Is all of her; fay, that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the fun,
Forbid the fun to enter;-like favourites,
Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it :- there will she hide her,
"To liften our propose: This is thy office,

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,
As we do trace this alley up and down,

Our talk must only be of Benedick :
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit :
My talk to thee must be, how Benedick
Is fick in love with Beatrice: Of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hear fay. Now begin.

Enter Beatrice, behind.

For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.

Urf. The pleasant'ft angling is to fee the fish
Cut with her golden oars the filver ftream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait:
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture:
Fear you not my part of the dialogue.

[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;
I know, her fpirits are as coy and wild
Ashaggards of the rock.

Urf. But are you sure,

That Benedick loves Beatrice fo entirely?

Hero. So fays the prince, and my new-trothed lord.
Urf. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it:
But I perfuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,
To with him wrestle with affection,

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
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But nature never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice :
Difdain and fcorn ride fparkling in her eyes,
"Mifprifing what they look on; and her wit
Values itself fo highly, that to her

All matter elfe feems weak: fhe cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is fo felf-endeared.

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 black, why, nature, drawing of an antick,
Make a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agat very vilely cut :

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds
If filent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns the every man the wrong fide out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which fimpleness and merit purchaseth.

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,
She'd mock me into air; O, fhe would laugh me
Out of myself, prefs me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Confume away in fighs, waste inwardly:
It were a bitter death to die with mocks;
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

Urf. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will fay.
Hero. No; rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel him to fight against his paflion:
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with; One doth not know,
How much an ill word may empoison liking.

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,
Goes foremost in report through Italy.

Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
Urf. His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.-
When are you marry'd, madam?

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?
Contempt, farewel! and maiden pride, adieu !
No glory lives behind the back of fuch.
And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee;

Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand;
If thou doft love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band:

For others fay, thou doft deserve; and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

< 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