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Leon. So, by being too curft, God will send you no horns.
Beat. Juft, if he fend me no Hufband; for the which Bleffing 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 lye in woollen.
•Leon. You may light upon a husband, that hath no beard.
Beat. What fhould 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 lefs 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, Niece, I truft, you will be rul'd by your father.
[To Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Coufin's duty to make curtfie, and fay, Father, as it pleafes you; but yet for all that, Coufin, let him be a handfome fellow, or elfe make another curtfie, and fay, Father, as it pleafes me. Leon. Well, Niece, I hope to fee you one day fitted with a husband.
Beat. Not 'till God make men of fome other metal than earth; would it not grieve a woman to be over-mafter'd with a piece of valiant duft? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marle ? no, nncle, 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 do not deferve indeed fo honourable a place yet I am afraid they are too much in the manner of our author, who is fometimes trifling to purchase merriment at too dear a rate.
9 Well then, &c. -] Of the two next speeches Mr. Warburton fays, All this impious nonfenfe thrown to the bottom is the players, and foifted in without rhyme or reafon. He therefore puts them in the margin. They
the Prince do follicit you in that kind, anfwer.
you know your
Beat. The fault will be in the mufick, coufin, if you be not woo'd in good time; If the Prince be too important, tell him, there is meafure in every thing, and fo dance out the Anfwer; for hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace; the first fuit is hot and hafty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly-modeft, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace fafter and faster, 'till he finks into his grave.
Leon. Cousin, you apprehend paffing fhrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle, I can fee a church by day-light.
Leon. The revellers are entring, brother; make good room.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and others, in Mafquerade.
Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? Hero. So you walk foftly, and look fweetly, and fay nothing, I am yours for the walk, and efpecially when I walk away.
Pedro. With me in your company?
Hero. I may fay so, when I please.
Pedro. And when please you to fay fo?
Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend, the lute fhould be like the cafe !
Pedro. My vifor is Philemon's roof; within the houfe is Jove.
the whole Stream of the Copies, from the first downwards. Hero fays to Don Pedro. God forbid, the Lute fhould be like the Cafe!
Hero. Why, then your visor should be thatch'd.
Balth. Well, I would, you did like me 2.
Marg. So would not I for your own fake, for I have many ill qualities.
Balth. Which is one?
Marg. I fay my Prayers aloud.
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! Anfwer, Clerk.
Balth. No more words, the clerk is anfwer'd.
1. ea that your Face fhould be as homely and as coarfe as your Mafk. Upon this, Don Pedro compares his Vifor to Philemon's Roof. 'Tis plain, the Poet alJudes to the Story of Baucis and Philemon from OVID: And this old Couple, as the Roman Poet defcribes it, liv'd in a thatch'd Cottage;
Stipulis & canna tecta paluftri: But why, Within the Houfe is Love? Though this old Pair lived in a Cottage, this Cottage received two fraggling Gods, (Jupiter and Mercury,) under its Roof. So, Don Pedro is a Prince; and though his Vifor is but ordinary, he would infinuate to Hero, that he has fomething godlike within alluding either to his Dignity, or the Qualities of his Perfon and Mind. By these Circumftances, I am fure, the Thought is mended: as, I think verily, the Text is too by the Change of a fingle Letter.
within the House is Jove.
Nor is this Emendation a little confirmed by another Paffage in our Author, in which he plainly alludes to the fame Story. As you like it.
Clown. I am here with thee and thy Goats, as the most capricious Poet, boneft Ovid, was amongst the Goths.
Jaq. O Knowledge ill inhabited, worse than Jove in a thatch'd House! THEOBALD.
This emendation, thus impreffed with all the power of his eloquence and reafon, Theobald had in the 4to edition of 1600, which he profeffes to have
2 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 be twixt Balthazar, and Margaret : Benedick, a little lower, converfes with Beatrice: and fo every Man talks with his Woman once round. THEOBALD,
Urf. I know you well enough; you are Signior.
Ant. At a word, I am not.
Urf. I know you by the wagling of
the wagling of your head. Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
Urf. You could never do him fo ill-well, unlefs 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.
Urf. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you by your excellent wit? can virtue hide itfelf? go to, mum, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end.
Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you fo?
Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are?
Beat. That I was difdainful, and that I had my good Wit out of the Hundred merry Tales'; well, this was Signior Benedick that faid so.
Bene. What's he?
Beat. I am fure, 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 jefter; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devifing impoffible flanders +: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany 5; for he both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they
laugh at him, and beat him; I am fure, he is in the fleet; I would, he had boarded me.
Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you fay.
Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparison or two on me; which, peradventure, not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, ftrikes him into melancholy, and then there's a partridge wing fav'd, for the fool will eat no fupper that night. We must follow the leaders.
Bene. In every good thing.
Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning.
Manent John, Borachio, and Claudio.
John. Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it: the ladies follow her, and but one vifor remains.
Bora. And that is Claudio; I know him by his Bearing.
John. Are you Signior Benedick?
Claud. You know me well, I am he.
John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love, he is enamour'd on Hero; I pray you diffuade him from her, she is no equal for his birth; you may do the part of an honest man in it.
Claud. How know ye, he loves her?
John. I heard him fwear his affection.
Bora. So did I too, and he fwore he would marry her to night.
John. Come, let us to the banquet.
[Exeunt John and Bora Claud. Thus anfwer I in name of Benedick, But hear this ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain fo-the Prince wooes for himself.