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?

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 prefence, hath ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina.

Dogb. A good old man, Sir; he will be talking, as they say; 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 horfe, one must ride behind-an honest soul, i'faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread, but God is to be worshipp'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.

For as a great Wit fays, Youth is the feafon of Virtue corruptions grow with years, and I believe the oldeft rogue in England is the greatest. WARBURTON. Much of this is true, but I believe Shakespeare did not intend to bestow all this reflection on the speaker.

If two men ride, &c.] This

is not out of place, or without meaning. Dogberry, in his vanity of fuperiour parts, apologizing for his neighbour, obferves, that, of two men on a horse, one must ride behind, The first place of rank, or understanding, can belong but to one, and that happy one ought not to defpife his inferiour.

Dogh.

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

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

Dogb. It fhall be fuffigance.

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

Meff. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready.

[Exeunt Leonato. 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. And we must do it wifely.

Dogb. We will fpare for no wit, I warrant; here's That [touching his forehead] 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.

ACT

ACT

IV.

SCENE I

A CHURCH.

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

LEONATO.

OME, friar Francis, be brief, only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.

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

Claud. 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. How now! Interjections? why, then fome be of laughing, as, ha, ha, he!

Claud. Stand thee by, friar: father, by your leave; Will you with free and unconstrained foul

5 Some be of laughing.] This is a quotation from the Accidence.

Give

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 itself withal!

Comes not that blood, as modeft evidence,
To witnefs fimple 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 modefty.

Leon. What do you mean. my Lord?
Claud. Not to be marry'd,

6

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,

6- luxurious bed;] That is, lalcivious. Luxury is the confeffor's term for unlawful pleafures of the sex.

7 Dear my Lord, if you in your own Proof] I am furpriz'd, the Poetical Editors did not obferve the Lameness of this Verfe. It evidently wants a Syllable in the laft Foot, which I have reftor'd by a Word, which, I pre6

fume, the firft Editors might he fitate at; tho' it is a very proper one, and a Word elsewhere ufed by our Author. Befides, in the Paffage under Examination, this Word comes in almoft neceffarily, as Claudio had faid in the Line immediately preceding;

Not knit m Soul to an approved Wanton.

THEOBALD.

You'll

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 fincerity, and comely love.

Hero. And feem'd I ever otherwise to you ?

Claud. Out on thy Seeming! I will write against it: You seem to me as Dian in her orb,

As chafte as is the budere it be blown :

But you are more intemperate in

your blood

Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals

That rage in favage fenfuality.

Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth speak fo wide?
Leon. Sweet Prince, why speak not you?
Pedro. What should I speak?

I ftand dishonour'd, that have

gone about To link my dear friend to a common Stale.

Leon. Are these things spoken, or do I but dream? John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. Bene. This looks not like a Nuptial.

Hero. True! O God!

Claud. Leonato, ftand I here?

Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's Brother?
Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own?

Leon. All this is fo; but what of this, my lord? Claud. Let me but move one queftion to your daughter,

2

And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.