Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you. Leon. 3 Canft thou fo daffe me? thou haft kill'd my child;

If thou kill'ft 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 first;
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 lam a gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother,

Ant. Content yourfelf; God knows, I lov'd my
Niece;

And he is dead, flander'd to death by villains,,
That dare as well anfwer a man, indeed,

As I dare take a ferpent by the tongue.
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 utmost fcruple: Scambling, out-facing, fashion monging boys,

whelm'd with grief for his only daughter's affront and dishonour; and had feverely reproved him for not commanding his paffion better on fo trying an occafion. Yet, immediately after this, no fooner does he begin to fufpect that his Age and Valour are flighted, but he falls into the molt intemperate fit of rage himfelf and all his Brother can do or fay is not of power to pacify him. This is copying nature with a penetration and exactness of judgment peculiar to ShakeSpeare. As to the expreffion, too, of his paffion, nothing can be more highly painted. WARB.

That

That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander,
Go antickly and how an outward hideousness,
And fpeak off half a dozen dangerous words,
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.

5

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

Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No! come, brother, away, I will be heard. Ant. And fhall, or fome of us will fmart for it.

Ex. ambo.

SCENE III.

Enter Benedick.

Pedro. See, fee, here comes the man we went to feek.
Claud. Now Signior, what news?
Bene. Good day, my lord.

5 we will not WAKE your patience.] This conveys a fentiment that the speaker would by no means have implied, That the patience of the two Old men was not exercised, but afleep, which upbraids them for infenfibility under their wrong. ShakeSpeare mult have wrote We will not WRACK, i. e. deftroy your patience by tantalizing you. WARBURTON. This emendation is very fpe

cious, and perhaps is right; yet the present reading may admit a congruous meaning with lefs difficulty than many other of Shakespeare's expreffions.

The old men have been both very angry and outrageous; the Prince tells them that he and Claudio will not wake their patience: will not any longer force them to endure the prefence of those whom, though they look on them as enemies, they cannot refift.

Pedro.

Pedro. Welcome, Signior; you are almost come to part almoft a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two nofes fnapt off with twe old men without teeth.

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

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 use thy wit?

Bene. It is in my fcabbard; fhall I draw it? Pedro. Doft thou wear thy wit by thy fide? 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 iubject.

Claud. Nay then give him another ftaff; this last was broke crois 6.

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!

7

Bene. You are a villain; I jeft not. I will make it

Nay, then give him another
Staff; &c.] Allufion to Tilting.
See note, As you
like it.
A& 3.
Scene 10.
WARBURTON.
to turn his girdle.]

7

We have a proverbial fpeech, If he be angry, let him turn is girdle. But I do not know its original or meaning.

good

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 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 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, says fhe, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great wit; just, faid fhe, a great grofs one; nay, faid I, a good wit; juft, faid fhe, it hurts no body; nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; certain, faid fhe, a wife gentleman; nay, faid I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, said 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 fhe wept heartily, and faid, fhe car'd not.

.Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet for all that, and if fhe did not hate him deadly, fhe 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 cour tefies I thank you; I muft difcontinue your company; your brother, the baftard, is fled from Meffina; you have among you kill'd 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 most profound earneft, 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!

SCENE IV.

Enter Dogberry, Verges, Conrade and Borachio guarded.

Claud. He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a doctor to fuch a man.

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.

What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hofe, and leaves off his wit !] It was esteemed a mark of levity and want of becoming gravity, at that time, to go in the doublet and bofe, and leave off the cloak,

to which this well turn'd expreffion alludes. The thought is, that love makes a man as ridiculous, and expofes him as naked as being in the doublet and hofe without a cloak. WARBURTON.

fhe