Imatges de pÓgina

round underborne with a bluish tinfel; but for à fine, queint, graceful, and excellent fashion, your's is worth

ten on't.

Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy!

Marg. Twill be heavier foon by the weight of a man. Hero. Fie upon thee, art not afham'd?

Marg. Of what, Lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar is not your Lord honourable without marriage? I think you would have me fay (faving your reverence) a husband. If bad thinking do not wreft true fpeaking, I'll offend no body; is there any harm in the heavier for a husband? None, I think, if it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwife 'tis light and not heavy. Afk my Lady Beatrice elfe, here fhe comes.


Hero. Good morrow, coz.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat. Good morrow, fweet Hero.

Hero. Why, how now? do you speak in the fick tune?

Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks.

Marg. Clap us into Light o'love; that goes without a burden; do you fing it, and I'll dance it.

Beat. Yes, Light o'love with your heels; then if your husband have stables enough, you'll look he fhall lack no barns.

Marg. O illegitimate conftru&tion! I fcorn that with my heels.

Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, coufin; 'tis time you were ready: by my troth, I am exceeding ill; hey hot Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H.

Mar. Well, if you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more failing by the star.

Beat. What means the fool, trow?

Marg. Nothing I, but God fend every one their heart's defire !

Hero. Thefe gloves the Count fent me; they are an excellent perfume.

Beat. I am ftuff'd, coufin, I cannot smell.



Marg. A maid, and stuff'd! there's goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profefs'd apprehenfion?

Marg. Ever fince you left it; doth not my wit become me rarely?

Beat. It is not feen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am fick.

Marg. Get you fome of this diftill'd Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prick'ft her with a thistle.

Beat. Benedictus? why Benedictus you have fome moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy-thiftle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love; nay, birlady, I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift; nor I lift not to think what I can; nor indeed I cannot think, if I would think my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love. Yet Benedict was fuch another, and now is he become a man. He fwore he would never marry; and yet now, in despight of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging: and how you may be converted, I know not; but methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps ?
Marg. Not a false gallop.

Enter Urfula.

Urf. Madam, withdraw; the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town, are come to fetch you to church.

Hero. Help to drefs me, good coz. good Meg, good Urfula.


SCENE VIII. Another apartment in Leonato's house.
Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Leon. What would you with me, honeft neighbour?
Dogh. Marry, Sir, I would have fome confidence
with you, that decerns you nearly.


Leon Brief, I pray you; for, you fee, 'tis a busy ́time with me

Dogb. Marry, this it is, Sir.

Verg. Yes, in truth it is, Sir.

Leon. What is it, my good friends?

Dogb. Goodman Verges, Sir, speaks a little of the matter; an old man, Sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would defire they were; but, in faith, as honeft as the skin between his brows.

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Verg. "Yes, I thank God, I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honefter " than I "

Dogb. Comparisons are odorous; palabras, neighbour Verges.

Leon Neighbours, you are tedious

Dogb. It pleafes your Worship to say so, but we are the poor Duke's officers; but truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your Worship.

Leon. All thy tedioufnefs on me, ha?

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

Verg. And fo am I.

Leon. I would fain know what you have to fay. Verg Marry, Sir, our watch to-night, excepting your Worship's prefence, hath ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Meffina

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Dogb. "A good old man, Sir; he will be talking, as they fay; when the age is in, the wit is out; God help us, it is a world to fee: well faid, i' faith, neighbour Verges; well, he's a good man; an two men ride an horfe, one must ride behind; an honest "foul, i' faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke "bread, but God is to be worshipp'd; all men are "not alike, alas, good neighbour!"

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Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too fhort of you.
Dogb Gifts, that God gives.

Leon. I muit leave you.

Dogb. One word, Sir; our watch have, indeed, comprehended two aulpicious perfons; and we would


have them this morning examin'd before your Worship. Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me; I am now in great hafte, as may appear unto you. Dogb. It fhall be fuffigance.

Leon. Drink fome wine ere you go:

Enter a meffenger.

: fare you well.

Me. My Lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready. [Ex. Leon. Dogh. Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacole, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail, we are now to examine those men.

Verg. And we must do it wifely.

Dogb. "We will fpare for no wit, I warrant; here's "that fhall drive fome of them to a non-come." Only get the fearned writer to fet down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail. [Exeunt.

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Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Leonato, Friar, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice.


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NOME, Friar Francis, be brief, only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall re

count their particular duties afterwards.

Friar. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this lady?

Claud. No.

Leon. To be marry'd to her, Friar; you come to marry her.

Friar. Lady, you come hither to be marry'd to this Count!

Hero. I do.

Friar. If any of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoin'd, I charge you on your fouls to utter it.

Claud. Know you any, Hero?
Hero. None, my Lord.

Friar. Know you any, Count?


Leon. I dare make this anfwer, 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 fome be of laughing, as Ha, ha, he!

Claud. Stand thee by, Friar. Father, by your leave, Will you with free and unconstrained foul Give me this maid your daughter?

Leon. As freely, fon, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whofe


May counterpoife this rich and precious gift?
Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.
Claud Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness:
There, Leonato, take her back again;

Give not this rotten orange to your friend.
She's but the fign and femblance of her honour;
Behold, how like a maid fhe blushes here!
O, what authority and fhew of truth
Can cunning fin cover itfelf withal!

Comes not that blood, as modest evidence,
To witnefs fimple virtue? would you not swear,
All you that fee her, that he were a maid,
By thefe exterior fhews? But fhe is none :
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
Her blush is guiltinefs, not modefty.

Leon. What do you mean, my Lord?
Claud. Not to be marry'd,

Not knit my foul to an approved wanton.

Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof

Have vanquifh'd the resistance of her youth,

And made defeat of her virginity.

Claud. I know what you would fay: if I have known her,

You'll fay fhe did embrace me as a husband,

And fo extenuate the forehand fin.

No, Leonato,

I never tempted her with word too large;
But, as a brother to his fifter, fhew'd

Bafhful fincerity, and comely love.

Hero. And feem'd I ever otherwife to you?

Claud. Out on thy feeming! I will rate against it;


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