say, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness: and virtuous; 'tis so, I cannot reprove it : and wife, but for loving me by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly; for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance to have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd so long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quipps and sentences, and these paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? no: the world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a batchelor, I did not think I should live 'till I were marry'd. Here comes Beatrice: by this day, she's a fair lady; I do spy some marks of love in her.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat. Against my will, I am fent to bid you come in to dinner.

Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you take pains to thank me; if it had been painful, I would not have come.

Bene. You take pleasure then in the message. Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choak a daw withal: you have no ftomach, Signior; fare you well. [Exit.

Bene. Ha! against my will I am fent to bid you come in to dinner: - there's a double meaning in that. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you took pains to thank me; that's as much as to say, any pains that I take for you is as eafie as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew; I will go get her Picture. [Exit.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE continues in the Orchard.

G

Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.

HERO.

OOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour,
There shalt thou find my Cousin Beatrice,
Propofing with the Prince and Claudio;

Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her steal into the pleached Bower,
Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the Sun,
Forbid the Sun to enter; like to Favourites,
Made proud by Princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it: there will the hide her,
To liften our Propose; this is thy office,
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant, presently. [Exit.
Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come

As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our Talk must only be of Benedick;
When I do name him, let it be thy Part
To praise him more than ever man did merit.
My Talk to thee must be, how Benedick
Is fick in love with Beatrice; of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hear-say: now begin.

Enter Beatrice, running towards the Arbour.
For look, where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground to hear our conference.

Urfu. The pleasant'st angling is to fee the fish

Cut

Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait;
So angle we for Beatrice, who e'en now
Is couched in the woodbine-coverture;
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
No, truly, Urfula, she's too disdainful;
I know, her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggerds of the rock.

Urfu. But are you fure,

That Benedick loves Beatrice so intirely?

Hero. So fays the Prince, and my new-trothed lord.
Urfu. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?
Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it;

But I perfuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,
To with him wrastle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urfu. Why did you fo? doth not the Gentleman
Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed,
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon ?

Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deferve
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But Nature never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice.
Disdain and Scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Mif-prizing what they look on; and her wit
Values it self so highly, that to her
All matter else seems weak; she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-indeared.

Urfu. Sure, I think so;

And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you speak truth. I never yet faw man,
How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward; if fair-fac'd,
She'd swear, the gentleman should be her fister;
If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antick,

Made a foul blot; if tall, a launce ill-headed;

L

If low, an Aglet very vilely cut; (10)
If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds
If filent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out,
And never gives to truth and virtue That,
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urfu, Sure, fure, such carping is not commendable
Hero. No; for to be so odd, and from all fashions
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable.
But who dare tell her so? if I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of my felf, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly;
It were a better death than die with mocks,
Which is as bad as 'tis to die with tickling.
Urfu. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.

Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel him to fight against his paffion.
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To ftain my Cousin with; one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoison liking.

Urfu. O, do not do your Cousin such a wrong.
She cannot be so much without true judgment,
(Having so swift and excellent a wit,
As she is priz'd to have) as to refuse

(10) If low, an Agat very vilely out ;) But why an Agat, if low? And what. Shadow of Likeness between a little Man and an Agat? The Antients, indeed, used this Stone to cut in, and upon; but most exquisitely. I make no question but the Poet wrote;

an Aglet very vilely cut;

An Aglet was the Tagg of those Points, formerly so much in Fashion. These Taggs were either of Gold, Silver, or Brass, according to the Quality of the Wearer; and were commonly in the Shape of little Images; or at least had a Head cut at the Extremity, as is seen at the End of the Start of old-fashion'd Spoons. And as a tall Man is before compar'd to a Launce ill-headed; fo, by the same Figure, a little Man is very aptly liken'd to an Aglet ill-ent.

Mr. Warburton.

So

So rare a gentleman as Benedick.

Hero. He is the only man of Italy,

Always excepted my dear Claudio.

Urfu. I pray you, be not angry with me, Madam,

Speaking my fancy; Signior Benedick,
For shape, for bearing, argument and valour,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
Urfu. His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.

When are you marry'd, Madam ?

Hero. Why, every day; to morrow; come, go in, I'll shew thee some attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to morrow.

Urfu. She's lim'd, I warrant you; we have caught her, Madam.

Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by haps; Some Cupids kill with arrows, Some with traps.

Beatrice, advancing.

[Exeunt.

Beat. What fire is in my ears? can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for Pride and Scorn so much?

Contempt, farewel! and maiden pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of such.
And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee;
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand;
If thou doft love, thy kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band.
For others say, thou dost deserve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

SCENE, Leonato's House.

:

:

[Exit.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick and Leonato.

Pedro.

I

DO but stay 'till your marriage be confummate, and then go I toward Arragon.

Claud. I'll bring you thither my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me.

Pedro. Nay, That would be as great a foil in the new glofs