Verg. Here, here comes master signior Leonato, and the Sexton too. Re-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the Sexton. Leon. Go, I discharge thee of toy prisoner, and I thank thee. Dogb. A leave an arrant knave with yatr worship; which, I beseech your worship, in correct yourself, for the example of others. Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see his God keep your worship: I wish your worship Mine innocent child? Bora. Yea, even I alone. Leon. No, not so, villain; thou beli'st thy- Here stand a pair of honourable men, Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, Yet I must speak: Choose your revenge yourself; Impose me to what penance your invention D. Pedro. By my soul, nor 1; And yet, to satisfy this good old man, Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live, ter, Almost the copy of my child that's dead, well; God restore you to health : 1 humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry mexting may be wished, God probibut it.-Come, neighbr. [Exeunt DOG BERRY, VERGES, and WATCH Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, tare well. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for pra to-morrow, D. Pedro. We will not fail. [Exeunt Don PEDRO and Claudio. Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'd LA with Margaret, How her acquaintance grew with this lead' SCENE II.-LEONATO's Garden. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting. Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margaat, deserve well at my hauds, by helping me to De speech of Beatrice. Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty? Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that bo mau living shall come over it: for, in most comely truth, thou deservest it. Marg. To have no man come over me? why, shall I always keep below stairs ? Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound"ı mouth, it catches. Marg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, which bit, but hurt not. Bene: A most wanly wit, Margaret, it vi not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, cal daugh-Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers. Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our own. Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you EES Give her the right you should have given her put in the pikes with a vice; and they are das cousin, And so dies my revenge. Claud. O noble Sir, Your over-kindess doth wring tears from me! I do embrace your offer; and dispose For henceforth of poor Claudio. Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your To-night I take my leave.-This naughty man Bora. No, by my soul, she was not; gerous weapons for maids. Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, whe, [Ecit MARGA SET. Bene. And therefore will come. I think, hath legs. The god of love, That sits abore, {Singing.] And knows me, and knows me, How pitiful I deserve,— I mean in singing; but in loving,-Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quo dam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to they were never so truly turned over and over 25 me; But always hath been just and virtuons, Dogb. Moreover, Sir, (which, indeed, is not under white and black,) this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock banging by it; and borrows money in God's name; the which he bath used so 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. my poor self, in love: Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried; I can find out no Thy we to lady bat baby, an innocent rhyme; for scars, horn, a hard rhyme; for school, fool, a hab bling rhyme; very omnious endings: No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms. † Enter BEATRICE. Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee? Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. Bene. Oh! stay but till then! Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now :and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thank-for, which is, with knowing what hath passed ful and reverend youth and I praise God for between you and Claudio. ! Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And I, pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me? Beat. For them all together; which maintained so politic a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of any good parts did you first suffer love for me? Bene. Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will. Beat. In spite of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates. Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours: if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps. Reat. And how long is that, think you? Bene. Question?-Why, an hour in clamour. and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient for the wise, (if Don Worm his conscience, find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself: So much for praising myself, (who, 1 myself will bear witness, is praise-worthy,) and now tell me, How doth your cousin? འ ་་ Beat. Very ill. Bene. And how do you? Beat. Very ill too. Rene. Serve God, love me, and mend: then will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste. Enter URSULA, Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone will you come presently? Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior? Bene. I will live in thy beart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will [Exeunt. go with thee to thy uncle's. SCENE HI.-The inside of a Church. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and ATTEN- Claud, Is this the monument of Leonato? Cland. [Reads from a scroll.] Done to death by slanderous tongues [Affixing it. Praising her when I am dumb.Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn bymn, SONG. Pardon, goddess of the night, Round about her tomb they go. Help us to sigh and groan, Graves, yawn, and yield your deud, Claud. Now, unto thy bones good night! D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray: Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Claud. Good inorrow, masters; each his several way. D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds; And then to Leonato's we will go. Claud. And Hymen, now with luckier issue Than this, for whom we render'd up this woel SCENE IV.—A Room in LEONATO's House. Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Upon the error that you heard debated: Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so Bene. And so am I, being else by faith an forc'd To call young Clandio to a reckoning for it. Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; [Exeunt Ladies. Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd couu tenance. Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. Friar. To do what, signior? Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signier, Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite Leon. The sight whereof, I think you had from me, From Claudio and the prince; But what's your will? Bene. Your answer, Sir, is enigmatical: Here comes the prince, and Claudio. Enter Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO, with D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assem- Leon. Good-morrow, prince; good-morrow, We here attend yon; are you yet determin'd Leo 1. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, That you have such a February face, Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage (gold, Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with Which is the lady I must seize upon ? Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me see your face. Bene. 'Tis no such matter :-Then, you d› us love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves Hero. And here's another, Bene. A miracle! here's our own bards against our hearts!-Come, I will have thee; but by the light, I take thee for pity. Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this ened day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, party, to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.- Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her wit crackers cannot flout me out of my best: Before this Friar and swear to marry her. [hand Dost thou think, I care for a satire, or an epi Claud. Give me your hand before this holy gram? No: if a man will be beaten with brass, I am your husband, if you like of me. [friar; he shall wear nothing handsome about bis: lo Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other brief, since I do propose to marry, I will think wife: [Unmasking. nothing to any purpose that the world can say And when you loved, you were my other husband. against it; and therefore never float at me for Claud. Another Hero? what I have said against it; for man is a gdy Hero, Nothing certainer : thing, and this is my conclusion.-For thy part, One Hero died defil'd; but I do live, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee: bat in And, surely as I live, I am a maid. that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin. D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slan- Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice? Bene. Do not you love me? Beat. No, no more than reason. Have been deceived; for they swore you did. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did. Beat, They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me. Claud. I bad well hoped, thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have codgelled the out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. Bene. Come, come, we are friends ;—let's have a dauce ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' beels. Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Prince, thou art sad; get thee a 'wife, get thee a §11AKSPEARE was supposed to have taken the two plots of this admirable play from an Italian novel, and from a collection of old stories, printed by Wynkin de Worde, under the title of Gesta Romanorum; but as a play comprehending the incidents of both had been exhibited long before he commenced writing for the stage, he probably chose the latter as a model for his own production. It matters not, however, from what source a dramatic author derives his plot, so that he plan it well, and make good use of it afterward; and Johnson says, that in this play "the union of two actions in one eveut is eminently happy;" excelling even Dryden's skilful conjunction of the two plots in his Spanish Friar, yet the interest of the action can scarcely be said to continue beyond the disgrace of Shylock, in the fourth act; since expectation is so strongly fixed upon "justice and the bond," that it ceases to exist after they are satisfied. In the defeat of cunning, and in the triumph of humanity, the most powerful feelings of our nature are successively appealed to: thus anticipation is keenly alive, so long as Antonio's fate is dark and undecided. But with the development of that, the charm is at an end. The power of excitement expires with the object upon which the feelings were centered; and as the lesser passions are susceptible of little delight, when the greater have been subjected to ary unusual stimulant, the common-place trifles of the concluding act are rather endured with patience, than received with gratification. The character of Shylock is no less original, than it is finely finished: "the language, allusions, and ideas (says Henly) are so appropriate to a Jew, that Shylock might be exhibited ***for an exemplar of that peculiar people;" nor are the other personages unpleasingly drawn or inadequately supported. Of detached passages, Portia's description of the qualities and excellence of mercy, may be selected as one of the moblest attributes with which Genius has ever exalted the excellence of any particular SALANIO, GRATIANO, OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot. STEPHANO, Servants to Portia. SALARINO, Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. PORTIA, a rich Heiress : LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBо, a Clown, Servant to Shy lock. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of SCENE-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portla, on the Continent. ACT I. SCENE 1.-Venice.-A Street. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean: • Ships of large burthen, probabiy galleons. Would blow me to an ague when I thought And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks; To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad ? But, tell not me: I know, Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. And langh, like parrots, at a bagpiper; Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; entertain, And do a wilful stillness If they should speak, would almost dann these ears, Which, hearing them, would call their bridică, Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dissetime: I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gra. Well, keep me company but two yeas more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine or tongue. Aut. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for tu same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, Satur. I would have staid till I had made you Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so? yours. [Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you: but at dinner time, Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Let me play the Fool: Gra. With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; dice Wherein my time, something too prodigal。 › And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, Bass. In my school days, when I had lost le shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same fizbt both, I oft found both: I urg'd this childhood proof, I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but time, To wind about my love with circumstance; |