Pedro. But did my brother fet thee on to this? Bora. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it. Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery; And fled he is upon this villany.

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare femblance that I lov'd it firft.

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 serve, that I am an ass.

Verg. Here, here comes mafter 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,

I 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 1 alone.

Leon. No, not fo, villain; thou bely'st thyself;' Here fland 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.

Cloud. I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I muft speak: chufe your revenge yourself,
Impofe me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my fin; yet finn'd I not,
But in miftaking.

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 Mefina here

How innocent the dy'd; and if your love

D 2

Can

Can labcar ought in fad invention,
Hang her an Epitaph upon her tomb,
And fing it to her bones, fing it to-night:
To-morrow morning come you to my houfe,
And fince you could not be my fon-in-law,
Be yet my nephew; my brother hath a daughter,
Almoft the copy of my child that's dead,

And fhe 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:
I do embrace your offer; and difpofe

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 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 afs: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment; and alfo (26) the watch heard them talk

of

(26) The Watch heard them talk of one Deformed; they fay be wears a key in bis ear, and a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's xame, &c.] There could not be a more agreeable ridicule upon the fashion, than the Conftable's defcant upon his own blunder. One of the moft fantaftical modes of that time was the indulging a favourite lock of hair, and fuffering 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 these 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 fashion. In Lord CLARENDON's Hiftory compleated, (a book in Octavo) being a collection of heads engrav'd from the paintings of Vandike, we may fee this mode in the prints of the Duke of Bucking bam, Earl of Dorfet,

Lord

of one Deformed: they fay, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name, the which he hath us'd fo long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's fake. Pray you examine him upon that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dogb. Your Worship speaks like a moft thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains.

Dogb. God fave the foundation!

Leon. Go, I difcharge thee of thy prifoner; and I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an errant 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 wifh'd, God prohibit it. Come, neighbour. [Exeunt. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, Lords, farewel. Ant. Farewel, my Lords; we look for you to-morrow, Pedro. We will not fail.

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

Leon. Bring you these fellows on, we'll talk with Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. [Exeunt feverally.

Lord Goring, &c. all great Courtiers.-As to the key in the ear, and the lock hanging by it, there may be a joke in the ambiguity of the terms. But whether we think, that Shakespeare meant to ridicule the fabion in the abftracted sense; or whether he fneer'd at the Courtiers, the parents of it, we fhall find the defcription equally fatirical. The key in the ear might be fuppos'd literally: For they wore rings, lockets, and ribbands in a hole made in the ear; and fometimes, rings one within another: but it might be likewife allegorically understood, to fignify, the great readiness the Courtiers had in giving ear to, or going into new follies or fashions. As for borrowing money and never paying, that is an old Common Place against the court and followers of fashions. Mr. Warburton.

SCENE changes to Leanato's House. Enter Benedick and Margaret.

Bene.

PR

RAY thee, fweet miftrefs Margaret, deferve well at my hands, by helping me to the speech

of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a fonnet in praise of my beauty?

Bene. In fo high a ftile, Margaret, that no man liv. ing fhall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thon deferveft it.

(27) Marg. To have no man come over me? why, fhall I always keep above 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 moft manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and fo, I pray thee, call Beatrice; I give thee the bucklers.

Marg. Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our

cwn.

Bane. 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 Margaret. Bene. And therefore will come. [Sings.] The God of love, that fits above, and knows me, and knows me, how pitiful I deferve,-I mean, in finging; but in loving, Leander, the good fwimmer, Troilus the firft employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam

(27) To have no man come over me? why, fhall I always keep below fairs? Thus all the printed copies, but, fure, erroneously: for all the jeft, that can lie in the paffage, is deftroyed by it? Any man might come over her, literally speaking, if the always kept below ftairs. By the correction I have ventured to make, Margaret, as I prefume, muft mean, What! fhall I always keep above stairs? i. e. Shall I for ever continue a Chambermaid?

carpet

carpet-mongers, whofe names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verfe; why, they were never fo truly turn'd over and over, as my poor felf in love; marry, I cannot fhew it in rhime; I have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but baby, an innocent's rhime; for fcorn, born, a hard rhime; for fchool, fool, a babbling rhime; very ominous endings; no, I was not born under a rhiming planet, for I cannot woo in festival

terms.

Enter Beatrice.

Sweet Beatrice, would't thou come when I call thee? Beat. Yea, Signior, and depart when you bid me, Bene. O, ftay but 'till then.

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

Bene. Only foul words, and thereupon I will kifs thee. Beat. Foul words are but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noifome; therefore I will depart unkift.

Bene. Thou haft frighted the word out of its right fenfe, fo forcibly is thy wit; but I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will fubfcribe him a coward; and, I pray thee, now tell me, for which of my bad parts didit thou firft fall in love with me?

Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd fo politick 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 fuffer love for me?

Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet; I do fuffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Beat. In fpight of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart, if you fpight it for my fake, I will fpight it for yours; for I will never love that, which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wife to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confeffion; there's not one wife man among twenty that will praise himself. Bene. An old, an old inftance, Beatrice, that liv'd