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fy, 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 controulment; you have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta’en you newly into his grace, where it is impoffible you should 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 rose 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 muzzel, and infranchised with a clog, therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do 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 your difcontent?
? John. I will make all use of it, for I use it only. Who comes here? what news, Borachio?
Enter Borachio. Boar. I came yonder from a great supper; 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 betroths himself to unquietness ?
Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
John. A proper Squire! and who, and who? which way looks he!
Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
John. A very forward March chick! How come
you to this?
Bora. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking a musty room, comes me the Prince and Claudio hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras, and there heard it agreed 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 displeasure: 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. Conr. To the death, my lord.
, John. Let us to the great supper; their Cheer is the greater, that I am subdu'd; 'would the cook were of my
mind! shall we go prove what's to be done?
Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt.
SCENE, a Hall in Leonato's House.
Ant. I saw him not.
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. F6
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, Neice, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
Ant. In faith, she's too curst.
Beat. Too curft is more than curst; I shall lessen God's fending that way; for it is said, God fends a curst Cow fort 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 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 fix-pence in earnest of the bear-herd, and lead his apes into hell. Ant. Well, Neice, I truit, you will be rul'd by .
To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say, Father, as it pleases you; but yet for all that, Cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy, and say, Father, as it pleases me.
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 with a piece of valiant duft? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marle? no, uncle, I'll none; Adan'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 solicit you in that kind, you know
Beat. The fault will be in the music, 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 so 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 hafty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly-modelt, as a measure, full of ftate and anchentry; and then connes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into his cinque-pace faster and faster, 'till he sinks into his grave.
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 room.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and
others in Masquerade. Pedro. LADY will you walk with your friend?
Hero. So look sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walk, and especially when I walk away.
Pedro. With me in your company?
Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend, the lute should be like the case !
Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.
Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd.
Marg. So would not I for your own sake, for I have many ill qualities.
Balth. Which is one?
Balth. I love you the better, the hearers may cry Amen.
Marg. God match me with a good dancer! -
Marg. And God keep him out of my fight 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. You could never do him fo ill-well, unless you were the very man: here's his dry hand
and down; you are he, you are he.
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urf. 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
you not tell me, who told you fo?
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.