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

D.Pedro. Whom have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this 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 deceived even your very eyes: 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 incensed me to slander the lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you disgraced 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 my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain.

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

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

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I first loved it.

Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our sexton hath reformed signior Leonato of the matter: And masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.

Verg. Here, here comes master signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.

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

I may avoid him: Which of these is he?

Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on me. Leon. Art thou the slave, that with thy breath hast kill'd Mine innocent child?

[7] That is, one meaning is put into many different dresses; the Prince having asked the same question in four modes of speech, JOHNSON.

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 :-
I 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: Choose your revenge yourself;
Impose me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my sin: Yet sinn'd I not,
But in mistaking.

D.Pedro. By my soul, nor I;

And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I 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 died: 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;

Give her the right you should have given her cousin,

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.

Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming;

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.

Dogb. Moreover, sir, (which, indeed, is not under

white and black) this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass: I beseech 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 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 upon that point.

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

Dogb. God save the foundation!"

you.

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

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep 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 wished, God prohibit it.-Come, neighbour.

[Exe. DoGB. VERG. and Watch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to-morrow. D.Pedro. We will not fail.

Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

[Ex. D.PEDRO and CLAUD. Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with

Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. [Ex.

[8] There could not be a pleasanter ridicule on the fashion, than the constable's descant on his own blunder. They heard the conspirators satirize 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 WARB-Fynes Moryson, in a very particular account that he has given of the dress of lord Montjoy, (the rival, and afterwards the friend, of Robert, earl of Essex,) says, that his hair was " thinne on the head, where he wore it short, except a lock under his left eare, which he nourished in the time of this warre, [the Irish War, in 1599] and being woven up, hid it in his neck under his ruffe." Itinerary, P.II. When he was not on service, he probably wore it in a different fashion. MAL. [9] i.e. as a common beggar. This alludes, with too much levity, to Prov. xix. 17: "He that giveth to the poor, lendeth unto the Lord." STEEV. [] Such was the customary phrase employed by those who received alms at the gates of religious houses. Dogberry, however, in the present instance,might have designed to say God save the founder !" STEEV.

LEONATO's Garden.

SCENE II.

Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting.

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 over me? why, shall I always keep below stairs?

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches.

Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers. 2

Mar. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our own. 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 MARG. [Singing.

Bene. And therefore will come.

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 pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned over and over as my poor self, in love: Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried; I find out no rhyme to lady but baby, an innocent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyme; for school, fool, a babbling rhyme; very ominous endings: No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, for I cannot woo in festival terms.

[2] I suppose, that to give the bucklers is, to yield, or to lay by all thoughts of defence, so clypeum abjicere. The rest deserves no comment. JOHNSON.

Enter BEATRICE.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. Bene. O, stay but till then!

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

Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee. Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

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 disdst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them all together; which maintained so politic 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 spite of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours for I will never love that, which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession; there's not one wise man among twenty, that will praise himself.

Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours: 3 if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps. Beat. And how long is that, think you?

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

Beat. Very ill.

[3] i.e. When men were not envious, but every one gave another his due. The reply is extremely humorous. WARBURTON.