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; For there was never yet philofopher,

That could endure the tooth-ach patiently;
However they have writ the ftyle of Gods,
And made a pish at chance and sufferance.
Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself:
Make thofe, 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 you.

Leon. Hear you, my lords?

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 lye 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 caufe of fear;
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
Leon. Tufh, tufh, man, never Heer and jest at me;
I fpeak 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,

And, with grey hairs, and bruife of many days,
Do challenge thee to tryal of a man;

I fay, thou haft bely'd mine innocent child,
Thy flander hath gone through and through her heart,
And the lies bury'd with her ancestors,

O, in a tomb where never fcandal flept,
Save this of hers, fram'd by thy villany 1
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.
(24) Leon. Canft thou fo daffe 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 firft;
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,

Ant. Content yourfelf; God knows, I lov'd my niece; And fhe 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.

(24) Canft thou fo daffe me?-] This is a country word, Mr. Pope tells us, fignifying, daunt. It may be fo; but that is not the expofition heie: To daffe, and doffe are fynonomous terms, that mean, to put ff which is the very fenfe requir'd here, and what Leonato would reply, upon Claudio's faying, he would have nothing to do with him. So Hotftur, in the 1 Hent. IV.

Where is his fon,

The nimble-footed, mad-cap, Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daft the world afide.
And bid it, pass ?-

i. e. put it afide; neglected all confiderations of the world. Deffe is too perpetual in our author, to need any quotations in procf of it.

Boys,

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 fcruple: Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys, That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander, Go antickly, and how an outward hideoufnefs, And fpeak off half a dozen dangerous words, (25) How they might hurt their enemies, if they durit; 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 wake 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 fome of us will smart for it.

Enter Benedick.

[Exe. ambo.

Pedro. See, fee, 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 nofes fnapt off with two old men without teeth.

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

(25) And peak of half a dozen dangerous words,] Thefe editors are perfons of unmatchable indelence, that can't afford to add a fingle letter to retrieve common fenfe. To speak off, as I have reform'd the text, is to throw out boldly, with an oftentation of bravery, &c. So in Twelfth-night;

A terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd off:

Bene.

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, chufe another subject. 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. God bless me from a challenge!

Bene. You are a villain; I jeft 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 cowardise. You have kill'd a fweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may

cheer.

Pedro. What, a feaft?

have good

Claud. I' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calves-head and a capon, the which if I do not carve moft curioufly, fay, my knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?

Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes eafily.

Pedro. I'll tell thee, how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day; I faid, thou hadft a fine wit, right, fays fhe, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great wit; juft, faid fhe, a great grofs one; nay, faid I, a good wit; juft, faid

fhe,

fhe, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, said fhe, a wife gentleman; nay, faid I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, faid fhe, 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 fhe an hour together tranf-fhape thy particular virtues; yet, at laft, fhe concluded with a figh, thou waft the propereft man in Italy. Claud. For the which fhe wept heartily, and faid the car'd not.

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

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

Pedro. But when fhall we fet the favage bull's horns on the fenfible Benedick's head?

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Bonedick the married man.

Bene. Fare you well, boy, you know my mind; I will leave you now to your gefip-like humour; you break jets as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thank'd, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtefies I thank you; I must discontinue y our company; your brother the baftard is fled from Mefina; you have among you killed a fweet and innocent lady. For my lord lack-beard there, he and I fhall meet; and 'till then, peace be with him. [Exit Benedick.

Pedro. He is in earnest.

Claud. In moft profound earncft, and, I'l warrant you, for the love of Beatrice.

Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee?

Claud. Moft 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. VOL. II.

D

Pedro