Act 3 - Scene 1
Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA
Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor;
There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
Proposing with the prince
Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse
all of her; say that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
ripen'd by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter, like favourites,
Made proud by princes, that advance their
Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her,
To listen our purpose. This is thy office;
thee well in it and leave us alone.
I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently.
Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit:
to thee must be how Benedick
Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow
That only wounds by hearsay.
Enter BEATRICE, behind
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour
the treacherous bait:
So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
Is couched in the woodbine coverture.
you not my part of the dialogue.
Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
Approaching the bower
No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
I know her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggerds of the rock.
But are you sure
That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
So says the prince and my new-trothed lord.
And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
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