Bora. Sir, I fay to you, we are none.

To. Cl. Well, Stand afide, 'fore God they are both in a Tale; have you writ down they are none?

Sexton. Mafter Town-Clerk, you go not the way to examine, you must call the Watch that are their Accufers. To. Cl. Yea, marry that's the eafieft Way, let the Watch come forth; Mafters, I charge you in the Prince's Name accuse these Men.

I Watch. This Man faid, Sir, that Don John, the Prince's Brother, was a Villain.

To. Cl. Write down, Prince John a Villain; why this is flat Perjury, to call a Prince's Brother Villain.

Bora. Mafter Town-Clerk.

To. Cl. Pray thee Fellow Peace, I do not like thy Look, I promise thee.

Sexton, What heard you him fay elfe?

z Watch. Marry, That he had receiv'd a thousand Ducats of Don John, for the accufing the Lady Hero wrong. fully.

Kemp. Flat Burglary as ever was committed.

Dog. Yea by th' Mass that it is.

Sexton. What else Fellow?

I Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his Words, to disgrace Hero before the whole Affembly, and not marry her.

To. Cl. O Villain! thou wilt be condemn'd into everlasting Redemption for this.

Sexton. What else?

2 Watch. This is all.

Sexton. And this is more Mafters than you can deny, Prince John is this Morning fecretly ftol'n away: Hero was in this manner accus'd, in this very manner refus'd, and upon the Grief of this fuddenly dy'd. Mafter Conftable, let thefe Men be bound, and brought to Leonato; I will go before, and fhew him their Examination.

Dog. Come, let them be opinion'd.

Sexton. Let them be in the Hands of Coxcomb.

[Exit.

Dog. God's my Life, where's the Sexton? Let him write down the Prince's Officer Coxcomb, come, bind them, thou naughty Varlet.

Conr.

Conr. Away, you are an Afs, you are an Afs.

Dog. Doft thou not fufpect my Place? doft thou not fufpect my Years? O that he were here to write me down an Afs! But Mafters, remember that I am an Afs, tho' it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an Afs; no thou Villain, thou art full of Piety, as fhall be prov'd upon thee by good Witnefs, I am a wife Fellow, and which is more, an Officer; and which is more an Houíholder; and which is more, as pretty a Piece of Flesh as any in Messina, and one that knows the Law, go to, and a rich Fellow enough, go to, and a Fellow that hath had Loffes, and one that hath two Gowns, and every thing handsome about him, bring him away; O that I had been writ down an [Exit.

Afs.

F

Enter Leonato and Antonio.

Am. If yod is not Wildon thus to fecond Grief,

you go on thus, you will kill your felf,

Against your self.

Leon. I pray thee cease thy Counsel,
Which falls into mine Ears as profitless
As Water in a Sieve; give not me Counfel,
Nor let no Comfort elfe delight mine Ear,

But fuch a one whofe Wrongs doth fute with mine.
Bring me a Father that fo lov'd his Child,
Whofe Joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him fpeak of Patience;

Measure his Woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every Strain for Strain;
As thus for thus, and fuch a Grief for fuch,
In every Lineament, Branch, Shape, and Form;
If fuch a one will fmile and ftroke his Beard,
And hollow, wag, cry hem, when he should groan,
Patch Grief with Proverbs, make Misfortune drunk,
With Candle-wafters; bring him yet to me,

And I of him will gather Patience.

Bb 3

But

But there is no fuch Man; for Brother, Men
Can council, and give Comfort to that Grief
Which they themselves not feel, but tasting it,
Their Counsel turns to Paffion, which before
Would give preceptial Medicine to Rage,
Fetter ftrong Madness in a filken Thread,
Charm Ach with Air, and Agony with Words.
No, no, 'tis all Mens Office, to speak Patience
To those that wring under the Load of Sorrow;
But no Man's Virtue nor Sufficiency

To be fo moral, when he fhall endure

The like himself; therefore give me no Counsel,
My Griefs cry louder than Advertisement.

Ant. Therein do Men from Children nothing differ.
Leon. I pray thee Peace, I will be Flesh and Blood,
For there was never yet Philofopher,

That could endure the Tooth-ach patiently;
However they have writ the Stile of Gods,
And made a push at Chance and Sufferance.

Ant. Yet bend not all the Harm upon your self,
Make those that do offend you fuffer too.

Leon. There thou speak'ft Reason, nay I will do so,
My Soul doth tell me, Hero is bely'd,

And that fhall Claudio know, fo fhall the Prince,
And all of them that thus difhonour her.

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio.

Ant. Here comes the Prince and Claudio haftily.

Pedro. Good den, good den,

Claud: Good Day to both of you.

Leon. Hear you, my Lords!

Pedro. We have fome hafte, Leonato.

well, my Lord.

Leon. Some hafte, my Lord! well fare you well, my

Are you fo hafty now? well all is one.

Pedro. Nay do not quarrel with us, good old Man.
Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling,

Some of us would lye low.

Claud. Who wrongs him?

Leon, Marry thou doft wrong me, thou Diffembler thou: Nay never lay thy hand upon thy Sword,

I fear thee not.

Claud.

Claud. Marry befhrew my Hand,

If it should give your Age fuch Cause of Fear;
Infaith my Hand meant nothing to my Sword.

Leon. Tush, tufh, Man, never fleer and jeft at me,
I fpeak not like a Dotard nor a Fool,

As under Privilege of Age to brag,

What I have done, being young, or what would do,
Were I not old: Know Claudio, to thy Head,
Thou haft fo wrong'd my innocent Child and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my Reverence by,
And with grey Hairs and Bruife of many Days
Do challenge thee to trial of a Man;

I fay thou haft bely'd mine innocent Child,

Thy Slander hath gone through and through her Heart,
And the lyes bury'd with her Ancestors:

O in a Tomb where never Scandal slept,
Save this of hers, fram'd by thy Villany.
Claud. My Villany?

Leon. Thine Claudio, thine I fay.
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.
Leon. Can't thou fo daffe me? Thou haft kill'd my Child;
If thou kill'ft me Boy, thou shalt 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 Sir Boy; come, follow me,
Sir Boy, I'll whip you from your foining Fence;
Nay, as I am a Gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother.

Ant. Content your felf, God knows I lov'd my Neice, And he is dead, flander'd to Death by Villains,

That dare as well answer a Man indeed,

As I dare take a Serpent 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 Scruple:
Scambling, outfacing, fashion-mongring Boys,
That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander,
Go antickly, and show an outward Hideoufnefs,
And fpeak of 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 mater,

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. Pedro. I will not hear you.

Enter Benedick.

Leon. No! come Brother away, I will be heard.

[Exeunt ambo. Ant. And fhall, or fome of us will fmart for it. Pedro. See, fee, here comes the Man we went to seek. Cland. Now Signior, what News?

Bene. Good Day, my Lord.

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

Cland. We had like to have had our two Nofes fnapt off with two old Men without Teeth.

Pedro. Leonato and his Brother; what thinkft 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.

Cland. We have been up and down to feek thee, for we are high proof Melancholly, and would fain have it beaten away: Wilt thou use thy Wit?

Bene. It is in my Scabbard; fhall I draw it?

Pedro. Doft thou wear thy Wit by thy Side?

Claud. Never any did fo, tho' very many have been be fide 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 Sick, or Angry?

Cland