Is all of her; fay, that thou overheard'st us; Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. Hero. Now, Urfula, when Beatrice doth come, Our talk must only be of Benedick : Enter Beatrice, behind. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Urf. The pleasant'ft angling is to fee the fish [Exit. Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lofe nothing Of the falle fweet bait that we lay for it. [They advance to the bower. To liften our propofe :]-To overhear our talk. No, No, truly, Urfula, fhe is too disdainful; Urf. But are you sure, That Benedick loves Beatrice fo entirely? Hero. So fays the prince, and my new-trothed lord. And never to let Beatrice know of it. Urf. Why did you fo? Doth not the gentleman Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed, As ever Beatrice fhall couch upon? Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deserve All matter elfe feems weak: fhe cannot love, Urf. Sure, I think so; And therefore, certainly, it were not good She knew his love, left fhe make sport at it. Hero. Why, you speak truth: I never yet faw man, How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, But fhe would fpell him backward: if fair-fac'd, w baggards]-wild hawks. as full, as fortunate a bed,]-to enjoy as much happiness in the married state. Y Mifprifing]-mifrepresenting, depreciating. She'd She'd fwear, the gentleman fhould be her fifter; If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds Urf. Sure, fure, fuch carping is not commendable. Hero. No; not to be so odd, and from all fashions, As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: But who dare tell her fo? If I fhould fpeak, Urf. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will fay. Urf. O, do not do your coufin fuch a wrong. She cannot be fo much without true judgment, (Having fo fwift and excellent a wit, As fhe is priz'd to have) as to refuse So rare a gentleman as fignior Benedick. an antick,]-in the old farces a buffoon with a blacked face. aan aglet. b prejs me to death]-alluding to an inhuman mode of legal torture lately abolished. Hero. Hero. He is the only man of Italy, Always excepted my dear Claudio. Urf. I pray you, be not angry with me, madam, Speaking my fancy; fignior Benedick, с For fhape, for bearing, argument, and valour, Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. Hero. Why, every day;-to-morrow: Come, go in, I'll fhew thee fome attires; and have thy counsel, Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow. Urf. She's lim'd, I warrant you; we have caught her, madam. Hero. If it prove fo, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, fome with traps. Beatrice advancing. [Exeunt, e Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn fo much? Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand; For others fay, thou doft deserve; and I < bearing, argument,]-addrefs-reafoning. d lim'd,J-entangled as with bird lime. [Exit. What fire is in mine ears?]-from my blushes-when we are talked of, our faces are faid to burn. Taming, &c.]-an image from falconry. SCENE SCENE II. Leonato's House. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato. Pedro. I do but ftay till your marriage be confummate, and then go I toward Arragon. Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchfafe me. Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a foil in the new glofs of your marriage, as to fhew a child his new coat, and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown of his head to the fole of his foot, he is all mirth; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-ftring, and the little hangman dare not shoot at him he hath a heart as found as a bell, and his tougue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks. Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been. : Leon. So fay I; methinks, you are fadder. Claud. I hope, he be in love. Pedro. Hang him, truant; there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love: if he be fad, he wants money. Bene. I have the tooth-ach. Pedro. Draw it. Bene. Hang it! Claud. You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards, Pedro. What? figh for the tooth-ach? Leon. Where is but a humour, or a worm? Bene. Well, Every one can mafter a grief, but he that has it. Claud. Yet fay I, he is in love. g Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy that he hath to strange difguifes; as to be a g fancy]-quibble between affection and affectation. Dutch |