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say, the lady is fair ; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness : and virtuous ;
'cis so, I cannot 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. chance to have some odd quirks and remnants 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 cannot endure in his age. Shall quipps 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 batchelor, 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 fpy fome marks of love in her.
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, juft so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choak a daw withal:.
have no ito. mach, Signior; fare you well.
[Exit. Bene. Ha! against my will
, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner : there's a double meaning in that. I 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 easie 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,
SCENE continues in the Orchard.
Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.
Proposing with the Prince and Claudio;
Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant, prefently. [Exit.
Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatriçe doth come,
Enter Beatrice, running towards the Arbour,
Ursu. The pleasant'it angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the filver stream,
you not my part of the dialogue.
Ursu. But are you fure,
Hero. So says the Prince, and my new-trothed lord.
Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it;
Ursu. Why did you so ? doth not the Gentleman
Hero. O God of love! I know he doth deferve
and her wis
Ursu. Sure, I think fo;
Hero. Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,
backward ; if fair-fac'd, She'd swear, the gentleman should be her fifter ; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antick, Made a foul blot; if tall, a launce ill-headed ;
If low, an Aglet very vilely cuti (10)
Ursu. 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 so ? 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.
Urfu. Yet tell her of it ; hear what she will fay.
Hero. No, rather I will go to Benedick,
Ursu. O, do not do your Cousin such a wrong
(10) If low, an Agat'very vilely cut : ] But why an Agat, if low? And what Shadow of Likeness between a little Man and an Agat? The Ancients, indeed, used this Stone to cut in, and upon ; but most exquisitely. I make no queftion but the Poet wrote ;
an Aglet very vilely;cut;: An Aglet was the Tag of those Points, formerly so much in Fashion. These Tags were either of Gold, Silver, or Brass, according to the Quality of the Wearer; and were commonly in the Shape of little Images ; or at least had a Head cut at the Extremity, as is seen at the End of the Start of old-fashi. on'd Spoons. And as a tall Man is before compar'd to a Launce ill-beaded; ro, by the same Figure, a little Man is very aptly liken'd to an Aglet ill cut,
So rare a gentleman as Benedick.
Hero. He is the only man of Italy,
Ursu. I pray you, be not angry with me, Madam,
Hero. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
Hero. Why, every day; to morrow ; come, go in, I'll shew thee some attires, and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to morrow.
Ursu. She's lim'd, I warrant you ; we have caught her, Madam.
Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by. haps ; Some Cupids kill with arrows, Some with traps.
[Exeunt. Beatrice, advancing. Beat. What fire is in my ears ? can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for Pride and Scorn so much? Contempt, farewel! and maiden pride, adieu !
No glory lives behind the back of such. And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee;
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand ; If thou doft love, thy kindness thall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band. For others say, thou dost deserve; and I Believe it better than reportingly.
[Exito S CE N E, Leonato's House.
DO but say 'till your marriage be confummate,
. I and then ga I toward Arragox