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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, bi'rlady, 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 Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man; he fwore, he would never marry; and yet now, in defpight 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 ?
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, another Apartment in Leonato's
Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Leon. WHAT would you with me, honest neigh
Dogb. Marry, Sir, I would have fome confidence with you, that decerns you nearly.
Leon. Brief, I pray you; for, you fee, 'tis a bufy time. with me.
Dogb. Marry, this it is, Sir.
Verg. Yes, in truth it is, Sir.
Leon. What is it, my good friends?
Dagb. Goodman Verges, Sir, fpeaks 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.
Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honefter than I.
Dog. Comparifons are odorous; palabras, neighbour Verges.
Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious.
Dogb. It pleafes your worship to fay fo, 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 tediousness on me, ha?
Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your worship as of any man in the city; and tho' 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 Mefina.
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 honeft foul, i'faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread, but God is to be worship'd; all men are not alike, alas, good neighbour !
Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too fhort of you. Dogb. Gifts, that God gives.
Leon. I must leave you.
Dogb. One word, Sir; our Watch have, indeed, comprehended two aufpicious 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.
Enter a Meffenger.
Me. My lord, they ftay for you to give your daugh ter to her husband.
Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready. [Ex. Leon. Degb. Go, good Partner, go get you to Francis Seacoale, bid him bring his pen aud inkhorn to the jail; we are now to examine thofe men.
Verg. And we must do it wifely.
Dogb. We will fpare for no wit, I warrant; here's that hall drive fome of them to a non-come. Only get the learned writer to fet down our excommunication, and meet me at the Jail. [Exeunt.
A C T IV.
SCENE, a CHURCH.
Enter D. Pedro, D. John, Leonato, Friar, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice.
OME, friar Francis, be brief, only to the plain form of marriage, and you fhall recount 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 either 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 his 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 worth May counterpoife this rich and precious gift?
Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.
Claudio. 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:
Can cunning fin cover itself withal!
Leon. What do you mean, my Lord?
Not knit my foul to an approved Wanton.
Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof (13)
(13) Dear my Lord, if you in your own Proof,] I am surpriz'd, the Poetical Editors did not obferve the Lameness of this Verfe. It evidently wants a Syllable in the laft Foot, which I have reftor'd by a Word, which, I prefume the firft Editors might hefitate at; though it is a very proper one, and a Word elsewhere used by our Author. Befides, in the Paffage under
Have vanquish'd the refiftance of her youth,
Claud. I know what you would fay: if I have known her,
I never tempted her with word too large;
Hero. And feem'd I ever otherwise to you?
Claud. Out on thy Seeming! I will write against it: You feem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chafte as is the bud ere it be blown:
But you are more intemperate in your blood
That rage in favage fenfuality.
Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth fpeak fo wide? Leon. Sweet Prince, why fpeak not you?
Pedro. What fhould I speak?
I land difhonour'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common Stale.
Leon. Are these things fpoken, or do I but dream? John. Sir, they are spoken, and thefe things are true. Bene. This looks not like a Nuptial.
Hero. True! O God!
Claud. Leonato, ftand I here?
Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's Brother?
Is this face Hero's are our eyes our own?
Leon. All this is fo: but what of this, my lord? Claud. Let me but move one question to your daughter, And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
Leon. I charge thee do fo, as thou art my child.
What kind of catechizing call you this?
Examination, this Word comes in almoft neceffarily, as Claudio had faid in the Line immediately preceding;
Not knit my Soul to an approved Wanton.