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Leon. Brother Anthony

Ant. "Hold you content; what, man? I know them, 66 yea,

"And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
"Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys,
"That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and flander,
"Go antickly, and fhow an outward hideoufnefs,
"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 amba

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 almost a fray.

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

Pedro. Leonato and his brother; what think'ft thou? had we fought, I doubt we fhould 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,

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 minftrels; draw, to pleasure us.

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

Claud. What! courage, man: what tho' 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 againft me.I pray you chufe another fubject.

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

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 fpeak a word in your ear?

Claud. God blefs me from a challenge!

I will make it

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 fhall 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. ' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calves-head and a capon; the which if I do not carve most 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; just, said fhe, a great grofs one; nay, faid 1, 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 1, 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

tranf-shape thy particular virtues; yet at laft fhe concluded with a figh, thou waft the propereft man in 1taly.

Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and faid the 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 told us all.

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

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

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Benedia 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 thank you; I must discontinue your company; your brother, the baftard, is fled, from Meffina; you have among you killed a fweet and innocent lady. For Lord Lack-beard there, he and I fhall meet; my and till then, peace be with him! [Exit Benedick.

Pedro. He is in earnest.

Claud. In most profound earnell, and, I'll warrant you, for the love of Beatrice.

Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee?

Claud. Moft fincerely.

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

SCENE IV.

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 fled?

Dogb. Come you, Sir; if Justice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ue'er weigh more reasons in her balance; nay,

an

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-suited.

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

Bora. Sweet Prince, let me go no further to mine anfwer: do you hear me, and let this Count kill me. I have deceiv'd even your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these fhallow fools have brought to light, who in the night overheard me confeffing 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 disgrac'd her, when you fhould marry her. My villany they have upon record, which I had rather feal with my death, than repeat over to my shame. 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 fpeech like iron through your

blood?

Claud. I have drunk poison while he utter'd it. Pedro. But did my brother fet thee on to this? Bora. 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.

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Claud

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare femblance that I lov'd it firft.

Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our Sexton hath reform'd Signior Leonato of the matter; and, Masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place fhall serve, that I am an ass.

Verg. Here, here cómes Master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.

SCENE V. Enter Leonato and Sexton. Leon. Which is the villain? let me fee his eyes. That when I note another man like him,

"I may avoid him; which of these is he?"

Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on me. Leon. Art thou, art thou the flave, that with thy breath

Haft kill'd mine innocent child?

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not fo, villain, thou bely'st thyself; Here ftand a pair of honourable men,

A third is fled, that had a hand in it.

I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death;
Record it with your high and worthy deeds;
'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.

Claud. I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I muft fpeak: Chufe your revenge yourself;
Impose me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my fin. Yet finn'd I not,
But in mistaking.

Pedro. By my foul, nor I;

And yet, to fatisfy this good old man,

I would bend under any heavy weight,

That he'll enjoin me to.

Leon. You cannot bid my daughter live again; That were impoffible; but, I pray you both,

Poffefs the people in Meffina here

How innocent the dy'd; and if your love
Can labour aught in fad invention,
Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,
And fing it to her bones; fing it to-night:
To-morrow morning come you to my houfe;
And fince you could not be my fon-in-law,

Be

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