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Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.
Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice; I give thee the bucklers.
Marg. Give us the swords; we have bucklers of
Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for maids
Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think, hath legs.
[Exit Margaret. Bene. And therefore will come. (Sings.] The God of love, that fits above, and knows me, and knows me, bow pitiful I deserve, I mean, in singing; buc in loving, Leander the good swimmer, iroilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse'; why, they were never so truly turn'd over and over, as my poor felf, in love; marry, I cannot shew it in rhime; I have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but baby, an innocent's rhime; for scorn, þorn, a hard rhime ; for school, fool, a babling rhime; very ominous endings; no, I was not born under a rhiming planet, for I cannot woo in festival terms.
Beat. Yea, Signior, and depart when you
Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now; and yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing whạt hạth paft between you and Claudio. G3
Bene. Only foul words, and thereupon I will kiss thee.
Beat. Foul words are but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkist.
Bene. Thou haft frighted the word out of its right fense, so forcible is thy wit; but, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either
. I must thortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward; and I pray thee, now tell me, for which of my bad parts didft thou first fall in love with me?
Beat. For them all together ; which maintain'd fo politick a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them: but for which of my good parts did you first fuffer love for me?
Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet; I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.
Beat. In spight of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart, if you Ipight it for my fake, I will spight it for yours; for I will never love that, which my friend hates.
Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
Beat. It appears not in this confeffion; there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.
Bene. “ An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that fs liv'd ' in the time of good neighbours ;” if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monuments, than the bells ring, and the widow
weeps. Beat. And how long is that, think you? Bene, ? Question ?-why, an hour in clamour, and a
quarter 8 in the time of good neighbours ;) i. e. When men were not envious, but every one gave another his due. The reply is extremely humourous.
9 Question? wby, an hour, &c ].i.e. What a question's there, or what a foolish question do you ask. But the Oxford Editor
quarter in rhewm; therefore it is most expedient for the wise, if Don worm (his conscience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to my self; so much for praising my self; who, I my self will bear witness, is praise. worthy; and now tell me, how doth your Cousin?
Beat. Very ill.
Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend; there will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.
Enter Ursula. Ursu. Madam, you must come to your uncle ; yonder's old coil at home; it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accus'd; the Prince and Claudio mightily abus'd ; and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone : will you come presently?
Beat. Will you go hear this news, Signior?
Bene. I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be bury'd in thy heart; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants with
Attend. It is, my lord. not understanding this phrase, contracted into a fingle word, (of which we have many instances in English) has fairly struck it out.
E P I T A P. H.
Done to death by sanderous tongues
Was the Hero, that here lyes:
Gives her fame which never dies.
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Claud. Now musick found, and fing your folemn hymn.
Midnight, allt our moan; (4 Help us to figh and
Claud. Now unto thy bones good night! Yearly will I do this Right. Pedro. Good morrow, mafters, put your torches out;
The wolves have prey'd; and, look, the gentle
day, Before the wheels of Phebus, round about
Dapples the drowsie east with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare you well.
Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way.
Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds; And then to Leonato's we will go.
Claud. · And Hymen now with luckier iffue speed's, Than this, for whom we render'd up
[Exeunt. S CE N E IX.
Changes to Leonato's House. Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret, Ursula,
Antonio, Friar, and Hero. Friar. ID I not tell
she was innocent?
Ant. Well; I am glad, that all things fort so well.
Bene, And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
Leon. Well, Daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance,
Tban this, for whom we render'd up this Woe.) Claudio could not know, without being a prophet, that this new-propos’d match should have any luckier event than that design'd with Hero. Certainly, therefore, this should be a wish in Claudio; and, to this end, the poet might have wrote, Speed's; i.e. speed us: and so it becomes a prayer to Hymen, Dr. Thirlby.