Claud. What! Courage Man: What tho' Care kill'd a Cat, thou haft Mettle enough to kill Care.

Ben. Sir, I fhall meet your Wit in the Career, and you charge it against me. I pray you chufe another Subject. Claud. Nay, then give him another Staff, this laft was broke crofs.

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 blefs 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 kill'd a fweet Lady, and her Death fhall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well I will meet you, foI 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 most curioufly, 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 hadft a fine Wit; true fays fhe, a fine little one; no, faid I, a great Wit; right fays 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, faid 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 the an hour together tranf-fhape thy particular Virtues, yet at laft fhe concluded with a Sigh, thou waft the propereft Man in Italy.

Čland. For the which the wept heartily, and faid the car'd not.

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

Claud

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God faw him when he was hid in the Garden.

Pedro. But when fhall we fet the falvage 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 Braggards 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 Bastard is fled from Messina; you have among you killed a fweet and innocent Lady for my Lord Lack-beard there; he and I shall 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.

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 fed?

Dog. Come you, Sir, if Juftice cannot tame you, fhe fhall ne'er weigh more Reasons in her Ballance; nay, and be a curfing Hypocrite once, you must be look'd to.

you

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?

Dog. Marry, Sir, they have committed false Report, moreover they have spoken Untruths; fecondarily they are Slanders; fixth and laftly, they have belied a Lady; thirdly, they have verified unjuft Things, and to conclude they are lying Knaves.

Pedro. Firft I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their Offence; fixth and laftly, why they

are

are committed, and to conclude, what lay you to their Charge?

Cland. Rightly reason'd, and in his own Division, and by my Troth, there's one meaning well fuited.

Pedro. Whom have you offended, Mafters, that you are thus bound to your Anfwer? This learned Conftable is too cunning to be understood, what's your Offence?

Bora. Sweet Prince, let me go no farther to mine Anfwer; do you hear me, and let this Count kill me; I have deceiv'd even your very Eyes; what your Wifdoms could not discover, these fhallow Fools have brought to light, who in the Night heard 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 thould marry her; my Villany they have upon Record, which I had rather feal with my Death, than repeat over to my Shame; the Lady is dead dead upon mine and my Master's false Accufation, and briefly, I defire nothing but the Reward of a Villain.

Pedro. Runs not this Speech like Iron through your Blood?

Claud. I have drunk Poison while he utter'd it.

Pedro. But did my Brother fet thee on to this?
Bora. Yea, and paid me rich for the Practice of it.
Pedro: He is compos'd of Treachery,

And fled he is upon this Villany.

Claud. Sweet Hero, now thy Image doth appear

In the rare Semblance that I lov'd it firft.

Dog. Come bring away the Plaintiffs, by this time our Sexton hath inform'd Signior Leonato of the Matter; and Mafters, do not forget to specifie when time and place fhall ferve, that I am an Afs.

Verg. Here, here comes Mafter Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.

Enter Leonato.

Leon. Which is the Villain? Let me fee his Eyes, That when I note another Man like him,

I

may avoid him; which of thefe is he?

Bora. If you would know your Wronger, look on me.

Leon.

Leon. Art thou, art thou the Slave that with thy Breath Haft kill'd mine innocent Child?

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not fo Villain, thou beli'st thy self; Here ftand 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.
Claud. I know not how to pray your Patience,
Yet I muft fpeak, chufe your Revenge your felf,
Impose me to what Penance your Invention
Can lay upon my Sin; yet finn'd I not,
But in miftaking.

Pedro. By my Soul nor I;

'And yet to fatisfie this good old Man, I would bend under any heavy weight That he'll enjoin me too.

Leon. You cannot bid my Daughter live again,
That were impoffible; but I pray you both
Poffefs the People in Melfina here

How innocent the dy'd, and if your Love
Can labour 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 House,
And fince you could not be
could not be my Son-in-Law,
Be yet my Nephew; my Brother hath a Daughter
Almoft the Copy of my Child that's dead,

And he alone is Heir to both of us,

Give her the Right you should have giv'n 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 packt in all this Wrong,

Hired to it by your Brother.

Bora.

Bora. No by my Soul fhe was not.

Nor knew not what she did when the spoke to me,
But always hath been juft and virtuous,

In any thing that I do know by her.

Dog. Moreover, Sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this Plaintif here, the Offender did call me Afs; I beseech you let it be remembred in his Punishment; and also the Watch heard them talk of one Deformed: They fay he wears a Key in his Ear, and a Lock hanging by it, and and borrows Mony 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 Sake. Pray you examine him upon that Point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy Care and honest Pains.

Dog. Your Worship speaks like a moft thankful and reverend Youth; and I praife God for you.

Leon. There's for thy Pains.

Dog. God fave the Foundation.

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy Prisoner; and I thank thee.

Dog. I leave an errant Knave with your Worship, which I beseech your Worship to correct your felf, for the Example of others. God keep your Worship; I wish your Worship well: God restore your 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.

Cland. To Night I'll mourn with Hero.

Leon. Bring you thefe Fellows on, we'll talk with Margaret, how her Acquaintance grew with this lewd Fellow. [Exeunt.

Enter Benedick and Margaret. Bene. Pray thee fweet Mistress Margaret, deferve well at my Hands, by helping me to the Speech of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of my

Beauty?

Bene. In fo high a Stile Margaret, that no Man living fhall come over it; for in moft comely Truth thou deserveft it.

Marg