Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

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

[blocks in formation]

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

Margaret and Ursula.

W

LEONAT Q.
AS not Count yohn 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 husband, if thou be so fhrewd of thy tongue.

Ant.

[ocr errors]

none.

Ant. In faith, she's too curft.

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

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 : ford ! 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 be that path 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 apes 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 rul'd by your father.

[To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Cousin's duty to make curtfie, 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

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:

mailer'd

me.

your an

mafter'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 fons 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 solicit you in that kind, you know fwer. 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 hafty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical ; the wedding mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque pace fafter and faster, 'till he finks

Leon. Cousin, you apprehend paffing Ihrendly.

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

Leon. The revellers are entring, brother ; make good

into his grave:

1

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 Jove.

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

wards.

[ocr errors]

Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd.
Pedro. Speak low, if you speak 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.

Baltb. Which is one ?

[merged small][ocr errors]

wards. I must own, this Passage for a long while appear’d. very obscure to me, and gave me much Trouble in attempting to understand it. Hero fays to Don Pedro, God forbid, the Lute should be like the Case ! 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 Pbilemon from Ovid: And this old Couple, as the Roman Poet describes it, liv'd in a Ibatcb'd Cottage ;

Stipulis & cannâ tefta palustri. But why, Witbin obe House is Love? Baucis and Pbilemon, 'tis true, had liv'd to old Age together, in a comfortable State of Agreement. But Piety and Hospitality are the top Parts of their Character. Our Poet unquestionably goes a little deeper into the Story. Tho' this old Pair liv'd in a Cottage, this Cottage receiv'd two ftraggling Gods, (Jupiter 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 some. thing 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 Paffage in our Author, in which he plainly alludes to the fame Story. you

like it. Clown. I am bere with thee and tby Goats, as the most capri.

cious Poet, boneft Ovid, was amongst the Goths. Jaq. O Knowledge ill inbabited, worse than Jove in a thatch'd

Houfe. (5) Balth. Well; I would, you did like me.] This and the two following little Speeches, which I have placed to Balıbazar, are in all the printed Copies given to Benedick. But, 'tis clear, the Dialogue here ought to be betwixt Balthazar, and Margaret: Benedick, a little lower, converses with Beatrice: and so every Man talks with his Woman once round.

Marg.

Marg. I say my Prayers aloud.

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

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

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

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

Urs. 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.

Urs. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you by your excellent wit ? can virtue hide it self? go to, mum, 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?
Bene. 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 said 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 jester; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising impossible sanders: 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 feet ; I would, he had boarded me.

Bene.

« PredošláPokračovať »