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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. Bcat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you


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 scnt 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.



SCENE 1.-Leonato's Garden.



OOD Margaret, run thee to the parlour;
There shalt thou find my cousin Bea-


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, ripend 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

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 sick in love with Beatrice: of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin;

Enter BEATRICE, behind.
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.

Urs. The pleasantest angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait :
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture :
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
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; I know, her spirits are as coy and wild As haggards of the rock. 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 ?

Hero. They did entreat me to acquaint her of it : But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, To wish him wrestle with affection, And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urs. Why did you so ? 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,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.

Sure, I think so;
And therefore, certainly, it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.
Hero. Why, you speak truth : I never yet saw

man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward : if fair faced, She would swear the gentleman should be her

sister; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic, Made a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut : If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out; And never gives to truth and virtue that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not com

mendable. 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; 0, she would laugh


Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly :
It were a better death than die with mocks;
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Urs. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will say.
Hero. No rather I will go to Benedick,

And coursel him to fight agairfst his passion :
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with : one doth not know
How much an ill word may empoison liking.

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
Sy rare a gentleman as signior Benedick.

Hero. He is the only man of Italy, Always excepted my dear Claudio.

Urs. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy; signior Benedick, For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour, Goes foremost in report through Italy.

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


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

much? Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu !

No glory lives behind the back of such.

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