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If fpeaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If filent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns the 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 fhould speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, fhe would laugh me
Out of my felf, 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 fay.
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel 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 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.

Urfu. I pray you, be not angry with me, Madam, Speaking my fancy; Signior Benedick,

Taming of the Shrew.

Why, give him Gold enough, and marry him to a Puppet, er an Aglet-baby, &c.

The Two Noble Kinsmen of Beaumont and Fletcher;

I'm very cold; and all the Stars are out too,

The little Stars, and all; that look like Aglets.

And Sir John Harrington, in his Tranflation of Arifto's Orlando

Furiofo. Book V. St. 47.

The Gown I ware was white, and richly fet

With Aglets, Pearl, and Lace of Gold well garnish'd:
My fately Treffes cover'd with a Net

Of beaten Gold, moft pure and brightly warnifh'd, &c.

Ff4

For

For fhape, for bearing, argument and valour,
Goes formoft 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 counfel 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 fo, 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 fo much?
Contempt, farewel! 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, my kindness fhall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band.
For others fay, thou doft deserve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

SCENE, Leonato's Houfe.

[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 vouchfafe me.

Pedro. Nay, That would be as great a foil in the new glofs of your marriage, as to fhew a child his new coat and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the foale of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string,

and

and the little hangman dare not fhoot at him; he hath a heart as found as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue Speaks.

Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been.

Leon. So fay I; methinks, you are fadder. .. Claud. I hope, he is in love.

Pedro. Hang him, truant, there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love; if he be fad, he wants mony.

Bene. I have the tooth-ach.

'Pedro. Draw it.

Bene. Hang it.

Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards, Pedro. What? figh for the tooth-ach

Leon. Which is but a humour, or a worm.

Bene. Well, every one can mafter a grief but he that has it.

Claud. Yet fay I, he is in love...

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Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy that he hath to ftrange difguifes, as to be a Dutch man to day, a French man to morrow; or in the fhape of two countries at once, a German from the wafte downward, all flops, and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet: Unless he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it to appear he is.

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Claud. If he be not in love with fome woman, there is no believing old figns; he brushes his hat o'mornings; what should that bode?

Pedro. Hath any man feen him at the barber's?

Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already ftuft tennis-balls.

Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the lofs of a beard.

Pedro. Nay, he rubs himself with civet; can you smell him out by that?

Claud. That's as much as to fay, the sweet youth's in love.

Pedro.

Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy. Claud. And when was he wont to wafh his face? Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear what they fay of him.

Claud. Nay, but his jefting fpirit, which is now crept into a lute-string and now govern'd by stops

Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him. Conclude, he is in love.

Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him.

Pedro. That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.

Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions, and in despight of all, dies for him.

Pedro. She fhall be bury'd with her heels upwards. (14) Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Old Signior, walk afide with me, I have study'd eight or nine wife words to fpeak to you which these hobbyhorses must not hear. [Exeunt Benedick and Leonato. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice. Claud. 'Tis even fo. Hero and Margaret have by this play'd their parts with Beatrice; and then the two bears will not bite one another, when they meet.

(14) She fhall be buried with her Face upwards.] Thus the whole Set of Editions: But what is there any ways particular in This? Are not all Men and Women buried fo? Sure, the Poet means, in Oppofition to the general Rule, and by way of Diftinction, with her beels upwards, or face downwards. I have chofe the firft Reading, because I find it the Expreffion in Vogue in our Author's time.

So, Beaumont and Fletcher in their Wild-Goofe Chafe.

Whilft I have Meat and Drink, Love cannot farve me ;
For if I dye o'th' firft Fit, I'm unhappy i

And worthy to be buried with my heels upwards.

And in The Woman's Prize; or, The Tamer tam'd:

Some Few,

For thefe are rareft, they are faid to kill

With Kindness and fair Ufage; but what they are,
My Catalogue difcovers not; only 'tis thought,

They're buried in old Walls with their Heels upward.
And again, in The Coxcomb;

Judge me, I do but jeft with thee: What, an She were inverted with her Heels upward, like a Traytor's Coat ?

Enter

Enter Don John.

John. My Lord and brother, God fave you.
Pedro. Good den, brother.

John. If your leisure ferv'd, I would speak with you.
Pedro. In private?

John. If it please you; yet Count Claudio may hear; for, what I would fpeak of, concerns him.

Pedro. What's the matter?

John, Means your lordship to be marry'd to mor[To Claudio,

row?

Pedro. You know, he does.

John. I know not that, when he knows what I know. Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, difcover it.

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John. You may think, I love you not, let that appear hereafter; and aim better at me by That I now will manifeft; for my brother, I think, he holds you well, and in dearnefs of heart hath holp to effect your enfuing marriage; furely, Suit ill spent, and Labour ill bestow'd!

Pedro, Why, what's the matter?

John. I came hither to tell you, and circumftances fhorten'd, (for the hath been too long a talking of) the Lady is difloyal.

Claud. Who? "Hero?

John. Even the, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero,

Claud. Difloyal?

John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could fay, fhe were worfe; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it; wonder not 'till further warrant; go but with me to night, you fhall fee her chamber-window enter'd, even the night before her wedding day; if you love her, then to morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind.

Claud. May this be fo?

Pedro. I will not think it.

John.

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