Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never truft my expectation.

[Afide. Pedro Let there be the fame net fpread for her, and that must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry; the fport will be, when they hold an opinion of one another's dotage, and no fuch matter; that's the Scene that I would fee, which will be merely a Dumb Show; let us fend her to call him to dinner. [Afide.] Exeunt.

Bene.

SCENE

X.

Benedick advances from the Arbour.

TH

HIS can be no trick, the conference was fadly borne; they have the truth of this from Hero; they feem to pity the lady; it feems, her affections have the full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited: I hear, how I am cenfur'd; they fay, I will bear myfelf proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they fay too, that fhe will rather die than give any fign of affection.I did never think to marry—I must not seem proud- -happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending: they fay, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witnefs and virtuous ;'tis fo, 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 fome odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd fo long againft 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 fentences, and thefe paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? no: the world must be peopled. When I faid, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I fhould

fhould live 'till I were marry'd. Here comes Beatrice: by this day, fhe's a fair lady; I do fpy fome 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, juft fo 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 thofe thanks, than you took pains to thank me; that's as much as to fay, any pains that I take for you is as eafy 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.

АСТ III. SCENE

I.

Gr

Continues in the Orchard.

Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.

HERO.

OOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour,
There shalt thou find my Coufin Beatrice,
Propofing with the Prince and Claudio;
Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Urfula
Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
Is all of her; fay, that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her fteal into the pleached Bower,
Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the Sun,

G 4

Forbid

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
To liften our Purpose; this is thy office,
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

[her,

- Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant prefently.

[Exit.

Hero. Now, Urfula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up

and down,
Our Talk muft 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-fay: 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'ft angling is to fee the fish
Cut with her golden oars the filver ftream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait ;
"So angle we for Beatrice, who c'en now
Is couched in the woodbine-coverture;
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

Tthing

Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose noOf the false sweet bait that we lay for it. No, truly, Urfula, fhe's too difdainful; I know, her fpirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock.

Urfu. But are you sure,

That Benedick loves Beatrice fo 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

To wish him wraftle with affection,

And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urfu. Why did you fo? doth not the Gentleman Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed,

As ever Beatrice fhall 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 fluff than that of Beatrice.
Difdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Mif-prizing what they look on; and her wit
Values itself fo highly, that to her

All matter elfe feems weak; fhe cannot love,
Nor take no fhape nor project of affection,
She is fo felf-indeared.

Urfu. Sure, I think fo;

And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, left 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 fhe would spell him backward; if fair-fac'd,
She'd fwear, the gentleman fhould be her fifter;
If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic,
Made a foul blot; if tall, a launce ill-headed;
* If low, an Aglet very vilely cut;

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;

*If low, an Agat very vilely cut;] But why an Agat, if low? For what Likeness between a little Man and an Agat? The Ancients, indeed, used this Stone to cut upon; but very exquifitely. I make no Question but the Poet wrote;

- an Aglet very vilely cut;

An Aglet was the Tag of those Points, formerly so much in Fashion. These Tags 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. The French** call them aiguillettes. Mezeray, fpeaking of Henry IIId's Sorrow for the Death of the Princefs of Conti, fays, ---portant meme fur fes aiguillettes de petites tetes de Mort. And as a tall Man is before compar'd to a Launce ill-headed; fo, by the fame Figure, a little Man is very aptly liken'd to an Aglet ill-cut.

1

If filent, why a block moved with none.
So turns fhe

every man the wrong

fide out, And never gives to truth and virtue That, Which fimpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urfu. Sure, fure, fuch carping is not commendable. Hero. No; for to be fo odd, and from all fashions, As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable.

But who dare tell her fo? if I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, prefs me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Confume away in fighs, wafte 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 counfel him to fight against his paffion.
And, truly, I'll devife fome honeft flanders
To ftain my Coufin with; one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoifon liking.

Urfu. O, do not do your Coufin fuch a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgment, (Having fo fwift and excellent a wit,

As fhe is priz'd to have) as to refuse
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 fhape, for bearing, argument and valour,
Goes foremoft 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 fhew thee fome attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.

Urfu.