with a Chriftian-like fear*. Well, I am forry for your niece: fhall we go feek Benedick, and tell him of her love?

Claud. Never tell him, my Lord; let her wear it out with good counfel.

Leon. Nay, that's impoffible, fhe may wear her heart out firft.

Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wifh he would modeftly examine himself, to fee how much he is unworthy to have fo good a lady.

Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not doat 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 gentlewoman carry; the sport will be, when they hold an opinion of one another's dotage, and no such matter; that's the scene that I would fee, which will be merely a dumb fhow. Let us fend her to call him to dinner.

[Afide. [Exeunt.

SCENE X. Benedick advances from the arbour." Bene. "This 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 re"quited. 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 BC any fign of affection.-I did never think to marry

-I muft not feem proud--- Happy are they that "hear their detractions, and can put them to mend"ing. They fay the lady is fair; 'tis a truth I can "bear them witness: and virtuous;-tis fo, I cannot 66 reprove

a Chriftian like fear.

Leon. If he do fear God, he must neceffarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling.

Pedro. And fo will he do; for the man doth fear God, how foever it feems not in him, by fome large jefts he will make. Well, &e.

-19

"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 rem"nants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd fo "long against marriage. But doth not the appetite al"ter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he can"not endure in his age. Shall quips and fentences, "and thefe paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from "the career of his humour? no; the world must be peo" pled When I faid, I would die a bachelor, I did not "think I fhould 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 sent 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 tomach, 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 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.

Hero.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Continues in the orchard.

Enter Hero, Margaret, and Urfula.

GOOD

[Exit.

WOOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour,

There shalt thou find my coufin Beatrice,

Propofing with the Prince and Claudio;

C 3

Whiffer

Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard, and our whole difcourfe
Is all of her; fay, that thou overheard❜ft us;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the fun,
Forbid the fun 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.

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

Hero. Now, Urfula, 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 muft 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.
·Urf. The pleafant'ft angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the filver ftream,
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.

[Exit

Hero. Then we go near her, that her ear lofe nothing Of the falfe fweet 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.

Urf. But are you fure,

That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?

Hero. So fays the Prince, and my new-trothed Lord. Urf. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam? Hero. They did intreat her to acquaint her of it; But I perfuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,

Το

To wish him wrestle with affection,

And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urf. Why did you fo; doth not the gentleman Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed,

As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?

Hero. O god of love! I know he doth deserve
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.
Difdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Mifprizing 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 shape nor project of affection,
She is fo felf-endeared.

Urf. 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 she would spell him backward. If fair-fac'd, She'd fwear the gentleman should be her fister; 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 fpeaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If filent, why, a block moved with none.' So turns fhe fide out, every man the wrong And never gives to truth and virtue that Which fimplenefs and merit purchafeth.

Urf. 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 fo? If I fhould fpeak,

She'd mock me into air; O fhe would laugh me
Out of myself, press 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.
Urf. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will fay.
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,

And

And counfel him to fight againft 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.

Urf. O, do not your coufin fuch a wrong. She cannot be fo 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.
Urf. I

pray you be not angry with me, Madam,
Speaking my fancy; Signior Benedick,
For fhape, for bearing, argument, and valour,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Indeed he hath an excellent good name.
Urf. 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.

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

Hero. If it prove fo, then loving goes by haps:

Some Cupids kill with arrows, fome with traps. [Exeunt.
Beatrice, advancing.

Beat. What fire is in my ears? can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
Contempt, farewell! and maiden-pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of fuch.
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 fay, thou doft deferve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

SCENE II. Leonato's houfe.

[Exit.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.

Pedro. I do but ftay till your marriage be confum

mate, and then go I toward Arragon?

Claud.