Win me and wear me,-let him answer me:-
Come, follow me, boy; come, sir boy, follow me;
Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining' tence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.
Leon. Brother,

[niece
Ant. Content yourself; God knows, I lov'd my
And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains;
That dare as well answer a man, indeed,
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue:
Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops!-
Leon. Brother Anthony,-

[them, yea.

5

10

Ant. Hold you content; What, man? I know
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple :|
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys,
That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander, 15
Go antickly, and show outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.

Lean. But, brother Anthony,-
Ant. Come, 'tis no matter;

20

Do not you meddle, let me deal in this. [patience.
Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your
My heart is sorry for your daughter's death;
But on my honour, she was charg'd with nothing 25
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 shall,

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 seek you both.

Claud. We have been up and down to seek thee: for we are high-proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene. It is in my scabbard: Shall I draw it? Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? Claud. Never any did so, though very many have been beside 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 sick or angry?

Claud. What! courage, man! What though 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 subject.

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;-1 jest not:-I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare:-Do me right, or I will protest 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, so I may have good cheer.

Pedro. What, a feast? a feast?

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, say my knife's naught. -Shall I not find a woodcock 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 said thou hadst a fine wit; True, says she, a fine little one; No, said I, a great wit; Right, said she, a great gross one; Nay, said I, a 30 good wit; Just, says she, it hurts nobody; Nay, said I, the gentleman is wise; Certain, said she, a wise gentleman; Nay, said I, he hath the tongues ; That I believe, said she, for he swore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday 35 morning;there'sadouble tongue, there's 2 tongues.Thus did she,an hour together, trans-shape thy particular virtues; yet, at last, she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.

Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and 40 said, she car'd not.

2

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

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God saw him 45 when he was hid in the garden.

50

Pedro. But when shall we set the savage 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 gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thank'd, hurt not.-My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you; I must discontinue 55 your company, your brother, the bastard, is fled from Messina; you have, among you, kill'd a sweet and innocent lady: For my lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet; and till then, peace be with him! [Exit Benedick.

60

Pedro. He is in earnest.

A foin is a thrust or push with a weapon. That is, scrambling. A scrambler is one who visits about among his friends to get a dinner. An allusion to tilting. 4 This is similar to a proverb now still in use, If he be angry, let him turn the buckle of his girdle; the meaning of which is, If he is in an ill humour, let him continue so till he is in a better,

Claud,

Claud. In most profound earnest; and, I'll
warrant you, for the love of Beatrice.
Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee?
Claud. Most sincerely.

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth apIn the rare semblance that I lov'd it first. [pear Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our sexton hath reform'd signior Leonato of

Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes 5 he matter: And, masters, do not forget to specify, in his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit!!

when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass. Verg. Here, here comes master signior Leo

Enter Dogberry, Verges, Conrade and Borachioto, and the sexton too.

guarded.

Claud. He is then a giant to an ape: but then is an ape a doctor to such a man.

Pedro. But, soft you, let be; pluck up my heart, and be sad: Did he not say, my brother was fled?| Dogh. Come you, sir, it justice cannot tame you, she shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay, an you be a cursing hypocrite 15 once, you must be look'd to.

Pedro. How now? two of my brother's men bound! Porachio, one!

Cund. Hearken after their offence, my lord. Pedro. Officers,whatoffencehavethesemendone ? 20 Dogb Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have bely'd a lady; thirdly, they have ve rify'd unjust things: and, to conclude, they are 25 lying knaves.

Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why they are cominitted; and, to conclude, what you lay to their charge?

Claud. Rightly reason'd, and in his own division; and by my troth, there's one meaning well suited'.

Re-enter Leonato und Antonio, with the Sexton.
Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes;
That when I note another man like him,

30I

Pedro. Whom have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this 35 learned constable is too cunning to be understood: What's your offence?

Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceiv'd even your very eyes: 40 what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who, in the night, overheard me confessing to this man, how Don John your brother incens'd me to slander the lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, 45 and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you disgrac'd her, when you should marry her: my villainy they have upon record; which I had rather seal with my death, than repeat over to my shame: the lady is dead upon mine and 50 my master's false accusation; and briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain.

Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?

[it. Claud. I have drunk poison, whiles he utter'd 55 Pedro. But did my brother set thee on to this: Bora. Yea,and paid me richly for the practice ofit. Pedro.He is compos'd and fram'dof treachery:And fled he is upon this villainy.

I may avoid him: Which of these is he? [on me.
Bora. If you would know your wronger, look
Leon. Art thou the slave, that with thy breath.
Mine innocent child?
[hast kill'd'

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 :-
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 sin: yet sinn'd I not,
But in mistaking.

Pedro. By my soul, nor I;

And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
would bend under any heavy weight
That he'll enjoin me to.

Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live,
That were impossible; but, I pray you both,
Possess 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 sing it to her bones; sing it to-night;-
To-morrow morning come you to my house;
And since you could not be my son-in-law,
Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
And she alone is heir to both of us; [cousin,
Give her the right you should have given her
And so dies my revenge.

Claud. O noble sir,

Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer; and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio.

[ing;

Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your com-
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 soul, she was not;
Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me;
But always hath been just and virtuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.
[under
Dogb. Moreover, sir, (which, indeed, is not

'Dr. Warburton says, it was esteemed a mark of levity and want of becoming gravity, at that time, to go in the doublet and hose, and leave off the cloak, to which this well-turned expression als ludes. The thought is, that love makes a man as ridiculous, and exposes him as naked, as being in the doublet and hose without a cloak. That is, put into many modes, or shapes.

white

white and black) this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass; I besech you, let it be remembered in his punishment: And also, the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it'; and 5 borrows money in God's name; the which he hath used so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake: Pray you examine him on that point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest 10 pains.

Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains.

Dogb. God save the foundation!

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.

15

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep 20 your worship; I wish your worship well; God restore you to health: I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wish'd, God prohibit it.-Come, neighbour. [Exeunt. Leon.Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. 25 Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to

morrow.

Pedro. We will not fail.

Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.
Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk 30
with Margaret,
[low.

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fel-
[Exeunt severally.

SCENE - II.

A Room in Leonato's House.

Enter Benedick and Margaret. Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou deservest it.

Marg. To have no man come over2 me? why, shall I always keep below stairs?

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's

mouth: it catches.

Murg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Bene. A nost manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers'.

Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons for maids.

Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who,
I think, hath legs.
[Exit Margaret.
Bene. And therefore will come. [Sings.]

The god of love,

That sits above,
And knows me, and knows me,
How pitiful I deserve,— ̧

I mean in singing; but in loving,-Leander the
good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pan-
dars, and a whole book full of these quondam car
pet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in
the even road of a blank verse, why, they were
never so truly turn'd over and over, as my poor
self, in love: Marry, I cannot shew it in rhime; I
have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but ba
by, an innocent rhime; for scorn, born, a hard
hime; for school, fool, a babbling rhime; very omi-
nous endings: No, I was not born under a rhiming
planet, for I cannot woo in festival terms.—

Enter Beatrice.

Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I call
thee?
[me.
Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid
Bene. O, stay but till then!

Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now:and yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath past between you and Claudio.

Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will 35 kiss thee.

40

Beat. Foul words are but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkiss'd.

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of its right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first 45 fall in love with me?

50

Beat. For them all together; which maintain'd so politick a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?

Bene. Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Beat. In spight of you heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spight it for my sake, I will Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers 55 spight it for yours; for I will never love that of our own.

which my friend hates.

Dr. Warburton comments on this passage as follows:-"There could not be a pleasanter ridicule on the fashion, than the constable's descant on his own blunder. They heard the conspirators satyrize the fashion, whom they took to be a man surnamed, Deformed. This the constable applies with exquisite humour to the courtiers, in a description of one of the most fantastical fashions of that time, the men's wearing rings in their ears, and indulging a favourite lock of hair which was brought before, and tied with ribbons, and called a love-lock. Against this fashion William Prynne wrote his trea tise, called, "The Unlovelyness of Love-locks." To come over probably means here the same as to overcome, in its most significant sense, when applied to a woman. Meaning, I yield.

Bene.

Bene. Question!-Why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient for the wife, (if Don Worm, his conscience, find no impediment to the contrary) to be 15] the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself: So much for praising myself, (who, I myself wil bear witness, is praise-worthy) and now tell me, How doth your cousin?

Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle: yonder's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accus'd, the prince and Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the author of all, who is tied and gone: Will you 30 come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior? Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap. and be bury'd in thy eyes; and moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle. [Exeunt. 35

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, 40 And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.

That is, when men were not envious, but every one gave another his due. question's there, or what a foolish question do you ask.

Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow,]
Claud o;

We here attend you; are you yet determin'd
To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope. 5
Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar
ready.
[Exit Antonio.

Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's
That you have such a February face, [the matter,
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?

Claud. I think he thinks upon the savage bull:-
Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold,
And all Europa shall rejoice at thee;
As once Europa did at lusty Jove,
When he would play the noble beast in love.

Bene. They swore, that you were almost sick
for me.
[for me.
Beat. They swore, that you were well-nigh dead
Bene. 'Tis no such matter:-Then, you do not,
love me?

Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence.
Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the
gentleman.

Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves her;
10 For here's a paper, written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero. And here's another,

Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, 15 Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;
And some such strange bull leapt your father's cow,
And got a calf in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
Re-enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Marga-20
ret, and Ursula, musk'’d.

Bene. A miracle! bere's our own hands against our hearts!-Come, I will have thee; but, by this ight, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you:-but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save your life, for I was told, you were in a con

Claud. For this I owe you: here come other sumption. reck'nings.

Which is the lady I must seize upon?

Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. 25
Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me
see your face.
[hand]
Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her
Before this friar, and swear to marry her.
Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar; 30
I am your husband, if you like of me.

Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife:
[Unmasking.
And when you lov'd, you were my other husband.
Claud. Another Hero?

Hero. Nothing certainer:

One Hero dy'd defil'd; but I do live,
And, surely as I live, I am a maid.

Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.—

[Kissing her. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humour: Dost thou think I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is 35 my conclusion.-For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruis'd, and love my cousin.

Pedro. The former Hero! Hero, that is dead!
Leon. She dy'd, my lord, but whiles her slander 40
liv'd.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
Mean time let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.

Bene. Soft and fair, friar.—Which is Beatrice:
Beat. I answer to that name; What is your will:
Bene. Do not you love me?

Beat. Why, no, no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then, your uncle, and the prince,

and Claudio,

Have been deceived; they swore you did.
Beat. Do not you love me?

Bene. Troth, no, no more than reason.

Beut. Why, then, my cousin, Margaret, and

Ursula,

Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.!

Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgell'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceedingly narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends:-let's have 45 a dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, musick.-Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get 50thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipt with horn.

55

Enter Messenger.

Mess. My lord, your brotherJohn is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: P'il devise thee brave punishinents for him.-Strike jup, pipers.

[Dance. [Exeunt omnes.