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food to my displeasure : that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him any way, I bless
myself every way; you are both fure, and will affist 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! fhall we go prove what's to be done?
Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt.
A CT II.
SCENE, a Hall in Leonato's House. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice,
Margaret and Ursula.
Ant. I saw him not. Bea. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him, but I am heart-burnd an hour after.
Hero. He is of a very melancholy dispofition.
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 fon, evermore tatling.
Leon. Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count Fohn'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, Niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
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.
Leon. So, by being too curft, God will send you no horns.
Beat. Just, if he send me no husband : for the which blessing 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 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 thews me where the bachelors fit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.
Ant. Well, Niece, I trust, you will be ruld by your father.
Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say, Father as it pleafes you; but yet for all that, Cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtfy, and fay, Father as it pleases
Leon, Well, Niece, 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
Mafter'd with a piece of valiant duft? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marle? no, uncle, l'll none; Adam's sons are my brethren, and, truly, I hold ít 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, 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-modeft, as a measure, full of ftate and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, 'till he finks into
Leon. Coufin, you apprehend pafling threwdly.
Beat. I have a good eye, uncle, I can see a church by day-light.
Leon. The revellers are entring, brother ; make good toom. 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 fay nothing, I am yours for the walk, and especially when I walk away:
Pedro. With me in your company?
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 Vifor is Philemon's Roof, within the House is Love.] Thus the whole Stream of the Copies, from the first dowowards
Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd.
Marg. So would not I for your own fake, for I have many ill qualities.
Balth. Which is one ?
I must own, this Passage for a long while appear'd very obfcure to me, and gave me much trouble in attempting to understand it. Hero says to Don Pedro, God forbid, the Lute should be like the Case! j. e. that your Face ihould 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 & canna tecta paluftri. 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 Piety and Hospitality are the top Parts of their Character. Our Poet unquestionably goes a little deeper into the Story. Though this old Pair lived in a Cottage, this Cottage received two ftraggling Gods, (Jupiter and Mercury,) under its Roof. So, Don Pedro is a Prince; and though his Visor is but ordinary, he would insinuate 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 Ikuse is Jove.
Nor is this Emendation a little confirmed by another Paflage
Poet, honeft Ovid, was among ft the Goths.
(5) Balth. Well; 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 Balthazır, and Margaret : Benedick, a little lower, converses with Beatrice, and so every Man talks with his Woman once round,
Marg. I say my Prayers aloud.
Balib, I love you the better, the hearers may cry Amen.
Marg. God match me with a good dancer!
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.
Urs. I know you well enough ; you are Signior Ana tonio.
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were the very man: here's his dry har 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 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?
you are ?
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 fo. Bere. 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 impossible 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 Aeet; I would, he had boarded me.