Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops!
Frother Anthony ---

Leon

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

"And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
"Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys,
"That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave, and flander,
"Go anticly, and show an outward hideousness,
" And speak 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, she was charge'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 smart for it.

[Exeunt ambo.

SCENE III. Enter Benedick.

Pedro. See, see, here comes the man we went. to

feek.

Claud. Now, Signior, what news?

Bene. Good day, my Lord.

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

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

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

Bene. In a false 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 scabbard; shall I draw it? Pedro. Dost 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 honest man, he looks pale: art thou fick or angry?

Claud. What! courage, man: what tho' care kill'd a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, if you charge it against me. - I pray you chuse another fubject.

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

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 speak a word in your ear ?
Claud. God bless me from a challenge!

Bene. You are a villain; I jest 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 sweet 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 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 easily. Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day. I faid, thou hadst a fine wit; right, says she, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great wit; just, said she, a great gross one; nay, faid I, a good wit; just, said she, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, said she, a wife gentleman; nay, faid I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, faid she, 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 the an hour together tranf-shape tranf-fhape thy particular virtues; yet at last she concluded with a figh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.

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

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

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

Pedro. But when shall we set the falvage bull's horns on the sensible 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 goflip-like humour; you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thank'd, hurt not. My Lord, for your many courtefies I thank you; I must discontinue your company; your brother, the bastard, is fled from Messina; you have among you killed a fweet and innocent lady. For my Lord Lack-beard there, he and I shall meet; and till then, peace be with him! [Exit Benedick.

Pedro He is in earnest.

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

Pedro. And hath challenge'd thee?
Claud. Most 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 say, my brother was fled? Dogb. Come, you, Sir; if Justice cannot tame you, she shall ne'er weigh more reafons in her balance; nay,

an

2

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 false report; moreover they have spoken untruths; fecondarily,, they are flanders; fixth and lastly, 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 reason'd, and in his own divifion; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well-fuited. Pedro. Whom have you offended, Masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? This learned constable 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 wifdoms could not difcover, 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 disgrace'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 shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's falfe accufation; and, briefly, I defire nothing but the reward of a villain.

Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through

your blood?

Claud. I have drunk poison while he utter'd it. Pedro. But did my brother set 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.

VOL. II.

F

Claud.

Claud Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance 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, Masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an afs.

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

SCENE V. Enter Leonato and Sexton.

Leon. Which is the villain? let me see 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 Hast kill'd mine innocent child? Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not so, villain; thou bely'st 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: Chuse 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 satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight,
That he'll injoin me to.

Leon. You cannot bid my daughter live again,
That were impossible; but, I pray you both,
Pofssess the people in Messina here
How innocent she dy'd; and if your love
Can labour aught in sad 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 house;
And fince you could not be my fon-in-law,

Be