Leon. I pray thee, cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitlefs
As water in a fieve; give not me counsel,
Nor let no Comforter delight mine ear,
But fuch a one whose wrongs do fuit with mine.
Bring me a father, that so lov'd his child.
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him fpeak of patience;

Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every ftrain for strain :
As thus for thus, and fuch a grief for fuch,
In every lineament, branch, fhape and form.
If fuch a one will fmile and ftroke his beard,
And Sorrow waive; cry, hem! when she should groan;
Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk
With candle-wafters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.

But there is no such man; for, brother, men
Can counfel, and give comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but tafting it,
Their counsel turns to paffion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage;
Fetter ftrong madness in a filken thread;
Charm ach with air, and agony with words.
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To thofe, that wring under the load of forrow;
But no man's virtue, nor fufficiency,

To be fo moral, when he fhall endure

'The like himself; therefore give me no counsel ;
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ.
Leon. I pray thee, peace;
I will be flesh and

blood;

any Superior Qualifications in him; or any fufpicion he fhews of knowing their Ignorance. This is strange. The Sexton throughout shews as good Senfe in their Examination as any Judge upon the Bench could do. And as to his Sufpicion of their Ignorance, he tells the TownClerk, That he goes not the Way to examine.

For

For there was never yet philosopher, That could endure the tooth-ach patiently; * However they have writ the style of Gods, + And made a pish at chance and fufferance. Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself: Make those, that do offend you, fuffer too.

Leon. There thou speak'st reason; nay, I will do fo. My foul doth tell me, Hero is bely'd;

And that fhall Claudio know, fo fhall the Prince;
And all of them, that thus dishonour her.

Enter Don Pedro, and Claudio.

Ant. HERE comes the Prince and Claudio haftily.

Pedro. Good den, good den.

Claud. Good day to both of

Leon. Hear you, my lords?

you.

Pedro. We have fome hafte, Leonato.

Leon. Some hafte, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord.

Are you fo hafty now? well, all is one.

Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling, Some of us would lie low.

Claud. Who wrongs him?

Leon. Marry, thou doft wrong me, thou diffembler, thou!

Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy fword,

I fear thee not.

Claud. Marry, befhrew my hand,

If it fhould give your age fuch cause of fear;
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.

* However they have writ the style of Gods,] This alludes to the extravagant Titles the Stoics gave their wife Man.

† And made a pish at chance and sufferance.] Alludes to their famous Apathy.

Leon.

Leon. Tush, tufh, man, never fleer and jeft at me, 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, to thy head,
Thou haft fo wrong'd my innocent child and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reverence by ;
And, with grey hairs, and bruife of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man;

I fay, thou haft bely'd mine innocent child,

[heart;

Thy flander hath gone through and through her
And the lies bury'd with her ancestors,
O, in a tomb where never scandal flept,
Save this of hers, fram'd by thy villany!
Claud. My villany?

Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine, I fay.
Pedro. You fay not right, old man.
Leon. My lord, my lord,

I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;

Defpight his nice fence and his active practice,
His May of youth, and bloom of luftyhood.

Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you. Leon. Canft thou fo doffe me? thou haft kill'd my child;

If thou kill'ft me, boy, thou fhalt kill a man.

*Ant. He fhall kill two of us, and men indeed; But that's no matter, let him kill one first ;

* Ant. He shall kill two of us, &c.] This Brother Anthony is the trueft Picture imaginable of human Nature. He had affumed the Character of a Sage to comfort his Brother, o'erwhelm'd with Grief for his only Daughter's Affront and Dishonour; and had severely reproved him for not commanding his Passion better on so trying an Occafion. Yet, immediately after this, no fooner does he begin to suspect that his Age and Valour are flighted, but he falls into the most intemperate Fit of Rage himself and all his Brother can do or fay is not of power to pacify him. This is copying Nature with a Penetration and Exa&ness of Judgment peculiar to Shakespear. As to the Expreffion, too, of his Paffion, nothing can be more highly painted.

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

Leon. Brother,

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

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

And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple :
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander,
Go unticly, and fhow 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, the was charg'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 some of us will smart for it.
[Exeunt ambo.

we will not wake your patience.] This conveys a Sentiment that the Speaker would by no Means have implied, That the Patience of the two Old Men was not exercised, but afleep, which upbraids them for Infenfibility under their Wrong. Shakespear mult have We will not wrack, i. . destroy your Patience by tan

wrote

talizing you.

SCENE

Pedro.

EE, fee, here comes the man we went to feek.

SE

Claud. Now, Signior, what news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

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

Claud. We had like to have had our two nofes fnapt off with two old men without teeth.

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

Bene. In a falfe 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. It is in my fcabbard; fhall I draw it? Pedro. Doft 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 honeft man, he looks pale: art thou fick or angry?

Claud. What! courage, man: what tho' care kill'd a cat, thou haft mettle enough in thee to kill care. Bene. Sir, I fhall 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 laft 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 fpeak a word in your ear?

Claud.