And never fhall it more be gracious. Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? Beat. Why, how now, Coufin, wherefore fink you down? John. Come, let us go; thefe things, come thus to light, Smother her spirits up. [Exeunt D. Pedro, D. John and Claud. SCENE II. Bene. How doth the lady? Beat. Dead, I think; help, uncle. Hero! why, Hero! uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar! Leon. O fate! take not away thy heavy hand, Death is the fairest cover for her fhame, That may be wifh'd for. Beat. How now, coufin Hero? Friar. Have comfort, Lady. Leon. Doft thou look up? Friar. Yea, wherefore fhould fhe not? Leon. Wherefore? why, doth not every earthly thing Cry fhame upon her? could fhe here deny For did I think, thou wouldst not quickly die, 5 The story that is printed in ber blood?] That is, the Story which her blushes difcover to be true. 6 Griev'd I, I had but one ? I've I've one too much by thee. Why had I one? Valuing of her; why, fhe, -- O, fhe is fall'n that he fent me a girl and not a boy? But this is not what he chid nature for; if he himself may be believed, it was because fhe had given him but one: and in that he owns he did foolishly, for he now finds he had one too much. He called her frugal, therefore, in giving him but one child (for to call her so because fhe chofe to fend a girl, rather than a boy, would be ridiculous). So that we must certainly read, Chid I for this at frugal nature's 'FRAINE, i. e. refraine, or keeping back her further favours, Stopping her hand, as we say, when She had given him one. But the Oxford Editor has, in his ufual way, improved this amendment, by fubftituting band for 'fraine. WARBURTON. Though frame be not the word which appears to a reader of the prefent time most proper to exhibit the poet's fentiment, yet it may as well be ufed to fhew that he had one child, and no more, as that he had a girl,not a boy; and 4 And falt too little, which may feafon give Bene. Sir, Sir, be patient; For my part, I am fo attir'd in wonder, Beat. O, on my foul, my coufin is bely'd. Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron. For I have only been filent fo long, And given way unto this courfe of fortune, A thoufand blufhing apparitions To start into her face; a thousand innocent fhames. In angel whitenefs bear away thofe blufhes; And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, To burn the errors that thefe Princes hold Again her maiden truth. Call me a fool, Truft not my reading, nor my obfervations, Which with experimental feal do warrant The tenour of my book; truft not my age, My reverence, calling, nor divinity, If this fweet lady lie not guiltlefs here Under fome biting error. Leon. Friar, it cannot be; Thou feeft, that all the grace, that she hath left, A fin of perjury; fhe not denies it: Why feek'it thou then to cover with excufe Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of *? Hero. They know, that do accufe me; I know none: If I know more of any man alive, Than that which maiden modefty doth warrant, Friar. There is fome ftrange mifprifion in the Princes. Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour, And if their wifdoms be mif-led in this, The Practice of it lives in John the bastard, Leon. I know not: if they speak but truth of her, Thefe hands fhall tear her; if they wrong her honour, The proudeft of them fhall well hear of it. Time hath not yet fo dry'd this blood of mine, Nor fortune made fuch havock of my means, 8 Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of?] The friar had just before boafted his great fkillin fifhing out the truth. And indeed, he appears, by this question, to be no fool. He was by, all the while at the accufa. tion, and heard no names mentioned. Why then should he afk her what man he was accufed of? But in this lay the fubtilty of his examination. For had Hero been guilty, it was very probable that, in that hurry and confufion of fpirits, into which the terrible infult of her lover had thrown her, fhe would never have obferved that the man's name was not mentioned; and fo, on this question, have VOL. III. betrayed herself by naming the perfon fhe was confcious of an affair with. The friar obferved this, and fo concluded, that were fhe guilty fhe would probably fall into the trap he laid for her. I only take notice of this to fhew how admirably well Shakespeare knew how to fuftain his characters. WARBURTON. 9 bent of honour,] Bent is ufed by our author for the utmost degree of any paffion or mental quality. In this play before, Benedick fays of Beatrice, ber affection has its full bent. The expreflion is derived from archery; the bow has its bent when it is drawn as far as it can be. Nor my bad life reft me fo much of friends, And let my counfel fway you in this cafe. And publish it, that he is dead, indeed: Leon. What fhall become of this? what will this do? half Change flander to remorfe; that is fome good: In former copies, to her own Rank, and the Place to its true Meaning. Your Daughter here the Princes lift for dead; i. e. Don Pedre, Prince of Arragon; and his Ballard Brother who is likewife called a Prince. THEOBALD. oftentation,] Show; ap 2 pearance. When |