sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; O sweet Bencdick! God give me patience !

Leon. She doth, indeed, my daughter says fo; and the ecstasy hath so much overborn her, that my daughter is sometime afraid, she will do desperate outrage to herself; it is very true.

Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it,

Claud. To what end ? He would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.

Pedro. If he should, it were an alms to hang him ; she's an excellent sweet lady, and (out of all suspicion) the is virtuous.

Claud. And she is exceeding wise.
Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick.

Leon. O my Lord, wisdom and blood combating in fo tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory; I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian.

Pedro, I would she had bestow'd this dotage on me; I would have dafft all other respects, and made her half myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it; and hear what he will say.

Leon. Were it good, think you ?

Claud. Hero thinks surely she will die ; for she says, she will die if he love her not, and she will die ere she make her love known; and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustom'd crossness.

Pedro. She doth well; if she fhould make tender of her love, 'tis very possible, he'll scorn it ; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.

Claud. He is a very proper man.
Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward happiness.
Claud. 'Fore God, and, in my mind, very wise.

Pedro. He doth indeed shew some sparks that are like wit.

I.eon. And I take him to be valiant,

Pedro, As Hector, I assure you : and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise ; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes thema

with a Christian-like fear *. Well, I am sorry for your niece : shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love ?

Claud. Never tell him, my Lord ; let her wear it out with good counsel.

Leon, Nay, that's impossible, fhe may wear her heart out first.

Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter ; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy to have so good a lady.

Leon, My Lord, will you walk ? dinner is ready.

Claud. If he do not doat on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation.

[ Aside. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her, and that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry; the sport will be, when they hold an opinion of one another's dotage, and no such matter ; that's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb fhow. Let us send her to call him to dinner.

[ Aside. [Exeunt.

SCENE X. Benedick advances from the arbour.

Bene, “ This can be no trick, the conference was fadly borne; they have the truth of this from Hero;

they seem to pity the lady; ir feems her affections " have the full bent. Love me ! why, it must be re

quited. I hear how I am censur’d: they fay I will " bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from “ her; they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection.

I did never think to marry -I must not seem proud — Happy are they that or hear their detractions, and can put them to mendring. They fay the lady is fair ; 'tis a truth I can so bear them witness : and virtuous ;-—'tis so, I cannot

a Christian-like fear. Lcon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily keep peace ; if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling

Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some large jests he will make. Well, br.

reprove it : and wise, but for loving me by my troth, " it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument " of her folly; for I will be horribly in love with her.

I

may chance to have some odd quirks and reinnants of wit broken on me, because I have rail'd so long against marriage. But doth not the appetite alter ? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he can

not endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences, " and these paper-bullets of the brain, awe a man from “ the career of his humour ? no; the world must be

peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I “ did not think I should live till I were marry'd. Here

comes Beatrice : by this day, she's a fair lady; I do spy some marks of love in her.

Enter Beatrice. Beat. Against my will,

I sent to bid to dinner.

Bene, Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks, than you take pains to thank me ; if it had been painful, I would not have come.

Bene. You take pleasure then in the message.

Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choak a daw withal : you have no ftomach, Signior ; fare you well.

[Exit. Bene. Ha! against 111y will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner ; there's a double meaning in that. ) took no more pains for those thanks, than you took pains to thank me :--that’s as much as to say, any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew; I will go get her picture.

[Exit.

am

you come in

ACT III. SC EN E I.

Continues in the orchard.

Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula. Hero. Ood Margaret, run thee into the parlour,

There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice, Proposing with the Prince and Claudio;

G

Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
Is all of her ; say, that thou overheard'st us ;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,

Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun,
· Forbid the sun to enter; like to favourites,
. Made proud by princes, that advance their pride

Against that power that bred it: there will she hide To listen our purpose : this is thy office ;. Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant, presently.

[Exit. Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, As

is we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk muft 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, running towards the arbour.
For look, where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs:
Close by the ground to hear our conference.

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

Hero. Then we go near ħer, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
No, truly, Ursula, fhe's too disdainful ;
I know her spirits are as cay and wild.
As haggards of the rock..

Url. But are you sure,
That Benedick loves. Beatrice so entirely ?

Hero... So says ttie Prince, and my new-trothed Lord..
Urf. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?
dieci. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it;
But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,

To wish him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.

Urf. Why did you so? doth not the gentleman
Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed,
As ever Beatrice shall 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 fuff than that of Beatrice.
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprizing what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her
All matter else seems weak; she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared,

Urf. Sure I think fo;
And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, left the make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you fpeak truth. I never yet saw man, How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, But she would spell him backward. If fair-fac’d, ! She'd swear the gentleman should be her fifter; • If black, why, nature, drawing of an antic, • Made a foul blot; if tall, a launce ill-headed; • If low, an aglet very vilely cut; • If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; . If silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong

side

out, And never gives to truth and virtue that Which fimpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urf. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.

Hero. No; for to be so odd, and from all fashions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable,
But who dare tell her fo? If I should speak,
She’d mock me into air; O she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in fighs, waste inwardly;
It were a better death than die with mocks,
Which is as bad as 'tis to die with tickling.

Urf. Yet tell her of it; hear what she will saya
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,

6