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Marg. A maid, and ftufft! there's goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profeft apprehenfion?

Marg. Ever fince you left it; doth not my wit become me rarely?

Beat. It is not feen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am fick.

Marg. Get you fome of this diftill'd Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prick'ft her with a thistle.

Beat. Benedictus? why Benedictus? you have fome moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy-thiftle: you may think, perchance, that I think you are in love; nay, birlady, I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift; nor I lift not to think what I can; nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Benedick was fuch another, and now is he become a man; he fwore, he would never marry; and yet now, in defpight of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging; and how you may be converted, I know not; but, methinks, you look with your eyes as other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps ?
Marg. Not a falfe gallop.

Urfu. Madam, withdraw; the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the Gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church.

Hero. Help to drefs me, good coz, good Meg, good Urfula.

[Exeunt.

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Another Apartment in Leonato's Houfe.

Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.

Leon. W

'HAT would you with me, honeft neighbour?

Dogb. Marry, Sir, I would have fome confidence with you, that decerns you nearly.

Leon. Brief, I pray you; for, you fee, 'tis a bufy time with me.

Dogb. Marry, this it is, Sir.

Verg. Yes, in truth it is, Sir.

Leon. What is it, my good friends?

Dogb. Goodman Verges, Sir, fpeaks a little of the matter; an old man, Sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would defire they were; but, in faith, as honeft as the skin between his brows.

2

Verg. "Yes, I thank God, I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honefter ❝ than I."

86

Dogb. Comparisons are odorous; palabras, neighbour Verges.

Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious.

Dogb. It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor Duke's officers; but, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. Leon. All thy tedioufnefs on me, ha?

2 I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honeßer than I There is much humour, and extreme good fenfe under the cover of this blundering expreffion. It is a fly infinuation that length of years, and the being much backnied in the ways of men, as Shakespear expreffes it, take off the glofs of virtue, and bring much defilement on the manners. For as a great Wit fays, Youth is the feafon of Virtue: corruptions grow with gears, and I believe the oldeft Rogue in England is the greatest.

Dogb

Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your worship as of any man in the city; and tho' I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.

Verg. And fo am I.

Leon. I would fain know what you have to say. Verg. Marry, Sir, our Watch to night, excepting your worship's presence, hath ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina.

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Dogb. "A good old man, Sir; he will be talking, as they fay; when the age is in, the wit is out; God help us, it is a world to fee: well faid, i'faith, "neighbour Verges, well, he's a good man; an two "men ride an horse, one must ride behind; an honest "foul, i'faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke "bread, but God is to be worfhipp'd; all men are "not alike, alas, good neighbour !"

Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too fhort of you.' Dogb. Gifts, that God gives.

Leon. I muft leave you.

Dogb. One word, Sir; our Watch have, indeed, comprehended two aufpicious perfons; and we would have them this morning examin'd before your worship.

Leon. Take their examination your felf, and bring it me; I am now in great hafte, as may appear unto you.

Dogb. It fhall be suffigance.

Leon. Drink fome wine ere you go: fare you well. Enter a Melenger.

Mell. My lord, they ftay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready. [Ex. Leon. Dogb. Go, good Partner, go get you to Francis Seacoale, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail; we are now to examine those men.

Verg.

Verg. And we must do it wifely.

Dogb. "We will fpare for no wit, I warrant; here's That fhall drive fome of them to a non"come." Only get the learned writer to fet down our excommunication, and meet me at the Jail. [Exeunt.

A CT IV. SCENE I.

A CHURCH.

Enter D. Pedro, D. John, Leonato, Friar, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice.

LEONATO.

COME, friar Francis, be brief, only to the plain

form of marriage, and you fhall recount their particular duties afterwards.

Friar. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this lady?

Glaud. No.

Leon. To be marry'd to her, friar; you come to marry her.

Friar. Lady, you come hither to be marry'd to this Count?

Hero. I do.

Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoin'd, I charge you on your fouls to utter it.

Claud. Know you any, Hero?

Hero. None, my Lord.

Friar. Know you any, Count?

Leon. I dare make his anfwer, none.

Claud. O what men dare do! what men may do! what Men daily do! not knowing what they do!

Bene.

Bene. How now! Interjections? why, then some be of laughing, as ha, ha, he!

Claud. Stand thee by, friar: father, by your leave; Will you with free and unconstrained foul Give me this maid your daughter?

Leon. As freely, fon, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whofe worth

May counterpoife this rich and precious gift?
Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.
Claud. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankful-
nefs:

There, Leonato, take her back again;

Give not this rotten orange to your friend.
She's but the fign and femblance of her honour;
Behold, how like a maid fhe blushes here!
O, what authority and fhew of truth
Can cunning fin cover it felf withal!
Comes not that blood, as modeft evidence,
To witness simple virtue? would you not swear,
All you that fee her, that fhe were a maid,
By these exterior fhews? but she is none:
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
Her blush is guiltinefs, not modesty.
Leon. What do you mean, my Lord?
Claud. Not to be marry'd,

Not knit my foul to an approved Wanton.

Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof Have vanquish'd the refiftance of her youth,

And made defeat of her virginity

Claud. I know what you would fay: if I have
known her,

You'll fay, fhe did embrace me as a husband,
And fo extenuate the forehand fin,

No, Leonato,

I never tempted her with word too large;
But, as a brother to his fifter, fhew'd

Bashful

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