For I have only been filent fo long, And given way unto this courfe of fortune, A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face; a thousand innocent fhames Leon. Friar, it cannot be : Thou feeft, that all the grace, that she hath left, A fin of perjury; fhe not denies it: Why feek'st thou then to cover with excuse Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of? none: 5 Friar. What man is be you are accus'd of?] The friar had just before boasted his great skill in fishing out the truth. And indeed, he appears by this queflion to be no fool. He was by, all the while at the accufation and heard no names mentioned. Why then should he ask her what man she was accused of? But in this lay the fubtilty of his examination. For, had Hero been guilty, it was very probable that in that hurry and confufion of fpirits, into which the terrible infult of her lover had thrown her, he would never have obferved that the man's name was not mentioned; and fo, on this question, have betrayed herself by naming the perfon fhe was conscious of an affair with. The friar obferved this, and fo concluded, that, were fhe guilty, fhe would probably fall into the trap he laid for her.I only take notice of this to fhew how admirably well Shakespeare knew how to sustain his characters. WARBURTON. If If I know more of any man alive, Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, Maintain❜d the change of words with any creature, Friar. There is fome ftrange mifprifon in the princes. Bene. Two of them have the very bent of ho nour; And if their wifdoms be mifled in this, The practice of it lives in John the bastard, Leon. I know not: If they speak but truth of her, These hands fhall tear her; if they wrong her ho nour, The proudest of them shall well hear of it. Nor fortune made fuch havock of my means, And let my counfel fway you in this cafe. Let bent of honour,] Bent is ufed by our authour for the utmoft degree of any paffion, or mental quality. In this play before Benedick fays of Beatrice, her affection has its full bent. The expreffion is derived from archery; the bow has its bent, when it is drawn as far as it can be. JOHNSON. Your daughter here the princes left for dead;] In former copies, But Let her awhile be fecretly kept in, Leon. What shall become of this? What will this do? Friar. Marry, this, well carry'd, fhall on her be Change flander to remorfe; that is fome good: Into his study of imagination; And every lovely organ of her life But how comes Hero to start up a princefs here? We have no intimation of her father being a prince; and this is the first and only time fhe is complimented with this dignity. The remotion of a fingle letter, and of the parenthefis, will bring her to her own rank, and the place to its true meaning. Your daughter here the princes left for dead; i. e. Don Pedro, prince of Arragon; and his baftard brother who is likewife called a prince. THEOBALD. 8 9 oftentation ;] Show; appearance. JOHNSON. we rack the value ; -] i. e. We exaggerate the value. The allufion is to rack-rents. STEEVENS. 2 Shall Shall come apparel'd in more precious habit, Into the eye and profpect of his foul, Than when she liv'd indeed.-Then fhall he mourn, Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries. Should with your body. Leon. Being that I flow in grief, The smallest twine may lead me.' Friar. 'Tis well confented; prefently away; cure. Come, lady, die to live: this wedding day, Perhaps, is but prolong'd; have patience and [Exeunt. endure. The fmalleft twine may lead me ] This is one of our authour's obfervations upon life. Men overpowered with diftrefs, eagerly liften to the first offers of relief, close with every scheme, and be lieve every promife. He that has no longer any confidence in himfelf, is glad to repofe his truft in any other that will undertake to guide him. JOHNSON. VOL. II. X Manent Manent Benedick and Beatrice. 2 Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while? 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 deferve 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 fo well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confefs nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am forry for my coufin. Bene. By my fword, Beatrice, thou lov'ft me. 2 Manent Benedick and Beatrice.] The poet, in my opinion, has fhewn a great deal of addrefs in this scene. 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, 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 defign of bringing them together had been defeated; and fhe 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. |