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food to my displeasure: that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; , if I can cross him any way, I bless my self every way; you are both sure, and will assist me.

Conr. To the death, my lord.

John. Let us to the great supper; their Cheer is the greater, that I am subdud; 'would the cook were of my mind! fhall we go prove what's to be done? Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt.

234 A c T II.

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$.CEN E, a Hall in Leonato's Haufe. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice,

Margaret and Urfula.

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LEONATO.
AS not Count on here at Supper?

Ant. I saw 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 disposition.

Béat. 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 says nothing : and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore .tatling.

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 mony 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 so shrewd of thy tongue.

Ant.

Ant. In faith, she's too curft.

Beat. Too curft is more than curft; I shall lefsen God's sending that way; for it is said, God sends a curft Cow short horns ; but to a Cow too curft he sends

none.

Leon. So, by being too curft, God will send you no horns.

Beat. Just, if he fend 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 keard on his face, I had rather lye in 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-gentlewoman? he that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hach 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 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 his horns on his head, and say, “ get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you

to heav'n, here's no place for you maids." So deliver I up my apes, and away to St. Peter, for the heav'ns; he thews me where the batchelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.

Ant. Well, Neice, I trust, you will be ruld by your father.

[To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Cousin's duty to make curtsie, and say, Father, as it pleases you ; but yet for all that, Cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtfie, and fay, Father, as it pleases

Leon. Well, Neice, 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

me,

master'd with a piece of valiant dust ? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marle? no, uncle, I'll none; Adam's sons 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 follicit you in that kind, you know your an{wer,

Beat. The fault will be in the musick, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time; If the Prince be too important, tell him, there is measure in every thing, and fo dance out the Answer; for 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 mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of fate and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, 'till he sinks

Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.

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

Leon. The revellers are entring, brother ; make goed

into his grave.

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room.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and

others in Masquerade, 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:

Pedro. With me in your company?
Hero. I may say so, when I please.
Pedro. And when please you to say so?

Hero. When I like your favour ; for God defend, the fute should be like the case !

Pedro. (4) My visor is Philemon's roof.; within the house is Jove.

Hero, (1) My Visor is Philemon's Roof, within the House is Love.] Thus the whole Stream of the Copics, from the first down

wards.

Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd.
Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love.
Balth. Well; I would, you did like me. (5)

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

Balth. Which is one?

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wards. I must own, this Passage for a long while appear'd very obscure to me, and gave me much Trouble in attempting to understand it. Hero says to Don Pedro, God forbid, the Lute should be like the Case! i. e. that your Face should be as homely and as course as your Mask. Upon this, Don Pedro compares his Visor to Philemon's Roof. 'Tis plain, the Poec alludes to the Story of Baucis and Philemon from Ovid: And this old Couple, as the Roman Poçt describes it, liv'd in a Thatch'd Cottage;

Stipulis do cannâ te&ta paluftri. But why, Within the House is Love! Bauçis and Philemon, 'tis true, had liv'd to old age together, in a comfortable State of Agreement. But Piety and Hospitality are the top Parts of their Chara&er. Our Poet unquestionably goes a little dçeper into the story. Tho' this old Pair liv'd in a Cottage, this Cottage receiv'd two ftraggling Gods, (Jupiter and Mercury;) under its Roof. So, Don Pedro is a Prince; and tho’his Visor is but ordinary, he would insinuate to Hero, that he has famething god-like within: alluding either to his Dignity, or the Qualities of his person and Mind. By these circumstances, I am sure, the Thought is mended : as, I think verily, the Text is too by the Change of a single Letter.

within the House is Jove. Nor is chis Emendation a little confirm'd by another Passage in our Author, in which he plainly alludes to the same Story. As you like it. Clown. I am here with thee and thy Goats, as the most capri

cious Poet, honest Ovid, was amongst the Goths. Jaq. o Knowledge ill inhabited, worse than Jove in a thatch'd

House ! (s) Balth. Well; I would, you did like me.) This and the two following little Speeches, which I have placed to Balthazar, are in all the printed Copies given to Benedick. But, 'tis clear, the Dialogue here ought to be betwixt Balthazar, ands Margaręt : Benedick, a little lower, conyerses with Beairice: and so every Man talks with his Woman once round,

Marg.

13

Marg. I say my Prayers aloud. Balth. I love you the better, the hearers may cry Amen. Marg. God match me with a good dancer! Balth. Amen.

Mary. And God keep him out of my fight when the dance is done! Answer, Clerk:

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

Urf. I know you well enough; you aré Signior Antonio.

Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urs. I know you by the wagling 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 it self? go to, mum, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end.

Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you for
Bene. No, you shall pardon me.
Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are ?'

Not now.
Beat. That'l'was disdainful, and that I had my good
Wit out of the Hundred merry Tales; well, this was
Signior Benediçk that said so.
Bene: What's he?
Beat. I am sure, you know him well enough.
Bene. Notl, 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 flanders: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his vitlany'; 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,

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Bine.

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