Pateh 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
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.

Leon. I pray thee, peace; I will be flesh and blood;

For there was never yet philosopher

That could endure the tooth-ache 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 your-
self;

Make those that do offend you suffer too.

Leon. There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will

do so:

My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;

And that shall Claudio know, so shall the prince, And all of them, that thus dishonour her.

Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO.

Ant. Here comes the prince, and Claudio, hastily.

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.

Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling, Some of us would lie low.

Claud.

Who wrongs him?

Leon. Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou :—

Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword;

I fear thee not.
Claud,

Marry, beshrew my hand, If it should give your age such cause of fear: In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword. Leon. Tush, tush, man, never fleer and jest 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 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.

Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.

D. Pedro. You say not right, old man.

Leon.

My lord, my lord,

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 in

deed;

But that's no matter; let him kill one first ;Win me and wear me,-let him answer me :Come follow me, boy; come sir boy, come follow

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,—

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, and 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;

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 honour, she was charged with no

thing

But what was true, and very full of proof.

Leon. My lord, my lord,—

D. Pedro.

Leon.

I will not hear you.

No?

And shall,

Come, brother, away :-I will be heard ;

Ant.

Or some of us will smart for it.

[Exeunt LEONATO and ANTONIO.

Enter BENEDICK.

D. Pedro. See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

Claud. Now, signior! what news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

D. Pedro. Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part almost a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two noses snapped off with two old men without teeth.

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

Bene. In a false quarrel there is no true valour I came to seek you both.

Claud. We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high proof melancholy, and

would fain have it beaten away: wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene. It is in my scabbard : shall I draw it? D. Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? Claud. Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit.--I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

man, he looks

What though

D. Pedro. As I am an honest pale art thou sick, or angry? Claud. What! courage, man! care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an you charge it against me :-I pray you, ehoose another subject.

Claud. Nay, then, give him another staff; this last was broke cross.

D. 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 speak a word in your ear?
Claud. God bless me from a challenge!

Bene. You are a villain;--I jest not-I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice; you have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

D. Pedro. What, a feast? a feast?

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