Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and Urfula.

W

LEON AT O.

AS not count John here at fupper?

Ant. I faw him not.

Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an hour after.

Hero. He is of a very melancholy difpofition.

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 fays nothing; and the other too like my lady's eldest fon, evermore tattling.

Leon. Then half fignior Benedick's tongue in count John's mouth, and half count John's melancholy in fignior 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; and I shall leffen 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 send me no husband; 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 lye in woollen.

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

Beat.

Beat. What should I do with him? drefs 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 bearherd, and lead his apes to 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 fay, get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heav'n, here's no place for you maids: fo deliver I up my apes, and away to faint Peter, for the heav'ns; he shows me where the bachelors fit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.

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 court'fy, and fay, as it pleafe you; but yet for all that, coufin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another court'sy, and say, father, as it pleafes me.

Leon. Well, neice, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.

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 wayward 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 mufick, coufin, if you be not woo'd in good time: if the prince be too importunate, tell him, there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer: for hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting, is a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the firft fuit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerlymodeft, as a measure, full of ftate and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinquepace fafter and fafter, till he finks into his grave. L112

Leon.

Leon. Coufin, you apprehend paffing fhrewdly.

Beat. I have a good eye, uncle; I can fee a church by daylight.

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

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

Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? Hero. So you walk foftly, and look fweetly, and fay nothing, I am yours for the walk; and, especially, when I walk away. Pedro. With me in your company?

Hero. I may fay fo when I pleafe.

Pedro. And when please you to fay fo?

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

Pedro. My vifor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. Hero. Why then your visor fhould be thatch'd.

Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love.*

[Drawing her afide to whisper. 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 done! anfwer, clerk.

Balth. No more words; the clerk is anfwer'd.

Urf. I know you well enough; you are fignior Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urf. I know you by the wagling of your head.

This feems to be a line quoted from a fong or fome verfes commonly known at that time.

Ant.

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 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 so?
Bene. No, you shall pardon me.

Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?
Bene. Not now.

Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of The hundred merry tales; well, this was fignior Benedick that faid fo.

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 jester; a very dull fool; only his gift is in devifing impoffible 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 fure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me.

Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. 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 must follow the leaders. Bene. In every good thing.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE III.

Mufick for the Dance.

John. Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with 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 not you fignior Benedick?

Claudio. 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, she is no equal for his birth; you may do the part of an honest man in it.

Claud. How know you he loves her?

John. I heard him swear 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 Bora.
Claud. Thus anfwer 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, ufe your own tongues!

Let every eye negotiate for itself,

And trust 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 business, count.

What