brings home full numbers; I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, call'd Claudio.

Mell. Much deferved on his part, and equally remembred by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promfe of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion he hath, indeed, better better'd expectation, than you muft expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He hath an uncle here in Melfina will be very much glad of it.

Mell. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even fo much, that joy could not fhew itself modeft enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Meff. In great measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness.

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There are no

faces truer than thofe that are fo wafh'd. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping! Beat. I pray you, is Signior Montanto return'd from the wars or no?

Meff. I know none of that name, Lady; there was none fuch in the army of any Sort.

2

Leon. What is he that you afk for, Need!

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jey could not fhew it felf modeft enough, without a badge of bitterness.] This is judiciously exprefs'd. Of all the tranfports of Joy, that which is attended with tears is leaft of fenfive; because, carrying with it this mark of pain, it allays the envy that ufually attends another's happiness. This he finely calls a modeft joy, fuch a one as did not infult the observer by an indication of happiness unmixed with pain. WARBURTON.

3

no faces truer] That

Hero. My Coufin means Signior Benedick of Padua. Melf. O, he's return'd, and as pleasant as ever he

was.

Beat. He fet up his bills here in Messina, and challeng'd Cupid at the flight; and my Uncle's fool, reading the challenge, fubfcrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in thefe wars? but how many hath he kill'd? for, indeed, I promis'd to eat all of his killing.

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Leon. Faith, Neice, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not, Melf. He hath done good fervice, Lady, in thefe

wars.

Beat. You had musty victuals, and he hath holp to eat it; he's a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent ftomach.

Melf. And a good foldier too, Lady.

·Beat. And a good foldier to a lady? but what is he to a lord?

Melf. A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stufft with all honourable virtues.

Beat. It is fo, indeed: he is no lefs than a stufft man: but for the ftuffing, well, we are all mortal. Leon. You must not, Sir, miftake my Niece; there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her; they never meet, but there's a fkirmish of Wit between them.

Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by That. In our last

challeng'd Cupid at the fight; the difufe of the bow makes this paffage obfcure. Bemedick is reprefented as challenging Cupid at archery. To challenge at the flight is, I believe, to wager who fhall shoot the arrow furtheft without any particular mark. To challenge at the

bird-bolt, seems to mean the fame as to challenge at children's archery, with small arrows fuch as are difcharged at birds. In Twelfth Night, Lady Olivia op. pofes a bird-bolt to a cannon bullet, the lightest to the heavieft of miffive weapons.

conflict

conflict, four of his 'five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man govern'd with one: So that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horfe; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature... Who is his companion now? he hath every month a new fworn brother.

Me. Is it poffible?<

Beat. Very easily poffible; he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.

"

Melf. I fee, Lady', the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No; an he were, I would burn my Study.

-four of his five wits] In our author's time, wit was the general term for intellectual powers. So Davies on the Soul, Wit, feeking truth, from caufe to caufe afcends,

And never refts till it the first attain;

Will, Seeking good, finds many middle ends,

But never stays till it the last do gain.

And in another part,

But if a phrenzy do poffefs the brain,

It fo diflurbs and blots the form of things,

As fantofy proves altogether vain, And to the wit no true relation brings.

Then doth the wit, admitting all for true, Build fond conclufions on thofe idle grounds;

The its feem to have reekon ed five, by analogy to the five fenfes, or the five inlets of ideas.

I

But, I pray you, who is his companion? is there no young fquarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the devil?

Meff. He is moft in the company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. O lord, he will hang upon him like a disease ; he is sooner caught than the peftilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio, if he have caught the Benedick, it will coft him a thoufand pounds ere he be cur'd.

Mell. I will hold friends with you, Lady.
Beat. Do, good friend.

Leon. You'll ne'er run mad, Neice.
Beat. No, not 'till a hot January.
Melf. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and Don John.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fafhion of the world is to avoid coft, and you encounter it.

Leon. Never camé trouble to my houfe in the like. nefs of your Grace; for trouble being gone, comfort should remain, but when you depart from me, forrow abides, and happiness takes his leave.

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Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I think this is your daughter.

Leon. Her mother hath many times told me fo.

young Squarer-] A Squarer I take to be a choleric, quarrelfome fellow, for in this fenfe Shakespeare ufes the word to Square. So in Midsummer Night's Dream it is faid of Oberon and Titanir, that they never meet but

VOL. III.

they fquare. So the fenfe may be, Is there no hot-blooded youth that will keep him company through all his mad pranks ?

3 You embrace your charge-] That is, your burthen, jour encumbrance.

Bene. Were you in doubt, Sir, that you afkt her? Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child

Pedro. You have it full, Benedick; we may guess by this what you are, being a man: truly the lady fathers herfelf; be happy, lady, for you are like an

honourable father.

Bene. If Signior Leonato be her father, fhe would not have his head on her fhoulders for all Meffina, as like him as she is.

Beat. I wonder, that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick; no body marks you.

Bene. What, my dear lady Difdain! are you yet living?

Beat, Is it poffible, Difdain fhould die, while fhe hath fuch meet food to feed it, as Signior Benedick? Courtefie itself must convert to Difdain, if you come in her prefence.

Bene. Then is courtefie a turncoat; but it is certain, I am lov'd of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.

Beat. A dear happiness to women; they would elfe have been troubled with a pernicious fuitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that; I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man fwear he loves me.

Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! fo fome gentleman or other fhall fcape a predeftinate fcratcht face.

Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere fuch a face as yours were.

Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

Beat. A bird of my tongue is better than a beaft of yours.

Bene. I would, my horfe had the speed of your tongue, and fo good a continuer; but keep your way o'God's name, I have done.

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Beat.