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

Imuft 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 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 remnants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd fo long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and fentences, and these 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 meffage.

Beat. Yea, just 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 those 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 thee parlour, There fhalt thou find my Coufin Beatrice, Propofing with the Prince and Claudio; Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Urfula 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 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, prefently.

[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

That only wounds by hear-fay: now begin.

Enter Beatrice, running towards the Arbour.
For look, where Beatrice, like lapwing, runs
Clofe by the ground to hear our conference.
Urf. The pleafant'ft angling is to fee 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.

Ilero. Then go we 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 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 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 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

8

Of prouder ftuff than that of Beatrice.

Difdain and fcorn ride sparkling 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,

Mifprifing.] Defpifing; contemning.

Nor

Nor take no shape 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 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 fhould be her fifter;
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 fimplenefs and merit purchaseth.

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

If black, why, Nature, ly. I make no queftion but the drawing of an antick, poet wrote; Made a fout blot ;] The antick was a buffoon character in the old English farces, with a blacked face, and a patch-work habit. What I would obferve from hence is, that the name of antick or antique, given to this charafter, fhews that the people had fome traditional ideas of its being borrowed from the ancient mimes, who are thus defcribed by Apuleius, mimi centunculo, juligine faciem obducti.

WARBURTON. If low, an Agat very vilely cut;] But why an agar, if low? For what likeness between a little man and an agat? The ancients, indeed, ufed this ftone to cut upon; but very exquifite

―an Aglet very vilely cut ; An aglet was the tagg of those points, formerly fo much in fashion. Thefe 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 extre mity. The French call them aiguillettes. Mazeroy, fpeaking of Henry IIld's forrow for the death of the princefs of Conti, fays, portant meme far les aiguillettes de petites tetes de Mort. And as a tall man is before compar'd to a Launce ill-headed; fo, by the fame figure, a little Man is very aptly liken'd to an Aglet WARBURTON. ill-cut.

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 myfelf, prefs me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Confume away in fighs, wafte in wardly;
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 against his paffion.
And, truly, I'li 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 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 in Italy,
Always excepted my dear Claudio.

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

2

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 limb'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 difcourfe, or, the pouers of reafoning.

3 She's limb'd. She is enfnared and entangled as a sparrow with birdlime.

Beatrice,