Bene. If their finging anfwer your faying, by my faith, you fay honestly. Pedro. the lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman, that danc'd with her, told her fhe is much wrong'd by you. Bene. O, fhe mifus'd me paft the indurance of a block; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have anfwer'd her; my very visor began to affume life, and fcold with her; fhe told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, and that I was duller than a great thaw; hudling jeft upon jeft, with fuch impaffable conveyance upon me, that I ftood like a man at a mark, with a whole army fhooting at me; fhe fpeaks Ponyards, and every word ftabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, the would infect to the North-ftar, I would not marry her, though fhe were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'd; fhe would have made Hercules have turn'd Spit, yea and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her, you fhall find her the infernal Até in good apparel. I would to God, fome fcholar fuch IMPOSSIBLE conveyance] We fhould read IMPASSABLE, A term taken from fencing, when the ftrokes are fo fwift and repeated as not to be parried or paffed off. WARB. I know not what to propose. Impoffible feems to have no mean ing here, and for impafable I have not found any author ty. Spenfer ufes the word importable in a fenfe very congruous to this paffage, for infupportable, or not to be fuftained. Both him charge on either fide With biaeous ftrokes and import able poru'r, Which forced him his ground to traverfe uide. It may be eafily imagined, that Sir Thomas Hanmer reads im- the infernal Até in good apparel.] This is a pleasant ailufion to the custom of ancient poets and painters, who reprefent the furies in raggs. WARB. O 3 would would conjure her; for, certainly, while fhe is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a fanctuary, and people fin upon purpose, because they would go thither, fo, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. SCENE V. Enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero. Pedro. Look, here fhe comes. Bene. Will your Grace command me any fervice to the world's end? I will go on the flighteft errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devife to fend me on; I will fetch you a tooth picker now from the fartheft inch of Afia; bring you the length of Prefer John's foot fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard: do you any ambaffage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy; you have no employment for me? Pedro. None, but to defire your good company. Bene. O God, Sir, here's a dish I love not. I cannot indure this Lady Tongue. Pedro Come, Lady, come; you have loft the heart of Signior Benedick. Beat. Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and I gave him ufe for it, a double heart for a fingle one; marry, once before he won it of me with falfe dice, therefore your Grace may well fay, I have loft it. Pedro. You have put him down, Lady, you have put him down. Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, left I fhould prove the mother of fools; I have brought Count Claudio, whom you fent me to feek. Pedro. Why, how now, Count, wherefore are you fad? Claud. Not fad, my Lord. Claud Claud. Neither, my Lord. Beat. The Count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well; but civil, Count, civil as an orange, and fomething of that jealous complexion. Pedro. I'faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained; name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy. Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his Grace hath made the match, and all grace fay, Amen, to it. Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue. Claud. Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy; I were but little happy, if I could fay how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you, and doat upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, Coufin, or (if you cannot) ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak neither. Pedro. In faith, Lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. Yea, my Lord, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy fide of care; my coufin tells him in his ear, that he is in her heart. Claud. And fo fhe doth, coufin. Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! -'thus goes every 1 Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am funburnt.] What is it, to go to the world? perhaps, to enter by marriage into a fettled ftate: but why is the unmarried Lady funburnt? I believe we fhould read, thus goes every one to the wood but 1, and I am funburnt. Thus does every one but I find a fhelter, and I am left expofed to wind and fun. The nearest way to the wood, is a phrafe for the readieft means to any end. It is faid of a woman, who accepts a worse match than those which she had refused, that fhe has paffed through the wood, and at last taken a crooked flick. But conjectural criticism has always fomething to abate its confidence. Shakespeare, in All's well that ends well, ufes the phrase, to go to the world, for marriage. So that my emendation depends only on the oppofition of wood to fun-burut. one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd; I may fit in a corner, and cry heigh bo! for a hufbaud. Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. Beat. I would rather have one of your Father's getting: hath your Grace ne'er a brother like you? your Father got excellent Hufbands, if a maid could come by them. Pedro. Will you have me, Lady? Beat. No, my Lord, unless I might have another for working days; your Grace is too costly to wear every-day but, I beseech your Grace, pardon me, I was bound to fpeak all mirth and no matter. Pedro. Your filence moft offends me, and to be merry beft becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, fure, my Lord, my mother cry'd; but then there was a ftar danc'd, and under that I was born. Coufins, God give you joy. Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy, Uncle: by your Grace's pardon. [Exit Beatrice. SCENE VI. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited Lady. Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my Lord; fhe is never fad but when fhe fleeps, and not ever fad then; for I have heard my daughter fay, fhe hath often dream'd of an unhappiness, and wak'd herfelf with laughing. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. e hath often dream'd of unhappiness, So all the editions; but Mr. Theobald's alters it to, an happiness, having no conception that unhappiness meant any thing but misfortune, and that he thinks the could not laugh at. He had never heard that it fig nified a wild, wanton, unlucky -Mydreamslare like my thoughts, WARBURTON. Leon. O, by no means, fhe mocks all her wooers out of fuit. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themselves mad. Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church? Claud. To-morrow, my Lord; time goes on crutches, 'till love have all its rites. Leon. Not 'till Monday, my dear fon, which is hence a just seven-night, and a time too brief too, to have all things anfwer my mind. 3 Pedro. Come, you shake the head at fo long a breathing; but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time fhall not go dully by us. I will in the Interim undertake one of Hercules's labours, which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other; I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not to fafhion it, if you three will but minifter fuch affiftance as I fhall give you direction. Leon. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights watchings. Claud. And I, my Lord. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero? Hero. I will do any modeft office, my Lord, to help my Coufin to a good husband. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefulleft husband that I know: thus far I can praise him, he is of a noble ftrain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd honesty. 3 To bring Benedick and Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other.] A mountain of affection with one another is a ftrange expreffion, yet I know not well how to change it. Perhaps it was originally written, to bring Benedick and Beatrice into a mooting of affectim; to bring them, not to any more |