Bene. You are a villain; I jeft not. I will make it 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 feaft?

Claud. I'faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calve's-head and a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, fay, my knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock 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 she, a great grofs one; nay, faid I, a good wit; juft, 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 the, 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-fhape thy particular virtues; yet, at laft, fhe concluded with a figh, thou waft the propereft man in Italy. Claud. For the which the wept heartily, and faid, fhe car'd not.

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

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

Pedro. But when shall we fet the favage 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,

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 Mefina: you have among you killed a fweet 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 earnest, 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 hofe, and leaves off his wit!

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 filed?

Dogb. Come, you, Sir; if juftice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ne'er weigh more reasons 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 spoken untruths; fecondarily, they are flanders; fixth and laftly, they have bely'd a lady thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, to con clude, they are lying knaves.

Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ak thee what's their offence; fixth and laftly, 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. VOL. II,

D

Pearo.

Pedro. Whom have you offended, mafters, that you are thus bound to your anfwer? This learned conftable is too cunning to be underflood. 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 wifdoms could not discover, these shallow 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 difgrac'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 fhame; the lady is dead upon mine and my mafter's falfe accufation; and birefly, I defire nothing but the reward of a villain.

Pedro. Runs not this fpeech like iron through your blood? Claud. I have drunk poifon, while he utter'd it. Pedro. 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.

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

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

Verg. Here, here comes mafter Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.

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

Haft kill'd mine innocent child?

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not fo, villain; thou bely'ft thyself; Here stand 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 must speak: chufe your revenge yourself;
Impofe me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my fin; yet finn'd I not,
But in miftaking.

Pedro. By my foul, nor

T ;

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 Meina 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 yet my nephew; my brother hath a daughter,.
Almoft the copy of my child that's dead,

And the alone is heir to both of us;

Give her the Right you should have given her Coufin,

And fo dies my revenge.

Claud. O noble Sir!

Your over-kind nefs doth wring tears from me:
I do embrace your offer; and dispose,

For henceforth of poor Claudio.

Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your Coming, To-night I take my leave. This naughty man Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,

Who, I believe, was pack'd in all this wrong,

Hir'd to it by your

brother.

Bora. No, by my foul, fhe was not;

Nor knew not what he did, when the spoke to me.
But always hath been juft and virtuous,

In any thing that I do know by her.

Dogb. Moreover, Sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me afs: I befeech you, let it be remembred in his punishment; and alfo the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they fay, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name, the which he hath us'd fo long, and never paid, that now men grow hard hearted, and will lend nothing for God's fake. Pray you, examine him upon that point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honeft pains.

Dogb. Your Worship fpeaks like a moft thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you.

Leon. There's for thy pains.

Dogb. God fave the foundation!

Leon. Go, I difcharge thee of thy prifoner; and I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an errant knave with your Worship, which, I beseech your Worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your Worship; I wish your Worship well: God reftore you to health; 1 humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wifh'd, God prohibit it. Come, neighbour. [Exeunt. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, Lords, farewel. Ant. Farewel, my Lords; we look for you to-morrow. Pedro. We will not fail,

Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

Leon. Bring you thefe fellows on, we'll talk with
Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.

[Exeunt feverally.

SCENE