Friar. There is some strange misprision in the princes.

Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honor:

And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
The practice of it lives in John the bastard, 190
Whose spirits toil in frame of villanies.

Leon. I know not. If they speak but truth of her,

These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honor,

The proudest of them shall well hear of it,
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
Nor age so eat up my invention,

Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall find, awaked in such a kind,
Both strength of limb and policy of mind,
Ability in means and choice of friends,
To quit me of them thoroughly.
Friar.

200

Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you in this case. Your daughter here the princes left for dead: Let her awhile be secretly kept in,

And publish it that she is dead indeed;
Maintain a mourning ostentation
And on your family's old monument
Hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites
That appertain unto a burial.

210

Leon. What shall become of this? what will this do?

Friar. Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf

Change slander to remorse; that is some good:
But not for that dream I on this strange course.
But on this travail look for greater birth.
She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
Upon the instant that she was accused,
Shall be lamented, pitied and excused
Of every hearer: for it so falls out
That what we have we prize not to the worth 220
Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost,
Why, then we rack the value, then we find
The virtue that possession would not show us
Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio:
When he shall hear she died upon his words,
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep
Into his study of imagination,

And every lovely organ of her life

Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving-delicate and full of life,

230

Into the eye and prospect of his soul, [mourn,
Than when she lived indeed; then shall he
If ever love had interest in his liver,
And wish he had not so accused her,
No, though he thought his accusation true.
Let this be so, and doubt not but success
Will fashion the event in better shape
Then I can lay it down in likelihood.
But if all aim but this be levell'd false,
The supposition of the lady's death
Will quench the wonder of her infamy:
And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,
As best befits her wounded reputation,
In some reclusive and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.
Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you:
And though you know my inwardness and love
very much unto the prince and Claudio,

Is

240

Come, lady, die to live: this wedding-day Perhaps is but prolong'd: have patience and endure.

[Exeunt all but Benedick and Beatrice. Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

Beat. Yea, and I will weep awhile longer.
Bene. I will not desire that.

Beat. You have no reason; I do it freely. 260 Bene. Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her! [ship? Bene. Is there any way to show such friendBeat. A very even way, but no such friend. Bene. May a man do it?

Beat. It is a man's office, but not yours. Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?

270

Beat. As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.

Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. Beat. Do not swear, and eat it.

Bene. I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you. Beat. Will you not eat your word? 280 Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it.

Beat. Is he not approved in the height a vil lain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands; and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancor,-O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice,

310 Beat. Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!

Bene. Nay, but Beatrice,

Bene. Beat

Beat. Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant, surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.

Beat. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

330

Bene. Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?

Beat. Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.

Bene. Enough, I am engaged; I will challenge him. I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your cousin: I must say she is dead: and so farewell. [Exeunt. 340

SCENE II. A prison.

Enter DOGBERRY, VERGES, and SEXTON, in gowns; and the Watch, with CONRADE and BORACHIO.

Dog. Is our whole dissembly appeared? Verg. O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton. Sex. Which be the malefactors? Dog. Marry, that am I and my partner. Verg. Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition to examine.

Sex. But which are the offenders that are to be examined? let them come before master constable.

Dog Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

11

Dog. Write down, that they hope they serve God and write God first; for God defend but God should go before such villains! Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves? Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none. Dog. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you; but I will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah; a word in your ear: sir, I say to you, it is thought you are false knaves.

30

Bora. Sir, I say to you we are none. Dog. Well, stand aside. 'Fore God, they are both in a tale. Have you writ down, that they

are none?

are your accusers.

Dog. Yea, marry, that's the eftest way. Let the watch come forth. Masters, I charge you, in the prince's name, accuse these men. First Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's brother, was a villain.

40

Dog. Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother villain. Bora. Master constable,

Dog. Pray thee, fellow, peace: I do not like thy look, I promise thee. Sex. What heard him say you else? Sec. Watch. Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully. 51

Dog. Flat burglary as ever was committed.
Verg. Yea, by mass, that it is.
Sex. What else, fellow?

First Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her. Dog. O villain! thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this. Ser. What else?

Watch. This is all.

60

Sex. And this is more, masters, than you can deny: Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away; Hero was in this manner accused, in this very manner refused, and upon the grief of this suddenly died. Master constable, let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato's: I will go before and show him their examination.

Dog. Come, let them be opinioned.
Verg. † Let them be in the hands-
Con. Off, coxcomb!

[Exit.

70

Dog. God's my life, where's the sexton? let him write down the prince's officer coxcomb. Come, bind them. Thou naughty varlet!

Con. Away! you are an ass, you are an ass. Dog. Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not suspect my years? O that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. I am a wise fellow, and, which is more, an officer, and, which is more, a householder, and, which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in Messina, and one that knows the law, go to; and a rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath had losses, and one that hath two gowns and every thing handsome about him. Bring him away. "O that I had been writ down an ass! [Exeunt. 90

ACT V.

SCENE I. Before LEONATO's house. Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO. Ant. If you go on thus, you will kill yourself; And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief Against yourself.

Leon. I pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve: give not me counsel;

10

Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father that so loved his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine
And let it answer every strain for strain,
As thus for thus and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape, and form:
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem!' when he should

groan,

Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.

But there is no such man: for, brother, men 20
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial, medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ache with air and agony with words:
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
To be so moral when he shall endure
The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
Ant. Therein do men from children nothing
differ.

30

I will be flesh

Leon. I pray thee, peace. and blood; For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently, However they have writ the style of gods And made a push at chance and sufferance. Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself; Make those that do offend you suffer too. Leon. There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will do so.

40

My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;
And that shall Claudio know; so shall the prince
And all of them that thus dishonor her.
Ant. Here comes the prince and Claudio
hastily.

Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO.
D. Pedro. Good den, good den.
Claud.

Good day to both of you.
Leon. Hear you, my lords,-
D. Pedro. We have some haste, Leonato.
Leon. Some haste, my lord! well, fare you
well, my lord:

Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.

D. Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.

50

Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling,

Some of us would lie low.

60

I speak not like a dotard nor a fool,
As under privilege of age to brag
What I have done being young, or what would do
Were I not old. Know, Claudio, or thy head,
Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me
That I am forced to lay my reverence by
And, with gray hairs and bruise of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man.

I say thou hast belied mine innocent child: Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,

And she lies buried with her ancestors;
O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,
Save this of hers, framed by thy villany!
Claud. My villany?

Leon.

70

Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.

D. Pedro. You say not right, old man.
My lord, my lord,

Leon.

I'll prove it on his body, if he dare,
Despite his nice fence and his active practice,
His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.

Claud. Away! I will not have to do with you. Leon. Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill'd my child:

If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
Ant. He shall kill two of us, and men indeed:
But that's no matter; let him kill one first; 81
Win me and wear me; let him answer me.
Come, follow me, boy; come, sir boy, come, fol-
low me:

Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence;
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.
Leon. Brother,-

Ant. Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece;

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 Antony,-

90

Ant. Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,

And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,

Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boys,
That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander,
Go anticly, show outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst:
And this is all.

Leon. But, brother Antony,-
Ant.

Come, 'tis no matter: 100
Do not you meddle; let me deal in this.
D. Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake
your patience.

My heart is sorry for your daughter's death:
But, on my honor, she was charged with nothing
But what was true and very full of proof.
Leon. My lord, my lord,--

D. Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No? Come, brother; away! I will be heard. [it

Ant. And shall, or some of us will smart for [Exeunt Leonato and Antonio. D. Pedro. See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

Enter BENEDICK. Claud. Now, signior, what news?

110