Urf. I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urf. I know you by the wagling of your head. Urf. You could never do him fo ill-well, unless you were the very man: here's his dry hand up and down; you are he, you are he. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urf. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you by your excellent wit? can virtue hide itfelf? go to, mum, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end. Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you fo? Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are? Bene. Not now. Beat. That I was difdainful, and that I had my good Wit out of the Hundred merry Tales; well, this was Signior Benedick that faid fo. Bene. What's he? Beat. I am fure, you know him well enough. Bene. Not I, believe me. Beat. Did he never make you laugh? Bene. I pray you, what is he? Beat. Why, he is the Prince's jefter; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devifing impoffible flanders *: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they 194 laugh at him, and beat him; I am fure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me. Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you fay. Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, ftrikes him into melancholy, and then there's a partridge wing fav'd, for the fool will eat no fupper that night. We must follow the leaders. Bene. In every good thing. [Mufick within. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. SCENE III. Manent John, Borachio, and Claudio. [Exeunt. John. Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it: the ladies follow her, and but one vifor remains. Bora. And that is Claudio; I know him by his Bearing. John. Are you Signior Benedick? Claud. You know me well, I am he. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love, he is enamour'd on Hero; I pray you diffuade him from her, fhe is no equal for his birth; you may do the part of an honest man in it. Claud. How know ye, he loves her? John. I heard him fwear his affection. Bora. So did I too, and he fwore he would marry her to night. John. Come, let us to the banquet. [Exeunt John and Bora. Claud. Thus anfwer I in name of Benedick, But hear chis ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain fo-the Prince wooes for himself. Friendship Friendship is conftant in all other things, Therefore all hearts in love ufe their own tongues, And truft no agent; beauty is a witch, Against whofe charms faith melteth into blood. Which I miftrufted not. Farewel then, Hero! Enter Benedick. Bene. Count Claudio? Claud. Yea, the fame. Bene. Come, will you go with me? Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, Count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an Ufurer's chain "? or under your arm, like a Lieutenant's fcarf? you muft wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I with him Joy of her. Bene. Why, that's fpoken like an honest drover; fo they fell bullocks: but did you think, the Prince would have ferved you thus? Claud. I pray you, leave me. Bene. Ho! now you ftrike like the blind man ; 'twas the boy that ftole your meat, and you'll beat the Post. Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. [Exit. Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into fedges. But, that my Lady Beatrice fhould know -me, and not know me! the Prince's fool!-ha? it may be, I go under that Title, because I am merry I 6 Ufurer's chain?] know not whether the chain was, in our authour's time, the common ornament of wealthy citi O 2 zens, or, whether he fatirically ufes ufurer and alderman as fynonymous terms. yea, yea, but fo I am apt to do myself wrong: I am not fo reputed. It is the bafe (tho' bitter) difpofition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her perfon, and fo gives me out; well, I'll be reveng❜d as I may. Pedro. Now, Signior, where's the Count? did you fee him? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have play'd the part of lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren, I told him (and I think, told him true) that your Grace had got the Will of this young lady, and I offer'd him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forfaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt. Pedro. To be whipt! what's his fault? Bene. The flat tranfgreffion of a School-boy; who, being overjoy'd with finding a bird's neft, fhews it his companion, and he fteals it. Pedro. Wilt thou make a truft, a tranfgreffion? the tranfgreffion is in the ftealer. Bene. Yet it had not been amifs, the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the rod he might have beftow'd on you, who (as I take it) have ftol'n his bird's neft. Pedro. I will but teach them to fing, and restore them to the owner. 7 It is the bafe, tho' bitter, difpofition of Beatrices, who puts the world into her perfon.] That is, it is the difpofition of Beatrice, who takes upon her to perfonate the world, and therefore reprefents the world as fuying what the only fays herself. Bafe tho' bitter. I do not understand how bafe and bitter are inconfiftent, or why what is bitter should not be base. I believe we may fafely read, it is the bafe, the bitter difpofition. Bene. Bene. If their finging answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. Pedro. the lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman, that danc'd with her, told her fhe is much wrong'd by you. Bene. O, the mifus'd me paft the indurance of a block; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answer'd her; my very vifor began to affume life, and fcold with her; fhe told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jefter, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling jeft upon jest, with fuch impaffable conveyance upon me, that I ftood like a man at a mark, with a whole army fhooting at me; fhe fpeaks Ponyards, and every word ftabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, fhe would infect to the North-ftar; I would not marry her, though fhe were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'd; she would have made Hercules have turn'd Spit, yea and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her, you fhall find her the infernal Até in good apparel. I would to God, fome fcholar 8 fuch IMPOSSIBLE conveyance] We should read IMPASSABLE. A term taken from fencing, when the ftrokes are fo fwift and repeated as not to be parried or paffed off. WARB. I know not what to propose. Impoffible feems to have no mean ing here, and for impassable I have not found any authority. Spenfer ufes the word importable in a fenfe very congruous to this paffage, for insupportable, or not to be fuftained. Both him charge on either fide With hideous ftrokes and import. able pow'r, Which forced him his ground traverse wide. to It may be eafily imagined, that Sir Thomas Hanmer reads im- 9 the infernal Até in good apparel.] This is a pleasant allufion to the cuftom of ancient pcets and painters, who reprefent the furies in raggs. WARB. O 3 would |