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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!
Claud. My villany?

Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.
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 hast kill'd my child;

If thou kill'st 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 she 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 daffeme 2-] This is a country word, Mr. Pope tells us, fignifying daunt. It may be fo; but that is not the expofition here: To daffe, and deffe, are fynonomous terms, that mean, to put off: 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 Hotspur, in the 1 Hen. IV.

Where is his fon,

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

i. e. put it afide; neglected all confiderations of the world. Doffe is too perpetual in our author, to need any quotations in proof 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 utmoft fcruple: Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mongring boys, That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander, Go antickly, and fhew an outward hideousness, And fpeak off half a dozen dangerous words, (25) How they might hurt their enemies, if they durft; 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, fhe was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.
Leon. My lord, my lord

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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 seek. 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 noses snapt off with two old men without teeth.

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

(25) And Speak of half a dozen dangerous words,] These editors are perfons of unmatchable indolence, 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 Twelfib-night;

A terrible cath, 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 ufe thy wit?

Bene. It is in my scabbard; shall I draw it ?
Pedro. Doft thou wear thy wit by thy fide?

Claud. Never any did fo, though very many have been beside 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 againft me. I pray you, chufe another fubject. Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last 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 cowardife. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death fhall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, fo I may have good

cheer.

Pedro. What, a feast?

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 curiously, fay, my knife's naught. Shall I not find 2 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 fhe, a great groís one; nay, said I, a good wit; juft, said

fhe,

fhe, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, faid the, a wife gentleman; nay, faid I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, fays 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 she wept heartily, and said she car'd not.

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

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God farw 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 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 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 ape a doctor to such a man.

VOL. II.

D

Pedro.

Pedro. But, foft you, let me fee, pluck up my heart and be fad; did he not fay, my brother was fled ?

Dogb. Come you, Sir, if juftice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ne'er weigh more reasons 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 spoken untruths; fecondarily, they are flanders; fixth and laftly, they have bely'd a lady; thirdly, they have verify'd unjust things; and to conclude, they are lying knaves.

Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask 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 conftable 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 wisdoms could not discover, these fhallow fcols 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 should 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 defire 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.

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