Conr. And thought they, Margaret was Hero? Bora. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the devil my mafter knew fhe was Margaret ; and partly by his oaths, which first poffefs'd them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any flander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; fwore, he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and there before the whole congregation fhame her with what he faw o'er night, and fend her home again without a hufband. 1 Watch. We charge you in the prince's name, ftand. 2 Watch. Call up the right master constable: We have here recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the commonwealth. 1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them; I know him, he wears a lock. Conr. Masters, masters,' 2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you. Conr. Mafters, Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us obey you to go with us. * Conr. Masters, mafters, &c.] In former copies : you. Conr. Mafters, mafters, 2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant Conr. Mafters, never speak, we charge you, let us obey you to go with us. The regulation which I have made in this laft fpeech, though against the authority of all the printed copies, I flatter myself, carries its proof with it. Conrade and Borachio are not defigned to talk abfurd nonfenfe. It is evident therefore, that Conrade is attempting his own juftification; but is interrupted in it by the impertinence of the men in office. THEOBALD. Bora. Bora. We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of thefe mens bills. Conr. A commodity in queftion, I warrant you, Come, we'll obey you. [Exeunt. Hero. Good Urfula, wake my coufin Beatrice, and defire her to rise. Urf. I will, lady. Hero. And bid her come hither. Urf. Well. [Exit Urfula. Marg. Troth, I think, your other rabato were better. Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. Marg. By my troth, it's not fo good; and I warrant, your cousin will fay so. Hero. My coufin's a fool, and thou art another; I'll wear none but this. Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare fashion, i'faith. I faw the dutchefs of Milan's gown, that they praise fo. 2 rabato] A neckband; a ruff. Rabat, French. HANMER. This article of drefs is frequently mentioned by our ancient comic writers. So in Every Woman in her Humour, 1609."the rabato, the loofe-bodied gown, &c." Again, in the comedy of Law Tricks, &c. 1603. "Broke broad jefts upon her narrow heel, "Pok'd her rabatos, and furvay'd her steel.” "The tyre, Again, in Decker's Satiromatix, 1602." He would perfuade "me that love was a rabato, and his reafon was, that a rabato "was worn out with pinning, &c.” The last but one of thefe paffages will likewife ferve for an additional explanation of the poking-fiicks of feel, mentioned in the Winter's Tale, STEEVENS. Hero. Hero. O, that exceeds, they fay. Marg. By my troth, it's but a night-gown in refpect of yours: Cloth of gold and cuts, and lac'd with filver, fet with pearls, down-fleeves, fide-sleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a blueish tinsel : but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on't. Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy! Marg. 'Twill be heavier foon, by the weight of a man. Hero. Fie upon thee! art not afham'd? Marg. Of what, madam? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think, you would have me fay, (faving your reverence) a husband. An bad thinking do not wreft true fpeaking, I'll offend no body: Is there any harm. in-the beavier for a bufband? None, I think, an it be the right hufband, and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light and not heavy: Afk my lady Beatrice elfe, here fhe comes. Enter Beatrice. Hero. Good morrow, coz. Beat. Good morrow, fweet Hero. Hero. Why, how now! do you fpeak in the ack tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. Marg. Clap us into Light o' love; that goes without 3 Light o' love;] A tune fo called, which has been already mentioned by our authour. JOHNSON. This tune is mentioned in Beaumont and Fletcher's Two Noble Kinfmen. The gaoler's daughter, fpeaking of a horse, fays, "He gallops to the tune of Light o' love." VOL. II. U It without a burden; do you fing it, and I'll dance it. Beat. Yes, Light o' love with your heels! then if your husband have ftables enough, you'll look he fhall lack no + barns. 4 Marg. O illegitimate conftruction! I fcorn that with my heels. Beat. 'Tis almoft five o'clock, coufin; 'tis time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding illhey ho! Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband? 5 Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H. Marg. Well, if you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more failing by the star. It is mentioned again in the Two Gentlemen of Verona ; "Beft fing it to the tune of Light o' love." And in the Noble Gentleman, of Beaumont and Fletcher. Beat. STEEVENS. 4 no barns.] A quibble between barns, repofitories of corn, and bairns, the old word for children. JOHNSON. 5 For the letter that begins them all, H.] This is a poor jest, somewhat obfcured, and not worth the trouble of elucidation. Margaret afks Beatrice for what the cries, bey ho; Beatrice an fwers, for an H, that is, for an ache or pain. JOHNSON. Heywood, among his Epigrams, published in 1562, has one on the letter H. "H is worst among letters in the cross-row; "Wherever thou find ache, thou shalt not like him." STEEVENS. turn'd Turk,}i. e. taken captive by love, and turned a rene. gado to his religion. WARBURTON. This interpretation is fomewhat far-fetched, yet, perhaps, it is right. JOHNSON. Hamlet ufes the fame expreffion, and talks of his fortune's turning Turk. To turn Turk was a common phrafe for a change of former Beat. What means the fool, trow? Marg. Nothing I; but God fend every one their heart's defire! Hero. Thefe gloves the count fent me, they are an excellent perfume. Beat. I am ftuff'd, coufin, I cannot finell. Marg. A maid, and stuff'd! there's goodly catching of cold. Beat. O, God help me! God help me! how long have you profefs'd 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'st her with a thiftle. 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, by'rlady, 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 would think my heart out o' 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 swore, he would never marry; and yet now, in despight of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging: and how 8 former condition or opinion. So in The Honeft Whore, by Decker, 1616. "If you turn Turk again, &c." STEEVENS. 7 fome moralj That is, fome fecret meaning, like the moral of a fable. JOHNSON. ⚫ be eats his meat without grudging :] I do not fee how this is a U 2 proof |