E""!

bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they fay too, that he will rather die than give 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 mending. They fay, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witnefs. And virtuous;-'tis fo, I cannot And wife-but for loving me-by my reprove it.

troth, it is no addition to her wit-
nor no great ar-
gument 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 against marriage; but doth not the ap-
petite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth, that
he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and fen-
tences, and thefe paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man
from the career of his humour? no: the world muft
be peopled. When I faid, I would die a batchelor, I
did not think I 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 take pains to thank me--that's as much as to fay, any pains

that

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 few; I will go get her picture.

[Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I;

G

Continues in the Orchard.

Enter Hero, Margaret, and Urfula.

HERO.

OOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour, There fhalt thou find my Coufin Beatrice, Propofing with the Prince and Claudio; Whisper her ear, and tell her, 1 and Urfua Walk in the orchard, and our whole difcourfe 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, Forbid the Sun to enter; like to Favourites, Made proud by Princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will fhe hide her, To liften our Purpofe; this is thy office, Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

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

[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 muft be, how Benedick Is fick in love with Beatrice; of this matter Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, P 3

That

214

That only wounds by hear-fay: now begin.

Enter Beatrice, running towards the Arbour.
For look, where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Clofe by the ground to hear our conference.

Urf. The pleafant'ft angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the filver stream,
And greed ly 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.

Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lofe no-
thing

Of the falle 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 fo 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 me to acquaint her of it; But I perfuaded them, if they lov❜d Benedick, To with him wreftle 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 fhall 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 fcorn ride fparkling 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,

8 Mifrifin.] Defpifing; contemning.

Nor

Nor take no fhape nor project of affection,
She is fo felf-indeared.

Urf. Sure, I think fo;

And therefore certainly it were not good

She knew his love, left fhe make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you fpeak 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; 9 If black, why Nature, drawing of an antick, Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance 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 every man the wrong fide out,
And never gives to truth and virtue That,
Which fimpleness and merit purchaseth.

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

9 If black, why, Nature,

drawing of an antick, Made a foul blot ;] The antick was a buffoon character in the old Eng ifh farces, with a bl cked face, and a patch-work b bit. What I would obferve from hence is, that the name of antick or antique, given to this character, fhews that the people had fome traditional ideas of its being borrowed from the ancient mimes, who are thus defcribed by Apuleius, mimi centunculo, fuligine faciem obduzi.

WARBURTON. 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 exquifite

ly. I make no question but the poet wrote;

-an Aglet very vilely cut; An aglet was the tagg of thofe points, formerly fo much in fashion. These taggs were either of gold, filver, or brafs, according to the quality of the wearer; and were commonly in the fhape of little images; or at leaft had a head cut at the extremity. The French call them aiguillettes. Mazeray, speaking of Henry IIId's forrow for the death of the princess of Conti, fays,-portant meme fur les aiguillettes de petites tetes de Mort. And as a tall man is before compar'd to a Launce ill-headed; so, by the fame figure, a little Man is very aptly liken'd to an Aglet ill-cut. WARBURTON.

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 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.
Urf. Yet tell her of it; hear what fhe will fay.
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,
And counfel him to fight againft his paffion.
And, truly, I'll devile fome honeft flanders
To ftain my Coufin with; one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoifon liking.

Urf. 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 refufe
So rare a gentleman as Bencdick.

Hero. He is the only man in 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 foremoft 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 counfel Which is the beft to furnish me to morrow.

3

Urf. 3 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. [Exeunt.

2 Argument. This word feems here to fignify dyourfe, or, the 1ers of rea'oning.

3 She's lim'd] She is enfnared and entangled as a fparrow with Lirdlime.

Beatrice,