for himself, and having obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.

D. John. Come, come, let us thither; this may prove food to my displeasuse: 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 sure, and will assist me? Con. To the death, my Lord

their

D. John. Let. us to the great supper; cheer is the greater, that I am subdued: 'Would the cook were of my mind!

prove what's to be done?

Shall we go

Bora. We'll wait upon your Lordship. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A Hall in LEONATO's House.

Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and
Others.

Leon. Was not Count John here at supper?
Ant. I saw him not.

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

Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition.

Beat. He were an excellent man, that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick the one is too like an image, and says nothing; and the other, too like-my lady's eldest sou, evermore tattling.

1

Leon. Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,

Beat. With a good leg, and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man will 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 is too curst.

Beat, Too curst is more than curst: I shall fessen God's sending that way for it is said, God sends a curst cow short horns; but to a cow too curst he sends none.

Leon. So, by being too curst, 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 lie in the 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 genlewomen? 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 six-peace 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 horns on his head, and say, Get you to heaven, Bea

trice,

trice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids: so deliver I up my apes', and away. to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as

merry as the day is' long.

Ant. Well, niece, [To HERO.] I trust,' you will be ruled by your father. Beat. Yes, faith;

it is my cousin's duty to make courtesy, and say, Father, as it please you: but yet for all that, cousin, let him be à handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, Father, as it please me.

Leon. Well, nicce, 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- master'd with a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. 'Leon. Daughter, remember, what I told you: if the Prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.

For

Beat. The fault will be in the musick, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time: if the Prince be tho important, tell him, there is a measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer. hear me, Hero; Wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque- pace ■ the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, manneriymodest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.

Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.

VOL. III.

2

Beat. I have a good eye, uncle; I can see á church by day - light.

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

Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHAZAR; Don JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA, and others, mask'd.

D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend?

Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; and, especially, when I walk away.

D. Pedro. With me in your company?

Hero. I may say so, when I please.

D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend, the lute should be like the case!

D. Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove. •

Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd. D. Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love.

[Takes her aside. Bene. Well, I would you did like me...

Marg. So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill qualities.

Bene. Which is one?

Marg. I say my prayers aloud.

Bene. 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 sight, when the dance is done! Answer, clerk.

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

Urs. I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.

Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head.

Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

Urs. You could never do him so 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 Signior Benedick that said so. Bene. 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 jester: a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders: none but libertines delight him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his vil lainy; for he both pleaseth men, and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him: I am sure, he is in the fleet; I would he had boarded me.

Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him' what you say.