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food to my displeasure: that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; if I can crofs him any way, I bless my self every way; you are both fure, and will aslift me.

Conr. To the death, my lord.

John. Let us to the great supper ; their Cheer is the greater, that I am subdu'd ; 'would the cook were of my mind! shall we go prove what's to be done?

Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt.

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SCENE, a Hall in Leonato's House. . Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice,

Margaret and Ursula.

WA

LEONATO.
A S not Count John here at Supper?

Ant. I saw him not.

Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an hour after.

Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition.

Beat. He were an excellent man, that were made just in the mid-way between him and Benedick; the one is too like an image, and says nothing: and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tatling.

Leon. Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face

Beat. With a good Leg, and a good foot, Uncle, and mony enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if he could get her good Will.

Leon. By my troth, Neice, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be fo fhrewd of thy tongue.

Ant. Ant. In faith, she's too curft.

Beat. Too curft is more than curft; I shall leffen God's sending that way ; for it is said, God sends a curft Cow short horns ; but to a Cow too curft he sends

none.

Leon. So, by being too curft, God will send you no horns.

Beat. Juft, if he send me no husband; for the which Blefling I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening: Lord ! I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face, I had rather lye in woollen.

Leon. You may light upon a husband, that hath no beard.

Beat. What should I do with him ? dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? he that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man ; and he that is more than a youth, is not for me ; and he that is less than a man, I am not for him : therefore I will even take fix pence in earnest of the bear-herd, and lead his apés into hell.

Leon. Well then, go you into hell,

Beat. No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with his horns on his head, and say, get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you “ to heav'n, here's no place for you maids.” So deliver I up my apes, and away to St. Peter, for the heav'ns; he shews me where the batchelors fit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.

Ant. Well, Neice, I trust, you will be ruld by your father.

[To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Cousin's duty to make curtsie, and say, Father, as it pleases you ; but yet for all that, Cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtfie, and say, Father, as it pleases

me.

Leon. Well, Neice, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.

Beat. Not 'till God make men of some other metal than earth; would it not grieve a woman to be over:

master'd

master'd with a piece of valiant duft ? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marle ? no, uncle, I'll none ; Adam's sons are my brethren, and, truly, I hold it a fin to match in my kindred.

Leon. Daughter, remember, what I told you; if the Prince do follicit you in that kind, you know your answer.

Beat. The fault will be in the musick, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time; If the Prince be too important, tell him, there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the Answer; for hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace; the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly-modelt, as a measure, full of state and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, 'till he finks into his

grave. Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing threwdly.

Beat. I have a good eye, uncle, I can see a church by day-light.

Leon. The revellers are entring, brother ; make good

room.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and

others in Masquerade. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend?

Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk, and especially when I walk away: Pedro. With me in your company

? Hero. I may say so, when I please. Pedro. And when please you to say so ?

Hero. When I like your favour ; for God defend, the lute should be like the case !

Pedro. (4) My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is yove.

Hero. (4) My Visor is Philemon's Roof, within the House is Love.] Thus the whole Stream of the Copies, from the first down.

wards,

Hero. Why, then your vifor should be thatch'd.
Pedro. Speak low, if you fpeak love.
Balth. Well; I would, you did like me. (5)

Marg. So would not I for your own fake, for I have many ill qualities.

Balth. Which is one?

wards. I muft own, this Passage for a long while appear'd very obscure to me, and gave me much Trouble in attempting to understand it. Here says to Don Pedro, God forbid, the Lute should be like the Cale! i. e. that your Face should be as homely and as course as your Mask. Upon this, Don Pedro compares his Visor to Philemon's Roof. 'Tis plain, the Poet alludes to the Story of Baucis and Philemon from Ovid: And this old Couple, as the 'Roman Poet describes it, liv'd in a thatch'd Cottage ;

Stipulis olyan cannâ te&ta palustri. But why, Within the House is Love Baucis and Philemon, 'tis true, had liv'd to old Age together, in a comfortable State of

Agreement. But Piery and Hospitality are the top Parts of their Character. Our Poer unquestionably goes a little deeper into the Story Tho' this old Pair liv'd in a Cottage, this Cottage receiv'd two ftraggling Gods, (tupiter and Mercury,) under its Roof. So, Don Pedro is a Prince; and tho' his Visor is but ordinary, he would infinuate to Hero, that he has something god-like within : alluding either to his Dignity, or the Qualities of his person and Mind. By these circumstances, I am sure, the Thought is mended : as, I think verily, the Text is too by the Change of a single Letter.

within the House is Jove. Nor is this Emendation a little confirm'd by another Passage in our Author, in which he plainly alludes to the fame Story. As you like it. Clown. I am here with thee and thy Goats, as the most capri

cious Poet, honest Ovid, was among st the Goths. Jaq. O Knowledge ill inhabited, worse than Jove in a thatch'd

House ! (s) Balth. Welly, I would, you did like me.] This and the two following little Speeches, which I have placed to Balthazar, are in all the printed Copies given to Benedick. But, 'tis clear, the Dialogue here ought to be betwixt Balthazar, andg Margaret: Benedick, a little lower, converses with Beatrice : and so cvery Man talks with his Woman once round.

Marg.

Marg. I say my Prayers aloud.

Balih. I love you the better, the hearers may cry Amen.

Marg. God match me with a good dancer !
Balib. Amen.

Marg. And God keep him out of my fight when the dance is done! Answer, Clerk.

Balth. No more words, the clerk is anfwer'd.

Urf. I know you well enough ; you are Signior Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. I know you by the wagling of your head.
Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man : here's his dry hand up and down ; you are he, you are he.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urf. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you by your excellent wit ? can virtue hide it felf? go to, mym, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end.

Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you so? Bene. No, you shall pardon me. Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are? Bine. Not now. Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good Wit out of the Hundred merry Tales ;. well, this was Signior Benedick that faid so. Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure, you know him well enough. Bene. Not I, believe me. Beat. Did he never make you laugh ? Bene. I pray you, what is he?

Beat. Why, he is the Prince’s jefter ; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising impoffible flanders: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him; I am sure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me,

Bene,

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