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wear her

with a Christian-like fear*. Well, I am sorry for your niece: shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love?

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

Leon. Nay, that's impossible, she may heart out first.

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

Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.

Claud. f he do not doat on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation.

[-Afde. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread 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 see, which will be merely a dumb show. 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 seem to pity the lady; it seems her affections “ have the full bent. Love me! why, it must be re. “ quited. I hear how I am censur'd: they say I will “ bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from “ her; they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection,

I did never think to marry -I must not seem proud---- Happy are they that o hear their detractions, and can put them to mend“ ing. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth I can « bear thein witness: and virtuous;-tisí so, I cannot

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

Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, how foever it seems not in him, by some large jefts he will make. Well, ti.

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“ reprove it: and wise, 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 rem“ nants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd so “ long against marriage. But doth not the appetite al“ ter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he cano not endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences, " and these paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from “ the career of his humour? no; the world must be

peo«

pled When I said, I would die a bachelor, 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 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, just so much as you may

take
upon

knife's point, and choak a daw withal: you have no domach, 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

-that's as much as to say, any pains that I take for

you is as easy 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.

a

17

mei

ACT III.

. SCENE I.
Continues in the orchard.
Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.
GOOD

OOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour,
Hero.

, , There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice, Proposing with the Prince and Claudio;

C3

While

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 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 listen our purpose: this is thy office ;
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant, presently.

[Exia
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-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.

Urs. The pleasant’st angling is to see the fith
Cut with her golden oars the filver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait;
So ar gle we for Beatrice, who e'en now
Is couched in the woodbine-coverture:
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

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

Urf. But are you sure,
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?

Hero. So says 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 persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,

To

To with him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urf. Why did you so; doth not the gentleman
Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed,
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?

Hero. O god of love! I know lie 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.
Disdain 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 seems weak; she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.

Urs. Sure I think so;
And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, left the make sport at it.
Hero. Why, you speak truth. I

never yet

saw

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 sister; • 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 filent, wły, a block moved with none.' So turns she

wrong And never gives to truth and virtue that Which fimpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urs. Sure, sure, 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 so? If I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in fighs, waste inwardly;
It were a better death than die with mocks,
Which is as bad as 'tis to die with tickling.

Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,

And

every man the

fide out,

And counsel him to fight against his passion.
And, truly, I'll devise fome honeft slanders
To stain my cousin with; one doth not know
How much an ill word may impoifon liking.

Urf. O, do not your coufin 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
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 shape, for bearing, argument, and valour,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Indeed he hath an excellent good name.

Urs. 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 thew thee fome attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.

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

Hero. If it prove fog then loving goes by hape :
Some Cupids kill with arrows, fome with traps. [Exeunt.

Beatrice, advancing.
Bent. 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 such. And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee;

Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand; If thou dost 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.

[Exit.
SCENE II. Leonato's boufe.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.

Pedro. I do but ftay till your marriage be consummate, and then go I toward Arragon?

Claud.

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