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Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy fword,
I fear thee not.

Claud. Marry, befhrew my hand,

If it should give your age fuch cause of fear;
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my fword.

Leon. Tufh, tufh, man, never fleer and jeft at me. I fpeak 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 haft fo wrong'd my innocent child and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reverence by;
And, with grey hairs, and bruife of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man :

I fay, thou haft bely'd mine innocent child,

Thy flander hath gone through and through her heart;
And the lies bury'd with her ancestors,

O, in a tomb where never fcandal flept,
Save this of her's, fram'd by thy villany!
Claud. My villany?

Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine, I fay.
Pedro. You fay not right, old man.
Leon. My Lord, my Lord,

I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;

Defpight his nice fence and his active practice,
His May of youth, and bloom of luftyhood.

Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you.
Leon. Can't thou fo doffe me? thou haft kill'd my
child;

If thou kill'ft me, boy, thou fhalt kill a man.
Ant. He fhall kill two of us, and men indeed;
But that's no matter, let him kill one firft;
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 yourfelf; God knows, I lov'd my

niece;

And she is dead, flander'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, milkfops!

Leon. Brother Anthony

Ant. "Hold you content; what, man? I know "them, yea,

"And what they weigh, even to the utmoft fcruple: "Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys, "That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave, and flander, "Go anticly, and fhow an outward hideousness, "And fpeak off half a dozen dangerous words, "How they might hurt their enemies, if they durft; "And this is all."

Leon. But, brother Anthony,

Ant. Come, 'tis no matter;

Do not you meddle, let me deal in this.

Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wrack your patience.

My heart is forry for your daughter's death;
But, on my honour, fhe was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.
Leon. My Lord, my Lord-
Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No! come, brother, away, I will be heard.
Ant. And fhall, or fome of us will fmart for it.
[Exeunt ambo.

SCENE III. Enter Benedick.

Pedro. See, fee, here comes the man we went to feek.

Claud. Now, Signior, what news?

Bene, Good day, my Lord.

Pedro. Welcome, Signior; you are almoft come to part almoft a fray.

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

Pedro. Leonato and his brother; what think'ft thou?. had we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them.

Bene. In a falfe quarrel there is no true valour: I came to feek you both.

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

Bene. It is in my fcabbard; fhall I draw it?

Pedro. Doft thou wear thy wit by thy fide?

Claud. Never any did fo, though very many have been befide their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

Pedro. As I am an honeft man, he looks pale: art -thou fick or angry

?

Claud. What! courage, man: what though care kill'd a cat, thou haft mettle enough in thee to kill care. Bene. Sir, I fhall meet your wit in the career, if you charge it against me. I pray you chufe another fubject.

Claud. Nay, then give him another ftaff; this laft was broke crofs.

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

I will make it

Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle. Bene. Shall I fpeak a word in your ear? Claud, God bless me from a challenge! Bene. You are a villain; I jeft not. good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will proteft your cowardice. You have kill'd a fweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

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

Pedro. What, a feast?

Claud. I'faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calves-head and a capon; the which if I do not carve moft curiously, fay, my knife's naught. Shall I not find a wood-cock too?

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

Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day. I faid, thou hadft a fine wit; right, fays fhe, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great wit; juft, faid fhe, a great grofs one; nay, faid I, a good wit; just, faid fhe, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, faid fhe, a wife gentleman; nay, faid I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, faid fhe, for he fwore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forfwore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue, there's two tongues. Thus did fhe an hour together

tranf-shape thy particular virtues; yet at laft fhe concluded with a figh, thou waft the properest man in Italy.

Claud. For the which the wept heartily, and faid fhe car'd not.

Pedro. Yea, that fhe did; but yet for all that, and if fhe did not hate him deadly, fhe would love him dearly; the old man's daughter fold us all.

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God faw him when he was hid in the garden.

Pedro. But when fhall we fet the falvage bull's horns on the fenfible Benedick's head?

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Benedick the married man.

Bene. Fare you well, boy, you know my mind; I will leave you now to your goffip-like humour; you break jefts as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thank'd, hurt not. My Lord, for your many courtefies I thank you; I muft difcontinue your company; your brother, the baftard, is fled from Meffina; you have among you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord Lack-beard there, he and I fhall meet; and till then, peace be with him! [Exit Benedick.

Pedro. He is in earnest,

Claud. In moft profound earneft, you, for the love of Beatrice.

Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee?
Claud. Moft fincerely.

and I'll warrant

Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hofe, and leaves off his wit!

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Enter Dogberry, Verges, Conrade and Borachio guarded.

Claud. He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a doctor to fuch a man.

Pedro. But, foft you, let me fee, pluck up my heart and be fad; did he not fay, my brother was fied?

Dogb. Come, you, Sir; if Juftice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ne'er weigh more reafons in her balance; nay,›

an you be a curfing hypocrite once, you must be look'd to.

Pedro. How now, two of my brother's men bound? Borachio one?

Claud. Hearken after their offence, my Lord.

Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done? Dogb. Marry, Sir, they have committed falfe report; moreover, they have fpoken untruths; fecondarily, they are flanders; fixth and laftly, they have bely'd a lady; thirdly, they have verify'd unjust things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.

Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; fixth and lastly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay to their charge?

Claud. Rightly reafon'd, and in his own divifion; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well-fuited.

Pedro. Whom have you offended, Mafters, that you are thus bound to your anfwer? This learned constable is too cunning to be understood. What's your offence?

I

Bora. Sweet Prince, let me go no further to mine anfwer do you hear me, and let this Count kill me. have deceiv'd even your very eyes; what your wifdoms could not discover, thefe fhallow fools have brought to light, who in the night overheard me confefling to this man, how Don John your brother incens'd me to flander the Lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and faw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you difgrac'd her, when you should marry her. My villany they have upon record, which I had rather feal with my death, than repeat over to my fhame. The Lady is dead upon mine and my mafter's falfe accufation; and, briefly, I defire nothing but the reward of a villain.

Pedro. Runs not this, fpecch like iron through your blood?

Claud. I have drunk poifon while he utter'd it. Pedio. But did my brother fet thee on to this? Bera. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it. Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery; And fled he is upon this villany.

VOL. II.

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