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 ufe thy wit? Bene. It is in my fcabbard; fhall I draw it? 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 fubject. Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last was broke crofs. 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 have good cheer. Pedro. What, a feast? Claud. l' 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 hadst a fine wit; right, fays fhe, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great wit; juft, faid she, a great grofs one; nay, faid I, a good wit; juft, faid the, The, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, faid fhe, a wife gentleman; nay, faid J, 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 properest man in Italy. Claud. For the which the wept heartily, and faid the car'd not. Pedro. Yea, that he did; but yet for all that, and if fhe did not hate him deadly, he would love him dearly; the old man's daughter told us all. Claud. All, all; and moreover, God saw 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 Benedick the married man. Bene. Fare you well, boy, you know my mind; I will leave you now to your goffip-like humour; you break jefts as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thank'd, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtefies I thank you; I muft difcontinue your company; your brother the baftard is fled from Melina; you have among you killed a fweet and innocent lady. For my lord lack-beard there, he and I shall meet; and 'till then, peace be with him, [Exit Benedick. Pedro. He is in earnest. Claud. In moft profound earnest, and, I'll 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 spe a doctor to such a man. VOL. II. D Pedro. Pedro. But, foft you, let me fee, pluck up my heart and be sad; did he not fay, my brother was fled? Dogb. Come you, Sir, if juftice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ne'er weigh more reafons in her balance; nay, an you be a curfing hypocrite once, you must be look'd to. Pedro. How now, two of my brother's men bound? Borachio, one? Claud. Hearken after their offence, my lord. Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done? Dogb. Marry, Sir, they have committed falfe report; moreover, they have fpoken untruths; fecondarily, they are flanders; fixth and laftly, they have bely'd a lady; thirdly, they have verify'd unjuft things; and to conclude, they are lying knaves. Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I afk thee what's their offence; fixth and laftly, why they are committed; and to conclude, what you lay to their charge? Claud. Rightly reafon'd, and in his own divifion and, by my troth, there's one meaning well fuited. Pedro. Whom have you offended, mafters, 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 anfwer: do you hear me, and let this Count kill me: I have deceiv'd even your very eyes; what your wifdoms could not discover, thefe fhallow fools have brought to light, who in the night overheard me confeffing to this man, how Don John your brother incens'd me to flander the lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and faw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you difgrac'd her, when you fhould marry her; my villany they have upon record, which I had rather feal with my death, than repeat over to my fhame; the lady is dead upon mine and my mafter's falfe accufation; and briefly, I define nothing but the reward of a villain. Pedro. Runs not this fpeech like iron through your blood? Claud. I have drunk poison while he utter'd it. Pedro MUCH ADO about NOTHING. 75 Pedro. But did my brother fet thee on to this? Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our Sexton hath reform'd Signior Leonato of the matter; and mafters, do not forget to specify, when time and place fhall ferve, that I am an afs. Verg. Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too. Enter Leonato, and Sexton. Leon. Which is the villain? let me fee his eyes; That when I note another man like him, may avoid him; which of these is he? Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on me. Leon. Art thou, art thou the flave, that with thy breath Has kill'd mine innocent child? Bora. Yea, even I alone. Leon. No, not fo, villain; thou bely'ft thyself; Here ftand a pair of honourable men, A third is fled, that had a hand in it: I thank you, Princes, for my daughter's death; Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, Pedro. By my foul, nor I; And yet to fatisfy this good old man, I would bend under any heavy weight, That he'll enjoin me to. Leon. You cannot bid my daughter live again, That were impoffible; but, I pray you both, Poffefs the people in Meina here How innocent fhe dy'd; and if your love D 2 Can Can labour ought in fad invention, And he alone is heir to both of us; Give her the Right you should have given her Coufin, And fo dies my revenge. Claud. O noble Sir! Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me; 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 foul, fhe was not ; Nor knew not what he did, when the spoke to me. Dogb. Moreover, Sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me afs: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment; and alfo (26) the watch heard them talk of (26) The Watch beard them talk of one Deformed; they fay be wears a key in bis ear, and a lock banging by it, and borrows money in God's name, &c.] There could not be a more agreeable ridicule upon the fashion, than the Constable's descant upon his own blunder. One of the most fantaftical modes of that time was the indulging a favourite lock of hair, and suffering it to grow much longer than all its fellows; which they always brought before, (as we do the knots of a tye-wig,} ty'd with ribbands or jewels. King Charles the 1ft wore one of thefe favourite locks, as his hiftorians take notice, and as his pictures by Vandike prove: And whoever has been converfant with the faces of that painter, must have obferv'd a great many drawn in that fafhion. In Lord CLARENDON's Hory compleated, (a book in Octavo) being a collection of heads engrav'd from the paintings of Vardike, we may fe this mode in the prints of the Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Dorfer, Lord |