When he thall hear fhe dy'd upon his words,
Th' idea of her Life fhall fweetly creep
Into his ftudy of imagination,

And every lovely organ of her life

Shell come apparel'd in more precious habit;
More moving, delicate, and full of life,

Into the eye and profpect of his foul.

Than when he liv'd indeed. Then fhall he mourn,
If ever love had intereft in his liver,

And with, he had not fo accufed her;
No, though he thought his accufation true:
Let this be fo, and doubt not, but fuccefs
Will fashion the event in better fhape
Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
But if all Aim but this be levell'd falfe,
The fuppofition of the lady's death
Will quench the wonder of her infamy.
And, if it fort not well, you may conceal her,
As beft befits her wounded reputation,
In fome reclufive and religious life,

Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advife you
And though you know, my inwardness and love
Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio,
Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
As fecretly and juftly as your foul

Should with your body.

Leon. Being that I flow in grief,

The smallest twine may lead me 3.

Friar. 'Tis well confented, prefently away;

For to ftrange fores, ftrangely they train the cure.

3 The Smallest twine may lead me.] This is one of our author's obfervations upon life. Men over-powered with diftrefs eagerly liften to the first offers of relief, clofe with every

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fcheme, and believe every promife. He that has no longer any confidence in himself, is glad to repofe his truft in any other that will undertake to guide him

Come,

Come, lady, die to live; this wedding day,

Perhaps, is but prolong'd: have patience and

endure.

SCENE III.

Manent Benedick and Beatrice.

[Exeunt.

Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while ? Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

Bene. I will not defire that.

Beat. You have no reafon, I do it freely.

Bene. Surely, I do believe, your fair coufin is wrong'd.

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me, that would right her!

Bene. Is there any way to fhew fuch friendship?
Beat. A very even way, but no fuch friend.
Bene. May a man do it?

Beat. It is a man's office, but not yours.

Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you; is not that ftrange?

Beat. As ftrange as the thing I know not; it were as poffible for me to fay, I loved nothing fo well as you; but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I con

4 SCENE III.] The poet, in my opinion, has fhewn a great deal of addrefs in this fcene. Beatrice here engages her lover to revenge the injury done her coufin Hero: And without this very natural incident, confidering the character of Beatrice, and that the ftory of her Paffion for Benedick was all a fable, the could never have been eafily or naturally brought to confefs fhe loved him, notwithflanding all the foregoing preparation. And

yet, on this confeffion, in this very place, depended the whole fuccefs of the plot upon her and Benedick. For had she not owned her love here, they must have foon found out the trick, and then the defign of bringing them together had been defeated; and fhe would never have owned a paffion he had been only tricked into, had not her defire of revenging her coufin's wrong made her drop her capricious humour at once, WARBURTON.

fefs

fefs nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am forrry for my coufin.

Bene. By my fword, Beatrice, thou lov'it me.

Beat. Do not fwear by it, and eat it.

Bene. I will fwear by it that you

love me; and I

will make him eat it, that fays, I love not you.

Beat. Will you not eat your word?

Bene. With no fauce that can be devis'd to it; I proteft, I love thee.

Beat. Why then, God forgive me.

Bene. What offence, fweet Beatrice?

Beat. You have ftay'd me in a happy hour; I was about to proteft, I lov'd you.

Bene. And do it with all thy heart.

Beat. I love you with fo much of my heart, that

none is left to protest.

Bene. Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

Beat. Kill Claudio.

Bene. Ha! not for the wide world.

Beat. You kill me to deny; farewel.

Bene. Tarry, fweet Beatrice.

Beat. I am gone, tho' I am here; there is no love in you; nay, I pray you, let me go.

Bene. Beatrice,

Beat. In faith, I will go.

Bene. We'll be friends firft.

Beat. You dare eafier be friends with me, than fight with mine enemy.

Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy ?

Beat. Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath flander'd, fcorn'd, dishonour'd my kinfwoman! O, that I were a man! what! bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then with publick accufation, uncover'd flander, unmitigated rancourO God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place.

Bene. Hear me,

Beatrice.

Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ?-a proper faying!

Bene. Nay, but Beatrice.

Beat. Sweet Hero! the is wrong'd, fhe is flander'd, fhe is undone.

Bene. Beat

Beat Princes and Counts! furely, a princely teftimony, a goodly count-comfect, a fweet gallant, furely! O that I were a man for his fake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my fake! but manhood is melted into curtefies, valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too; he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lye, and fwears it: I cannot be a man with wifhing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice; by this hand, I love thee.

Beat. Ule it for my love fome other way than fwearing by it.

Bene. Think you in your foul, the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero?

Beat. Yea, as fure as I have a thought or a foul.

Bene. Enough, I am engag'd; I will challenge him, I will kifs your hand, and fo leave you; by this hand, Claudio fhall render me a dear account; as you hear of me, fo think of me; go comfort your coufin; I must fay, he is dead, and to farewel.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dogberry, Verges, Borachio, Conrade, the
Town Clerk and Sexton in Gowns.

To. Cl.

S our whole diffembly appear'd?

Dagb. O, a ftool and a cufhion for the

fexton!

Sexton.

Sexton. Which be the malefactors?

Verg. Marry, that am I and my Partner.

Degb. Nay, that's certain, we have the exhibition to examine.

Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examin'd? let them come before mafter conftable. To. Cl. Yea, marry, let them come before me; what is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

To. Cl. Pray, write down, Borachio. Yours, Sirrah? Conr. I am a gentleman, Sir, and my name is Conrade.

To. Cl. Write down, mafter gentleman Conrade; mafters, do you ferve God?

Both. Yea, Sir, we hope '.

To. Cl. Write down, that they hope they ferve God: and write God first: for God defend, but God fhould go before fuch villains -Mafters, it is proved already you are little better than falfe knaves, and it will go near to be thought fo fhortly; how anfwer you for yourfelves?

that

Conr. Marry, Sir, we fay, we are none.

To. Cl. A marvellous witty fellow, I affure you, but I will go about with him. Come you hither, firrah, a word in your ear, Sir; I fay to you, it is thought you are both falfe knaves.

Bera. Sir, I fay to you, we are none.

To. Cl. Well, ftand afide; 'fore God, they are both in a tale; have you writ down, that they are none? Sexton, Mafter town clerk, you go not the way to

1 Both. Yea, Sir, ave hope. To. Cl. Write down that they hope they ferve God: and write God first; for God defend, but God Bould go before fuch Vllains;-) This fhort Paffage, which is truly humourous and in character, I

have added from the old Quarto. Befides, it fupplies a Defect: for, without it, the Town Clerk aks a Question of the Prifoners, and goes on without flaying for any Answer to it.

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THEOBALD.

examine,