watchman | Aside | |
| BORACHIO | Therefore know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats. | |
| CONRADE | Is it possible that any villany should be so dear? | |
| BORACHIO | Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any | 100 |
| | villany should be so rich; for when rich villains | |
| | have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what | |
| | price they will. | |
| CONRADE | I wonder at it. | |
| BORACHIO | That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou knowest that | 105 |
| | the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is | |
| | nothing to a man. | |
| CONRADE | Yes, it is apparel. | |
| BORACHIO | I mean, the fashion. | |
| CONRADE | Yes, the fashion is the fashion. | 110 |
| BORACHIO | Tush! I may as well say the fool's the fool. But | |
| | seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion | |
| | is? | |
| Watchman | Aside | |
| | thief this seven year; a' goes up and down like a | |
| | gentleman: I remember his name. | 115 |
| BORACHIO | Didst thou not hear somebody? | |
| CONRADE | No; 'twas the vane on the house. | |
| BORACHIO | Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this | |
| | fashion is? how giddily a' turns about all the hot | |
| | bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty? | 120 |
| | sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers | |
| | in the reeky painting, sometime like god Bel's | |
| | priests in the old church-window, sometime like the | |
| | shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry, | |
| | where his codpiece seems as massy as his club? | 125 |
| CONRADE | All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears | |
| | out more apparel than the man. But art not thou | |
| | thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast | |
| | shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion? | |
| BORACHIO | Not so, neither: but know that I have to-night | 130 |
| | wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the | |
| | name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress' | |
| | chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good | |
| | night,--I tell this tale vilely:--I should first | |
| | tell thee how the prince, Claudio and my master, | 135 |
| | planted and placed and possessed by my master Don | |
| | John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter. | |
| CONRADE | And thought they Margaret was Hero? | |
| BORACHIO | Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the | |
| | devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly | 140 |
| | by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by | |
| | the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly | |
| | by my villany, which did confirm any slander that | |
| | Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore | |
| | he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning | 145 |
| | at the temple, and there, before the whole | |
| | congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night | |
| | and send her home again without a husband. | |
| First Watchman | We charge you, in the prince's name, stand! | |
| Second Watchman | Call up the right master constable. We have here | 150 |
| | recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that | |
| | ever was known in the commonwealth. | |
| First Watchman | And one Deformed is one of them: I know him; a' | |
| | wears a lock. | |
| CONRADE | Masters, masters,-- | 155 |
| Second Watchman | You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you. | |
| CONRADE | Masters,-- | |
| First Watchman | Never speak: we charge you let us obey you to go with us. | |
| BORACHIO | We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken | |
| | up of these men's bills. | 160 |
| CONRADE | A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you. | |
| | Exeunt | |