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Manent Benedick and Beatrice. "

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 reason, 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 fo well as you; is not that strange?

Beat. As ftrange as the thing I know not: It were as poffible for me to fay, I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am forry for my coufin.

Bene. By my fword, Beatrice, thou lov'ft me.
Beat. Do not fwear by it and eat it.

2 Manent Benedick and Beatrice.] 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 story of her paffion for Benedick was all a fable, she could never have been eafily or naturally brought to confefs fhe loved him, notwithstanding 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 the not owned her love here, they must have foon found out the trick, and then the design of bringing them together had been defeated; and he would never have owned a paffion fhe had been only tricked into, had not her defire of revenging her coufin's wrong made her drop her capricious humour at once. WARBURTON.

Bene.

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 ftaid me in a happy hour; I was about to protest, I lov'd you.

Bene. And do it with all thy heart.

Beat. I love you with so 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 it; farewell.

Bene. Tarry, fweet Beatrice.

Beat. I am gone, though 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 first.

Beat. You dare easier 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, difhonour'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 rancour O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place.

Bene. Hear me, Beatrice.

3 I am gone, tho' I am here :] i. e. I am out of your mind already, tho' I remain in perfon before you. STEEVENS,

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

Bene. Nay, but Beatrice.

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

Bene. Beat

Bene. Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, 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. Ufe 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 kiss 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 muft fay, fhe is dead; and fo farewell.

SCENE II.

Changes to a Prifon.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dogberry, Verges, Borachio, Conrade, the Town

Clerk and Sexton in

gowns.

To. Cl. Is our whole diffembly appear'd?

Dogb.

Dogb. O, a ftool and a cushion for the fexton!
Sexton. Which be the malefactors?

Verg. Marry, that am I and my partner.

Dogb. 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 constable. To. Cl. Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

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

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

Both. Yea, fir, we hope. 4

:

To. Cl. Write down, that they hope they serve God and write God first: for God defend, but God fhould go before fuch villains!-Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than falfe knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly: How answer you for yourselves?

Conr. Marry, fir, we say, 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, fir; I fay to you, it is thought you are both falfe knaves.

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

To. Cl. Well, ftand afide. 'Fore God, they are

4 Both. Yea, fir, we hope.

To. Cl. Write down that they hope they serve God: and write God firft; for God defend, but God should go before fuch villains !——— 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 afks a queftion of the prifoners, and goes on without staying for any anfwer to it. THEOBALD.

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both in a tale: Have you writ down, that they are

none.

Sexton. Mafter conftable, you go not the way to examine; you must call the watch that are their accufers.

5 To. Cl. Yea, marry, that's the deftest way: Let the watch come forth: Mafters, I charge you in the prince's name accufe thefe men.

Enter Watchmen.

I Watch. This man faid, fir, that Don John the prince's brother was a villain.

To. Cl. Write down, prince John a villain: Why this is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother, villain. Bora. Mafter constable

To. Cl. Pr'ythee, fellow, peace; I do not like thy look, I promise thee.

Sexton. What heard you him fay else?

2 Watch. Marry, that he had receiv'd a thousand ducats of Don John, for accufing the lady Hero wrongfully.

To. Cl. Flat burglary, as ever was committed,
Dogb. Yea, by the mafs, that it is.

Sexton. What else, fellow?

To. Cl. Yea, marry, that's the eafieft way, let the watch come forth: This, caficft, is a fophiftication of our modern editors, who were at a lofs to make out the corrupted reading of the old copies, The quarto in 1600, and the first and fecond editions in folio all concur in reading; Yea, marry, that's the eftest way, &c. A letter happened to flip out at prefs in the first edition; and 'twas too hard a task for the fubfequent editors to put it in, or guefs at the word under this accidental depravation. There is no doubt but the author wrote, as I have reflor'd the text; Yea, marry, thai's the defteft way, &c. i. e. the readieft, most commodicus way. The word is pure Saxon. Dear! ce, debite, congrue, duely, fitly, Ledarlic, opportune, commode, fitly, conveniently, feafonably, in good time, commodiously. Vid. Spelman's Saxon Gloff. THEOBALD.

1 Watch.

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