Nor fortune made such havock of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall find, awaked in such a kind,
Both strength of limb, and policy of mind,
Ability in means, and choice of friends,
To quit me of them throughly.

Friar.

Pause a while,

And let my counsel sway you in this case.
Your daughter here the princes left for dead.
Let her awhile be secretly kept in,

1

And publish it, that she is dead indeed;
Maintain a mourning ostentation;
And on your family's old monument
Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
That appertain unto à 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 maintained,
Upon the instant that she was accused,
Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused,
Of every hearer; for it so falls out,

That what we have, we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enjoy it; but being lacked 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 Claudio
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 apparelled in more precious habit,

More moving-delicate, and full of life,

Into the eye and prospect of his soul,

Than when she lived indeed. Then shall he mourn,

1 Show, appearance.

2 i. e. raise to the highest pitch.

VOL. I.

61

(If ever love had interest in his liver,1)
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 levelled 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. Seignior Leonato, let the friar advise
And though, you know, my inwardness and love
Is very much unto the prince and Claudio,
Yet, by mine honor, I will deal in this
As secretly, and justly, as your soul
Should with your body.

Leon.

2

you:

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

cure.

Come, lady, die to live: this wedding day

Perhaps is but prolonged; have patience, and endure.

[Exeunt Friar, HERO, and LEONATO. Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while ? Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

Bene. I will not desire that.

Beat. You have no reason; I do it freely.

Bene. Surely, I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

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.

1 The liver was anciently supposed to be the seat of love.
2 Intimacy.

Bene. May a man do it?

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

Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you; is not that strange?

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 stayed me in a happy hour. I was

about to protest I loved you.

Bene. And do it with all thy heart.

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

none is left to protest.

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.

Bene. Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

Farewell.

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 approved in the height a villain,a

1 i. e. "I am in reality absent, for my heart is gone from you, though I remain in person before you."

? So, in K. Henry VIII.: "He's a traitor to the height.”

that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman?-O, that I were a man!--What! bear her in hand' until they come to take hands; and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancor,—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 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

2

4

Beat. Princes, and counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly count-confect!3 A sweet gallant, surely! O that I 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, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim 5 ones too. He is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and swears it.-1 cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. 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. of me, so think of me. Go, comfort I must say she is dead; and so farewell.

As you hear your cousin; [Exeunt.

5 Trim seems here to signify apt, fair-spoken. Tongue used in the singular, and trim ones in the plural, is a mode of construction not uncommon in Shakspeare.

SCENE II. A Prison.

Enter DOGBERRY, VERGES,' and Sexton, in gowns; and the Watch, with CONRADE and BORACHIO.

Dogb. Is our whole dissembly appeared?
Verg. O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton!
Sexton. Which be the malefactors?

Dogb. Marry, that am I and my partner.

Verg. Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition to examine.

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.

Dogb. Pray write down-Borachio.-Yours, 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 knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. 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;

1 Throughout this scene the names of Kempe and Cowley, two celebrated actors of the time, are put for Dogberry and Verges in the old editions.

2 This is a blunder of the constable's, for "examination to exhibit." In the last scene of the third act, Leonato says, "Take their examination yourself, and bring it me."