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 money 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. In faith, fhe's too curft.

Beat. Too curft is more than curft; I shall lessen God's fending that way; for it is faid, God fends a curft Cow short horns; but to a Cow too curft he fends none.

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

Beat. Juft, if he fend me no Hufband; for the which Bleffing 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 lie in woollen.

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

Beat. What fhould 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 lefs than a man; and he that is more than a youth, is not for me; and he that is lefs 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.

Ant. Well, Neice, I truft, you will be rul'd by your father. [To Hero.

Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Coufin's duty to make curtly, and fay, Father, as it pleafes you; but yet for all that, Coufin, let him be a handfome fellow, or else make another curtly, and fay, Father, as it pleafes me. Leon. Well, Neice, I hope to fee you one day fitted with a husband.

Beat.

Beat. Not till God make men of fome other metal than earth; would it not grieve a woman to be over-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 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 folicit you in that kind, you know your answer.

Beat. The fault will be in the mufic, coufin, 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-modelt, as a measure, full of ftate and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into his cinque-pace fafter and faster, 'till he finks into his grave.

Leon. Coufin, you apprehend paffing fhrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle, I can fee a church. by day-light.

Leon. The revellers are entring, brother; make good room.

SCENE II.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and others in Mafquerade.

Pedro.

L

ADY, will you walk with your friend? Hero. So you walk foftly, and look fweetly, and fay nothing, I am yours for the walk, and efpecially when I walk away.

Pedro. With me in your company?
Hero. I may fay fo, when I pleafe.
Pedro. And when please you to say fo?

Hero.

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

Pedro. My vifor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.

Hero. Why, then your vifor fhould be thatch'd. Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love.

Balth. Well; I would, you did like me,

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

Balth. Which is one?

Marg. I fay 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.

Urf. I know you well enough; you are Signior

Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urf. I know you by the wagling of your head.
Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
Urf. You could never do him fo ill-well, unless

you were the very man: here's his dry hand up

down; you are he, you are he.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

and

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

an end.

Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you fo?
Bene. No, you shall pardon me.

Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are?

Bene. Not now.

Beat. That I was difdainful, and that I had my good Wit out of The Hundred merry Tales; well, this was Signior Benedick that said so.

Bene.

Bene. What's he?

Beat. I am fure, 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 devifing impaffible 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 laught at him, and beat him; I am fure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me.

Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you fay.

Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, ftrikes him into melancholy, and then there's a partridge wing fav'd, for the fool will eat no fupper that night. We muft follow the leaders. [Mufic within.

Bene. In every good thing.

Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning.

[Exeunt.

Manent John, Borachio, and Claudio.

John. Shath withdrawn her father to break with URE, brother is amorous on Hero, and

him about it: the ladies follow her, and but one vifor remains.

Bora. And that is Claudio; I know him by his Bearing. John. Are you not Signior Benedick?

Claud. You know me well, I am he.

John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love, he is enamour'd on Hero; I pray you, diffuade him from her, fhe is no equal for his birth; you may do the part of an honest man in it.

Claud.

Claud. How know ye, he loves her?

John. I heard him fwear his affection.

Bora. So did I too, and he fwore he would marry her to-night.

John. Come, let us to the banquet.

[Exeunt John and Bor. Claud. Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear this ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain fo, the Prince wooes for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love; Therefore all hearts in love fue your own tongues! Let every eye negotiate for itself,

And truft no agent; beauty is a witch,

Against whofe charms * faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,

Which I miftrufted not.

Farewel then, Hero!

Enter Benedick.

Bene. Count Claudio?

Claud. Yea, the fame.

Bene. Come, will you go with me?
Claud. Whither?

Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own bufinefs, Count. What fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an Ufurer's chain? or under your arm, like a Lieutenant's scarf? you must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your

Hero.

Claud. I wish him Joy of her.

Bene. Why, that's spoken like an honeft drover; fo they fell bullocks: but did you think, the Prince would have ferved you thus?

Claud. I pray you, leave me.

* Faith melteth into Blood.] i. e. These intemperate. Defires make Men treacherous; but the Expreffion alludes to the old Opinion of Superstition concerning Witches; that they turned wholesome Liquors into Blood by their Charms.

Bene.