that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is ACT II more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less Sc. I than a man, I am not for him. Therefore I will even take sixpence in earnest of the berrord, and lead his

apes into Hell.

38

But yet

LEON. Well, then, go you into Hell ?
BEAT. No; but to the gate; and there will the Devil

meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head,
and say Get you to Heaven, Beatrice, get you to
Heaven; here's no place for you maids : so deliver I
up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the Heavens !2
He shews me where the bachelors sit, and there live we

as merry as the day is long. Ant. [to HERO.] Well, Niece, I trust you will be ruld

by your father. BEAT. Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make

courtesy, and say Father, as it please you. for all that, Cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say Father, as it please me. LEON. Well, Niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with

a husband. BEAT. Not till God make men of some other metal than

earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmaster'd with a piece of valiant dust ? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl ? No, Uncle; I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren;

and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. LEON. Daughter, remember what I told you : if the

Prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your

52

60

answer.

BEAT. The fault will be in the music, Cousin, if you be

not woo'd in good time: if the Prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero : wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace:5 the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes Repentance, and with

ACT II
Sc. I

his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster,

till he sink apace into his grave. LEON. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. BEAT. I have a good eye, Uncle: I can see a church by

daylight. Leon. The revellers are entering, Brother: make good

room.

79

Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHAZAR,

John the Bastard, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA,

and others, maskers, with a drum. D. PEDRO. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? HERO. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say

nothing, I am your's for the walk; and especially when

I walk away.
D. PEDRO. With me in your company ?
HERO. I may say so, when I please.
D. PEDRO. And when please you to say so?
HERO. When I like your favour; for God defend the

lute should be like the case !
D. PEDRO. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house

is Jove.
HERO. Why, then your visor should be thatch’d.
D. PEDRO.

Speak low, if you speak loye.

[They pass. Balth. Well, I would

you

did like me.
Marg. So would not I for your own sake; for I have

many ill qualities.
BALTH. Which is one?
MARG
Marg. I say my prayers aloud.
BALTH. I love you the better : the hearers may cry Amen.

I
Marg. God match me with a good dancer !
BALTH. Amen!
MARG. And God keep him out of my sight when the

dance is done! Answer, Clerk.
Balth. No more words: the clerk is answer'd. [They pass.
Urs. I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio.
ANT. At a word, I am not.
Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head.
Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

91

109

an end.

I 20

pray you, what

URs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were ACT II

the very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: Sc. I

you are he, you are he. ANT. At a word, I am not. URS. Come, come, do you think I do not know you by

your excellent wit ? can virtue hide itself? Go to,
mum, you are he: graces will appear, and there's

[They pass.
Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so ?
BEAT
BENE. No; you shall pardon me.
BEAT. Nor will you not tell me who you are ?
BENE. Not now.
BEAT. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good

wit out of the Hundred Merry Tales. Well, this

was Signior Benedick that said so.
BENE. What's he?
BEAT. I am sure you know him well enough.
BENE. Not I, believe me.
BEAT. Did he never make you laugh?
BENE, I

what is he?
BEAT. Why, he is the Prince's Jester : a very dull Fool;

only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit but in his villainy; for he both pleases men, and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him. I am sure he is in the Fleet:1 I would he

had boarded me. BENE. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what

you say BEAT. Do, do; he'll but break a comparison or two on

me: which, peradventure, not mark’d, or not laugh'd at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge' wing sav'd, for the fool will eat no supper that night. [Music within.] We must follow the

leaders.
BENE. In every good thing.
BEAT. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at
the next turning. [Dance. Exeunt all but Don John,

BORACHIO, and Claudio.
D. John. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath

1 in the present company (?).
II : C

17

132

140

ACT II
Sc. I

150

withdrawn her father to break with him about it. The

ladies follow her, and but one visor remains. BORA. [to Don John.] And that is Claudio: I know him

by his bearing
D. John [to CLAUDIO, masked.] Are not you Signior

Benedick?
CLAUD. You know me well ; I am he.
D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his

love: he is enamour'd on Hero. I pray you, dissuade
him from her, she is no equal for his birth : you may

do the part of an honest man in it. CLAUD. How know you he loves her?

?
D. JOHN. I heard him swear his affection.
BORA. So did I too; and he swore he would marry her

to-night.
D. John. Come, let us to the banquet.

[Exeunt Don John and BORACHIO. CLAUD. Thus answer I in name of Benedick,

But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
'Tis certain so; the Prince wooes for himself.
Friendship is constant in all other things,
Save in the office and affairs of love:
Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues ;
Let every eye negotiate for itself,
And trust no agent. Beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,
Which I mistrusted' not. Farewell, then, Hero!

160

170

Re-enter BENEDICK.
BENE. Count Claudio ?
CLAUD. Yea; the same.
BENE. Come, will you go with me?
CLAUD. Whither?
BENE. Even to the next willow, about your own busi-

ness, Count. What fashion will you wear the garland
of? about your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under
your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear

it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I wish him joy of her.

180

ACT II
Sc. I

BENE. Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier : so

they sell bullocks. But did you think the Prince

would have serv'd you thus ? CLAUD. I pray you, leave me. BENE. Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas

the boy that stole 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

sedges. But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The Prince's Fool ! Ha! It may be I

go

under that title because I am merry. Yea; but so I am apt to do myself wrong. I am not so reputed: it is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice that puts the World into her person, and so gives me out. Well, I'll be reveng'd as I may.

198

Re-enter Don PEDRO.
D. PEDRO. Now, Signior, where's the Count ? did you

see 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 I told him true, that your Grace had got the good-will of this young lady; and I offer'd him my company to a willow-tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to

bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipp'd. D. PEDRO. To be whipp'd! What 's his fault ? BENE. The flat transgression of a schoolboy: who, being

overjoy'd with finding a bird's-nest, shews it his com

panion, and he steals it.
D. PEDRO. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression?

The transgression is in the stealer.
BENE. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made,

and the garland too; for the garland he might have
worn himself, and the rod he might have bestow'd on

you, who, as I take it, have stol’n his bird's-nest. D. PEDRO. I will but teach them to sing, and restore

them to the owner. BENE. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith,

you say honestly.

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