witness and virtuous-'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, 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 have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so 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 sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.-Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in her. Enter BEATRICE. Beat. Against my will, I am sent 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 so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choke a daw withal-You have no stomach, signior; fare you well. [Exit. Bene. Ha! Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner-there's a double meaning in that. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you took pains to thank me-that's as much as to say, Any pains that I take for you is as easy 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. [Exit. G ACT III. SCENE I.-Leonato's Garden. Enter HER, MARGARET, and URSULA. Hero. OOD Margaret, run thee to the parlour; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Proposing with the prince and Claudio: Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her; say, that thou overheard'st us; And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter;-like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her, To listen our propose: this is thy office, Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. [Exit. Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down, Our talk must only be of Benedick: That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin; Enter BEATRICE, behind. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Urs. The pleasantest angling is to see the fish Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it. [They advance to the bower. No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful; Urs. But are you sure, That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? Hero. So says the prince, and my new-trothed lord. Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? And never to let Beatrice know of it. man Doth not the gentle Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed, As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? Hero. O God of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man: But nature never framed a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice: Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on; and her wit Values itself so highly, that to her All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Urs. Sure, I think so; And therefore, certainly, it were not good How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic, If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not com- Hero. No; not to be so odd, and from all fashions, As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say. And counsel him to fight against his passion: Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgment, (Having so swift and excellent a wit As she is prized to have,) as to refuse be not angry with me, madam, Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. Urs. His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. When are you married, madam? Hero. Why, every day, to-morrow: come, go in; I'll show thee some attires; and have thy counsel, Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow. Urs. [aside.] She's ta'en, I warrant you; we have caught her, madam. Hero. [aside.] If it prove so, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. [Exeunt HEO and URSULA. BEATRICE advances. Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn SO much? Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu! No glory lives behind the back of such. |