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Coufins, you know what you have to do. (several cross the fege here.] O, I cry you mercy, friend, go you with me and I will use your skill ; good Cousin, have a care this busy time.


SCENE changes to an Apartment in

Leonato's House.

Enter Den John and Conrad. Conr. VIHAT the good-jer, my lord, why are you

thus out of measure sad? John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, therefore the sadness is without limit.

Conr. You should hear reason.

John. And when I have heard it, what blessing bringeth it.

Conr. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance.

John. I wonder, that thou (being, as thou fay'ft thou art, born under Saturn) goeft about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief: I cannot hide what I am : I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at no man's jefts; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure ; sleep when I am drowsy, and tend on no man's business ; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour,

Conr. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this, 'till you may do it without controlment; you have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace, where it is impoffible you thould take root, but by the fair weather that you make yourself; it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest.

John. I had rather be'a canker in a hedge, than a role in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdain’d of all, than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man) it must not be deny'd but I am a plain-dealing villain ; I am trusted with a muzzle, and infranchised with a clog, therefore I have decreed


not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite ; if had my liberty, I would co my liking : in the mean time let me be that I am, and seek not to

alter me.

Conr. Can you make no use of


discontent ? John. I will make ail use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? what



Enter Borachio. Bora. I came yonder from a great fupper; the Prince, your brother, is royally entertain'd by Leonato, and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage.

John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on? what is he for a fool, that betioths himielf to unquietness

Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
John. Who, the most exquisite Claudio ?
Bora. Even he.
John. A proper Squire! and who, and who? which

way looks he ?

Jobn. A

Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.


forward Murce chick! How come you to this?

Bora. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was Sinoak ng a mufty room, comes me the Prince and Claudio hand in hand in fad conference: I whipt behina the arias, and there heard it a reed upon, that the prince should woo Hero for himself; and having obtain'd her, give her to Count Claudio.

John. Come, come, let us thither, this may prove food to my di pleasure : that young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow; if I can cross him any way, I bless myielf every way; you are both fure, and will aslift me.

Conr. To the death, my lord.

John. Let us to the great fupper; their cheer is the greater, that I am subdu'd; would the cook were of my mind! -fall we go prove what's to be done?

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


А ст ІІ. SCENE, a Hall in Leonato's House.

Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice,

Margaret and Ursula,


AS not Count John here at fupper ?

Ant. I saw him not. Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks ! I never cam fee 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 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 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, Niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.

Ant. In faith, she's too curft,

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


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

Beat. Juft, if he fend me no husband; for the which Blefling 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 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 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 fixpence 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,


away to St. Peter, for the heav'ns ; he shews me where the bachelors fit, and there live we. as merry as the day is long.

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

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

Leon. Well, Niece, 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 overmaster'd with a piece of valiant duft ? to make account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? 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


your an fwer.

Beat. The fault will be in the musick, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time; (4) if the Prince be too.

impor(4) If tbe Prince be too importunate.) This is the reading only of Mr. Pope's impreffions, as I can find, and warranted by none of


important, tell him, there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the Anfiver: 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 Scotcb jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly-modeft, as a measure, full of state and anchentry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace falter and faster, 'till he finks into

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 good

his grave.


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 lute should be like the case !

Pedro. (5) My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Joves


the copies. I have restor’d with all the old books, important ; i. e. if the prince be too forcible, pressing, lays too much stress on his Suit, &c. The poet employs this word again, in the like fignifie cation, in K. Lear,

-therefore great France My mourning, and important tears hath pitied. (5) My visor is Philemon's roof, witbin the bouse is Love.] Thus the whole stream of the copies, from the first downwards." I must own, this paffage for a long while appear'd very obscure to me, and gave me much trouble in attempting to understand it. Hero says to Don Pedrc, God forbid, the lute hould be like the case ! i. e. that your face should be as homely and as coarse as your mask. Upon this, Don Pedro compares his visor to Philemon's roof. "Tis

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