fhe's an excellent fweet lady, and (out of all fufpicion). fhe is virtuous. Claud. And fhe is exceeding wife. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in fo tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory; I am forry for her, as I have juft caufe, being her uncle and her guardian. Pedro. I would, fhe had beftow'd this dotage on me; I would have dafft all other respects, and made her half myfelf; I pray you, tell Benedick of it; and hear what he will fay. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks, furely the will die; for fhe fays, fhe will die if he love her not, and fhe will die ere the n-ake her love known; and he will die if he woo her, rather than fhe will bate one breath of her accuftcm'd croffrefs. Pedro. She doth well; if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very poffible, he'll fcorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. laud. He is a very proper man. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness. Claud. 'Fore God, and, in my mind, very wife. Pedro. He doth, indeed, fhew fome fparks that are -like wit. Leon. And I take him to be valiant. Pedro. As Hector, I affure you; and in the managing of quarrels you may fay he is wife; for either he avoids them with great difcretion, or undertakes them with a chriftian-like fear. Leon. If he do fear God, he muft neceffarily keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. Pedro. And fo will he do, for the man doth fear God, howfoever it seems not in him, by fome large jests, he will make. Well, I am forry for your Niece; fhall we feek Benedick, and tell him of her love? go Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it out with good counfel. Leon. Leon. Nay, that's impoffible, fhe may wear her 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 mcdeftly examine himself to fee how much he is unworthy to have fo good a lady. Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never troft my expectation. [Afide. Pedro. Let there be the fame net spread for her, and that muft your daughter and her gentlewoman carry ; the sport will be, when they hold an opinion of one another's dotage, and no fuch matter; that's the Scene that I would fee, wh ch will be merely a Dumb Show; let us fend her to call him to dinner. [Afide.] [Exeunt. 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 feems, her affections have the full bent. Love me! why, it must be requited: I hear, how I am cenfur'd; they fay, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they fay too, that fhe will rather die than give any fign of affection. I did never think to marry - I must 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 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 railed 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 quipps and fentences, and these paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? no; the world must be peopled. When I faid, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live 'till I were marry'd. Here me comes comes Beatrice: by this day, fhe's a fair lady; I do spy 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, just fo much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choak a daw withal: you have no tomach, 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 took pains to thank that's as much as to fay, any pains 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 Jew; I will go get her picture.. me ; [Exit. ACT III. SCENE continues in the Orchard G Enter Hero, Margaret and Urfula. HERO. OOD Margaret, run thee into the parlour, Forbid the Sun to enter: like to Favourites, Made proud by Princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will the hide her, To liften our Propofe; 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 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. Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lofe nothing I know, her spirits are as coy and wild, Urfula. But are you fure, That Benedick loves Beatrice fo intirely? Hero. So fays the Prince, and my new-trothed lord. Urfu. 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 wish him wrestle with affection, And never to let Beatrice know it. Urfu. Why did you fo? doth not the Gentleman Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed, As As ever Beatrice fhall couch upon ? Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deferve All matter else feems weak; fhe cannot love, Urfu. Sure, I think fo; And therefore certainly it were not good Hero. Why, you speak truth. I never yet faw man, How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, But fhe would fpel him backward; if fair-fac'd, (12) She'd fwear, the gentleman fhould be her fifter; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antick, Made a foul blot; if tall, a launce ill-headed; If low, an Aglet very vilely cut; (13) (12) if fair-fac'd, She'd fear, the gentleman should be her fifter; Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-beaded; &c. If Some of the editors have pretended, that our author never imitates any paffages of the ancients. Methinks, this is so very like a remarkable defcription in Lucretius; (lib. iv. verf. 1154, &c.) that I can't help fufpecting, Shakespeare had it in view; the only difference feems to be, that the Latin poet's characteristics turn upon Praife; our countryman's, upon the hinge of Derogation. Nigra unixp& eft; immunda & fætida, änooμ©• Parvola, pumilio, Xxpirav μix, tota merum Sal: Magna atque immanis, urinλngis, plenaque bonoris. (13) If low, an Agat very vilely cut ;] But why an Agat, if low? And what fhadow of likeness between a little man and an Agat? The ancients, indeed, used this stone to cut in, and upon; but most exquifitely. I make no queftion but the poet wrote; an Aglet very vilely cut; An Aglet was the tagg of those points, formerly so much in fashion, Thefe taggs were either of gold, filver, or brass, according to the quality |