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Friar. Pause a while,
Leon. What shall become of this? what will this do
Friar. Marry, this, well carry’d, fall on her behalf Change slander to remorse; that is some good; But not for that dream I on this strange course, But on this travel look for greater birth; She dying, as it must be fo maintain’d, Upon the instant that she was accus’d, Shall be lamented, pity'd, and excus'd, Of every
hearer: for it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, (18)
(17) Your Daughter bere the Princess (left for dead) But how comes Hero to fart up a Princess here? We have no intimation of her father being a Prince; and this is the firft and only time that the is complimented with this dignity. The remotion of a single letter, and of the Parent besis, will bring her to her own rank, and the place to its true meaning.
Your Daugbter bere the Princes left for dead; i. e. Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon; and his Bastard Brother who is likewise called a Prince. So in the other passages of this Play i
To burn tbe error that tbefe Princes bold.
Agains ber Maiden Honour.
There is some Arange Misprifion in these Princes.
I thank you, Princes, for my Daughter's Death.
Wbile we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost,
-----] Whether this be an imita. tion, or no, I won't contend; but if not, it seems to me a very fine paraphrafe on this passage of Horace; Lib. III. Ode 24.
Virtutem incolumem odimus,
Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and loft,
The fuppofition of the lady's death
Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you :
Leon. Being that I How in grief,
For to strange sores, strangely they ftrain the cure.
Manent Benedick and Beatrice. Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while? Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer. Bene. I will not defire that. Beat. You have no reason, I do it freely. Bene. Surely, I do believe, your fair cousin is wrong'd.
Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me, that would right her!
Bene. Is there any way to show such friendship?
Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you ; is not that strange?
Beat. As ftrange as the thing I know not; it were as possible for me to say, I lov'd nothing so well as you; but believe me not; and yet I lye not; I confess nothing, nor i deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lov'st me.
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 ?
Bene. With no sauce that can be devis’d to it; I proteft, I love thee.
Beat. Why then, God forgive me !
Beat. You have stay'd me in a happy hour; I was about to protest, I lov'd you.
Bene. And do it with all thy heart.
Beat. I love you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest.
Bene. Come, bid me do any thing for thee.
Beat. I am gone, tho' I am here; there is no love in you ; nay, I pray you, let me go.
Beat. You dare easier be friends with me, than fight with mine enemy.
Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy?
Beat. Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slander’d, scorn'd, dishonour'd my kinswoman! 0 that I were a man! what bear her in hand until they come to stake hands, and then with public accusation, uncover'd flander, unmitigated rancour - O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place.
Bene. Hear me, Beatrice.
Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ?. proper saying!
Bene. Nay, but Beatrice.
Beat. Sweet Hero ! she is wrong'd, she is slander'd, She is undone.
Beat. Princes and Counts ! surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count-comfect, a sweet gallant, surely! O that I were a man for his fake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my fake! but manhood is melted into curtesies, valour into compliment, and men are only turn’d 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 swear, ing by it.
Bene. Think you in your soul, the Count Claudio hath wrong's Hero?
Beat. Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.
Bene. Enough, I am engag'd, I will challenge him, I will kiss your hand, and to leave you ; by this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account; as you hear of me, so think of me; go comfort your
I must fay, she is dead, and so farewel.
SCENE changes to a Prison.
Enter Dogberry, Verges, Borachio, Conrade, the
Town-Clerk and Sexton in Gowns. To. CI. T S our whole dissembly appear'd?
Sexton. Which be the malefactors ?
Dog. Nay, that's certain, we have the exhibition to examine.
Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examin'd? let them come before master conttable. To. Cl. Yea, marry, let them come before
what is your name, friend
Conr. I am a gentleman, Sir, and my name is Conrade.
To. Cl. Write down, master gentleman Conrade ; masters, do you serve God?
Both. Yea, Sir, we hope. (19)
To. Cl. Write down, that they hope they serve God; and write God first : for God defend, but God hould 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
Conr. Marry, Sir, we say, we are none.
Te. Cl. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you, but I will go about with him. Come you hither, firrah, a word in your ear, Sir ; I say to you, it is thought you are both false knaves.
(19) Both. Yea, Sir, we bope.
To.cl. Write down, ibat ihey hope, they serve God : and write God first, for God defend, but God should go before fucb Villains--] This short passage, which is truly humorous and in character, I have added from the old Quarto. Belides, it supplies a defect : for, without it, the Town-Clrk asks a question of the prisoners, and goes on without staying for any answer to it,