« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
Hero. Why, then your vifor fhould be thatch’d.
Marg. So would not I for your own fake, for I have many ill qualities.
Balth. Which is one?
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! Balib. Amen. Marg. And God keep him out of my fight when the dance is done! Answer, Clerk.
Balth. No more words, the clerk is anfwer'd.
Urf. I know you well enough ; you are Signior Antonio.
Ant. At a word, I am not.
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. Urf. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you by your excellent wit ? can virtue hide it felf? go to, mum, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end.
Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you so?
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.
Bene. What's he?
Beat. Why, he is the Prince's jefter ; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising impoffible flanders: none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; 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,