ed to hang him; for Beatrice is an excellent sweet lady, and
exceeding wise in everything but in loving Benedick." Then the prince
motioned to his companions that they should walk on, and leave Benedick
to meditate upon what he had overheard.

Benedick had been listening with great eagerness to this conversation;
and he said to himself when he heard Beatrice loved him, "Is it
possible? Sits the wind in that corner?" And when they were gone, he
began to reason in this manner with himself: "This can be no trick! they
were very serious, and they have the truth from Hero, and seem to pity
the lady. Love me! Why it must be requited! I did never think to marry.
But when I said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live
to be married. They say the lady is virtuous and fair. She is so. And
wise in everything but loving me. Why, that is no great argument of her
folly. But here comes Beatrice. By this day, she is a fair lady. I do
spy some marks of love in her." Beatrice now approached him, and said
with her usual tartness, "Against my will I am sent to bid you come in
to dinner." Benedick, who never felt himself disposed to speak so
politely to her before, replied, "Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your
pains:" and when Beatrice, after two or three more rude speeches, left
him, Benedick thought he observed a concealed meaning of kindness under
the uncivil words she uttered, and he said aloud, "If I do not take pity
on her, I am a villain. If I do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get
her picture."

The gentleman being thus caught in the net they had spread for him, it
was now Hero's turn to play her part with Beatrice; and for this purpose
she sent for Ursula and Margaret, two gentlewomen who attended upon her,
and she said to Margaret, "Good Margaret, run to the parlour; there you
will find my cousin Beatrice talking with the prince and Claudio.
Whisper in her ear, that I and Ursula are walking in the orchard, and
that our discourse is all of her. Bid her steal into that pleasant
arbour, where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, like ungrateful minions,
forbid the sun to enter." This arbour, into which Hero desired Margaret
to entice Beatrice, was the very same pleasant arbour where Benedick had
so lately been an attentive listener.

"I will make her come, I warrant, presently," said Margaret.

Hero, then taking Ursula with her into the orchard, said to her, "Now,
Ursula, when Beatrice comes, we will walk up and do