Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than tis: for I hear as good exclamation on your worship, as of any man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.

Verg. And so am I.

Leon. I would fain know what you have to say. Verg. Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting your worship's presence, have taken a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina.

Dogb. A good old man, sir; he will be talking; as they say, When the age is in, the wit is out; God help us! it is a world to see!'-Well said, i'faith, neighbour Verges:-well, God's a good man; an two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind:-an honest soul, i'faith, sir; by my troth he is, as ever broke bread: but, God is to be worshipped: all men are not alike; alas, good neigh

bour!

Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you.

Dogb. Gifts, that God gives.
Leon. I must leave you.

Dogb. One word, sir: our watch, sir, have, indeed, comprehended two auspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship.

Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you.

Leon. I dare make his answer, none. Claud. O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do! Bene. How now! interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as, ha! ha! he!

Claud. Stand thee by, friar:-Father, by your
leave;

Will you with free and unconstrained soul
Give me this maid, your daughter?

Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me.
Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose
worth,

May counterpoise this rich and precious gift.
D. Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.
Claud. Sweet prince, you learn me noble thank-
fulness.-

There, Leonato, take her back again;
Give not this rotten orange to your friend;
She's but the sign and semblance of her honour :-
Behold, how like a maid she blushes here:
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Comes not that blood, as modest evidence,
To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear,
All you that see her, that she were a maid,
By these exterior shows? But she is none:
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed:
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
Leon. What do you mean, my lord?
Claud.
Not to be married,

Dogb. It shall be suffigance.
Leon. Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well. Not knit my soul to an approved wanton.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leon. I will wait upon them; I am ready. [Exeunt Leonato and Messenger. Dogb. Go, good partner, go; get you to Francis Seacol, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the gaol; we are now to examination these men. Verg. And we must do it wisely.

Dogb. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you; here's that [Touching his forehead.] shall drive some of them to a non com only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the goal. [Exeunt.

Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof
Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginity,

-

Claud. I know what you would say; If I have
known her,

And so extenuate the 'forehand sin:
You'll say, she did embrace me as a husband.
No, Leonato,

never tempted her with word too large;"
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd'
Bashful sincerity, and comely love.

Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
You seem to me as Dian in her orb;
Claud. Out on thy seeming! I will write against it:
As chaste as in the bud ere it be blown;

But
you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in savage sensuality.
Hero. Is my lord well, that he doth speak so
wide ?4

Leon. Sweet prince, why speak not you?
D. Pedro.
What should I speak ?

I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common stale.
Leon. Are these things spoken? or do I but dream?
D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things
are true.

Bene. This looks not like a nuptial.
Hero.

True, O God!
Claud. Leonato, stand I here ?
Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother?
Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own?

Leon. All this is so; but what of this, my lord?
Claud. Let me but move one question to your

daughter;

And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.

Leon. I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
Hero. O God defend me! how am I beset!-
What kind of catechizing call you this?
Claud. To make you answer truly to your name,

(4) Remote from the business in hand.

Maintain a mourning ostentation;
And on your family's old monument
Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
That appertain unto a burial.

Leon. What shall become of this? What will
this do?

Friar. Marry, this, well carried, shall on her
behalf

Change slander to remorse; that is some good:
But not for that dream I on this strange course,
But on this travail look for greater birth.
She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
Upon the instant that she was accus'd,
Shall be lamented, pitied, and excus'd,
Of every hearer: for it so falls out,

Beat. As strange as the thing I know not: it were as possible for me to say, I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing:-I am sorry for my cousin.

Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
Beat. Do not swear by it, and eat it.

Bene. I will swear by it, that you love me; and I will make him eat it, that says, I love not you.

Beat. Will you not eat your word?

Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it.
I protest I love thee.

Beat. Why then, God forgive me!
Bene. What offence, sweet Beatrice?

Beat. You have staid me in a happy hour; I was about to protest I loved you.

Bene. And do it with all thy heart.

That what we have we prize not to the worth,
Whiles' we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost,
Why, then we rack the value; then we find
The virtue, that possession would not show us
Whiles it was ours:-So will it fare with Clau-none is left to protest.

dio:

When he shall hear she died upon his words,
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep

Into his study of imagination; ̧

And every lovely organ of her life

Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit,
More moving-delicate, and full of life,
Into the eye and prospect of his soul,

Than when she liv'd indeed :-then shall he mourn
(If ever love had interest in his liver,)
And wish he had not so accused her;

No, though he thought his accusation true.
Let this be so, and doubt not but success
Will fashion the event in better shape
Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
But if all aim but this be levell'd false,
The supposition of the lady's death
Will quench the wonder of her infamy:
And, if it sort not well, you may conceal her
(As best befits her wounded reputation,)
In some reclusive and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.

Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you:
And though you know my inwardness and love
Is very much unto the prince and Claudio,
Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
As secretly, and justly, as your soul
Should with your body.

Leon.

Being that I flow in grief,
The smallest twine may lead me.
Friar. 'Tis well consented; presently away;
For to strange sores strangely they strain the

Beat. I love you with so much of my heart, that

Bene. Come, bid me do any thing for thee.
Beat. Kill Claudio.

Bene. Ha! not for the wide world.

Beat. You kill me to deny it: farewell.

Bene. Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

Beat. I am gone, though I am here;-there is no love in you:-nay, I pray you, let me go. Bene. Beatrice,

Beat. In faith I will go.

Bene. We'll be friends first.

Beat. You dare easier be friends with me, than fight with mine enemy.

Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy?

Beat. Is he not approv'd in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?-0, that I were a man!-What! bear her in hands until they come to take hands; and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unn.itigated rancour,-O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice ;—

Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ? a proper saying!

Bene. Nay but, Beatrice;

Beat. Sweet Hero!-she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.

Bene. Beat

Beat. Princes, and counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly count-confect; a sweet gallant, surely! O that were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercu Perhaps, is but prolong'd; have patience, and les, that only tells a lie, and swears it :-I cannot endure. [Exe. Friar, Hero, and Leon. be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woBene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this man with grieving.

cure.

Come, lady, die to live: this wedding day,

while?

Beat. You have no reason, I do it freely.
Bene. Surely, I do believe your fair cousin is
wrong'd.

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me, that would right her!

Bene. Is there any way to show such friendship?
Beat. A very even way, but no such friend.
Bene. May a man do it?

Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice: by this hand I love thee.

Beat. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

Bene. Think you in your soul the count Claudio hath wronged Hero?

Beat. Yea, as sure as I have a thought, or a soul.

Bene. Enough, I am engaged, I will challenge him; I will kiss your hand, and so leave you: by this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account: as you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as your cousin: I must say, she is dead; and so fareyou; is not that strange? well.

Beat. It is a man's office, but not yours.

[Exeunt.

Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be
examined? let them come before master constable.
Dogb. Yea, marry, let them come before me.-
What is your name, friend?
Bora. Borachio.

Verg. Let them be in band.'
Con. Off, coxcomb!

Dogb. God's my life! where's the sexton?'let him write down-the prince's officer, coxcomb.Come, bind them:-Thou naughty varlet!

Con. Away you are an ass, you are an ass. Dogb. Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my years?-O that he were here to write me down-an ass!-but, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass :-No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. I am a wise fellow; and, which is more, an officer; and, which is more,

Dogb. Pray write down-Borachio.-Yours, a householder: and, which is more, as pretty a sirrah?

Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.

Dogb. Write down-master gentleman Conrade.-Masters, do you serve God?

Con. Bora. Yea, sir, we hope.

Dogb. Write down-that they hope they serve God:-and write God first; for God defend but God should go before such villains!-Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false

piece of flesh as any is in Messina; and one that knows the law, go to; and a rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath had losses; and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handsome about him :-Bring him away. O, that I had been [Exeunt.

writ down-an ass.

ACT V.

knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. SCENE I-Before Leonato's house. How answer you for yourselves?

Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none. Dogb. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you but I will go about with him.-Come you hither, sirrah; a word in your ear, sir; I say to you, it is thought you are false knaves.

Bora. Sir, I say to you, we are none. Dogb. Well, stand aside.-'Fore God, they are both in a tale: have you writ down-that they are

none?

to

Sexton. Master constable, you go not the way examine; you must call forth the watch that are their accusers.

Leonato and Antonio.

Enter

And 'tis not wisdom, thus to second grief
Ant. If you go on thus, you will kill yourself;
Against yourself.

Leon.

I pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve: give not me counsel; Nor let no comforter delight mine car, But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. Bring me a father, that so lov'd his child, Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine, And bid him speak of patience; Measure his wo the length and breadth of mine, And let it answer every strain for strain; As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, such a one will smile, and stroke his beard; In every lineament, branch, shape, and form: Dogb. Write down-prince John a villain.- Cry-sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should groan, Why this is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother-Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortunes drunk With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience.

in

Dogb. Yea, marry, that's the eftest way :-Let the watch come forth:-Masters, I charge you, the prince's name, accuse these men.

I Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's brother, was a villain.

villain.

Bora, Master constable,

If

Dogb. Pray thee, fellow, peace; I do not like But there is no such man: For, brother, men thy look, I promise thee.

Sexton. What heard you him say else?

2 Watch. Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of Don John, for accusing the lady Here wrongfully.

Dogb. Flat burglary, as ever was committed.
Verg. Yea, by the mass, that it is.

Serton. What else, fellow?

Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Charm ache with air, and agony with words:
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow;

Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency,
upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole
assembly, and not marry her.

Dogb. O villain! thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this. Sexton. What else?

To be so moral, when he shall endure
The like himself: therefore give me no counsel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement,

Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ.
Leon. I pray thee, peace: I will be flesh and

blood;

For there was never yet philosopher,
That could endure the tooth-ach patiently;
However they have writ the style of gods,"
And made a pish at chance and sufferance.

Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself:
Make those, that do offend you, suffer too.
Leon. There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will
do so.

My soul doth tell me, Hero is belied;
And that shall Claudio know, so shall the prince,

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

And all of them, that thus dishonour her.

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio.

Ant. Here comes the prince, and Claudio, hastily.
D. Pedro. Good den, good den.
Claud.
Good day to both of you.
Leon. Hear you my lords,-
D. Pedro. We have some haste, Leonato.
Leon. Some haste, my lord!-well, fare you
well, my lord:

Are you so hasty now?-well, all is one.
D. Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good

old man.

Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling, Some of us would lie low.

Claud.

Leon.

Who wrongs him?

Marry,

Thou, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou:
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword,
I fear thee not.

Claud.

Marry, beshrew my hand,
If it should give your age such cause of fear:
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
Leon. Tush, tush, man, never fleer and jest at me:
I speak not like a dotard, nor a fool;
As, under privilege of age, to brag
What I have done being young, or what would do,
Were I not old: Know, Claudio, to thy head,
Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reverence by ;
And, with gray hairs, and bruise of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man.

I say, thou hast belied mine innocent child;
Thy slander hath gone through and through her
heart,

And she lies buried with her ancestors:
O! in a tomb where never scandal slept,
Save this of her's framed by thy villany.
Claud. My villany?

Leon.
Thine, Claudio; thine I say.
D. Pedro. You say not right, old man.
Leon.
I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;
My lord, my lord,
Despite his nice fence, and his active practice,'
His May of youth, and bloom of lustyhood.
Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you.
Leon. Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill'd

my child;

If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.

Ant. He shall kill two of us, and men indeed: But that's no matter; let him kill one first :Win me and wear me,-let him answer me,Come, follow me, boy; come, boy, follow me :Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence; Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother,

Ant. Content yourself: God knows, I lov'd my

niece;

And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains;
That dare as well answer a man, indeed,
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue :
Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!-
Leon.
Brother Antony,-
Ant. Hold you content; What, man! I know

them, yea,

And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
Scrambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander,
Go anticly, and shew outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.

(1) Skill in fencing. (2) Thrusting.

Leon. But, brother Antony,
Ant.

135

Come, 'tis no matter;

Do not you meddle, let me deal in this.

D. Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake
My heart is sorry for your daughter's death;
your patience.
But, on my honour, she was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.
Leon. My lord, my lord,-
D. Pedro.
Leon.

I will not hear you.

Brother, away:—I will be heard ;—

Ant.

Or some of us will smart for it.

No?And shall,

[Exeunt Leonato and Antonio. Enter Benedick.

D. Pedro. See, see, here comes the man we went to seek.

Claud. Now, signior! what news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

D. Pedro. Welcome, signior: You are almost come to part almost a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two noses snapped off with two old men without teeth.

think'st thou ? Had we fought, I doubt, we should D. Pedro. Leonato and his brother: What have been too young for them.

I

Bene. In a false quarrel there is no true valour. came to scok you both.

Claud. We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high-proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away: Wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene. It is in my scabbard; shall I draw it?
D. Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side ?
Claud. Never any did so, though very many
have been beside their wit.-I will bid thee draw
as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

Art thou sick or angry?
D. Pedro. As I am an honest man, he looks pale:

Claud. What! courage, man! What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill

care.

Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an you charge it against me :-I pray you, choose another subject.

Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last was broke cross.

D. Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more: I think, he be angry indeed.

Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.' Bene. Shall I speak a word in your ear? Claud. God bless me from a challenge! Bene. You are a villain; I jest not:-I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, when you dare:-Do me right, or I will protest and her death shall fall heavy on you: Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

D. Pedro. What, a feast? a feast?

a calf's-head and a capon; the which if I do not
Claud. I'faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to
Shall I not find a woodcock too?
carve most curiously, say, my knife's naugnt.-

Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.

D. Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the other day: I said, thou hadst a fine wit; wit; Right, says she, a grea! gross one: Nay, said True, says she, a fine little one: No, said I, a great I, a good wit: Just, said she, it hurts nobody=

(3) To give a challenge. (4) Invited.