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ACT V.

SCENE, before Leonato's Houfe.

Enter Leonato and Antonio.

ANTONIO.

F you go on thus, you will kill yourself;
And 'tis not wisdom thus to fecond grief
Againft yourself.

Leon. I pray thee, cease thy counfel,
Which falls into mine ears as profi lefs
As water in a fieve; give not me counfel,
Nor let no Comforter delight mine ear,
But fuch a one whofe wrongs do fuit with mine.
Bring me a father, that fo lov'd his child,
Whofe joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him fpeak of patience;

Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for strain :

As thus for thus, and fuch a grief for fuch,
In every lineament, branch, fhape and form;
If fuch a one will smile and ftroke his beard, (22)

(22) If fuch a one will smile, and ftroke his beard,

And

And hallow, wag, cry hem, when be fhould groan,] Mr. Roque is the first authority that I can find for this read ng. But what is the intention, or how are we to expound it?" If a man will ballco, and "whoop, and fidget, and wriggle about, to fhew a pleafure when he "fhould groan," &c. This does not give much decorum to the fentiment. The old Quarto, and the 1ft and 2d Folio editions all read,

And forrow, wagge, cry hem, &c.

We don't, indeed, get much by this reading; tho', I flatter myself, by a flight alteration it has led me to the true one,

And forrow wage; cry, hem! when he should groan; ie. If fuch a one will combat with, frive against forrow, &c. Nor is this word infrequent with our author in thefe fignifications.

So, in his Lear;

To wage; against the enmity o'th' air,
Neceffity's frong pinch.

So,

And Sorrow wage; cry, hem! when he should groan ;
Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk
With candle-wafters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.

But there is no fuch man; for, brother, men
Can counfel, and give comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but tasting it,
Their counfel turns to paffion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage;
Fetter ftrong madness in a filken thread,
Charm ach with air, and agony with words.
No, no; 'tis all mens office to fpeak patience (23)
To thofe, that wring under the load of forrow;
But no man's virtue, nor fufficiency,

To be fo moral, when he shall endure

So, in Orbello;

Neglecting an attempt of cafe and gain,
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
And in the 1ft Henr. IV.

I fear the pow'r of Percy is too weak
Το wage an inftant tryal with the king.

(23) No, no; tis all men's office to speak patience
To thofe, that wring under the load of forrow;
But no man's virtue, nor Sufficiency,

To be fo moral, when he shall endure

The like bimfelf.] Patience under misfortunes eafier advis'd, than maintain'd, is one of the topics of Shakespeare, for which Mr. Gildon told us, he had met with no parallels among the ancients: And this obfervation is particularly directed to the paffage now before us. A man of fo much reading must certainly be betray'd by his memory in this point: For I have long ago obferv'd no less than five paffages, all which feem to be a very reasonable foundation for our author's fentiments on this fubject.

Facile omnes, quum valemus, recta Confilia agrotis damus z
Tu fi bic fis, aliter fentias.

Ελαφρὸν ὅσις σημάτων ἔξω πόδα

Ἔχει, παραινεῖν, νεθετεῖν τε τοὺς κακῶς

Πράσσονας.

*Αλλῳ πινελι βάδιον παραινέσαι Ἔσιν, ποιῆται δ ̓ αὐτὸν ἐχὶ ῥᾴδιον. *Απανες ἐσμὲν εἰς τὸ νεθετεῖν σοφοί, Αυτοὶ δ ̓ ἁμαρτάνουλες & γινώσκομεν. · Ῥᾷον παραινεῖν ἢ παθόντα καρτερεῖνο

Terent.

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The like himself; therefore give me no counfel;
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ. Leon. I pray thee, peace; I will be flesh and blood; For there was never yet philofopher, That could endure the tooth-ach patiently; However they have writ the ftyle of Gods, And made a pifh at chance and sufferance. Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself: Make thofe, that do offend you, fuffer too.

Leon. There thou fpeak'ft reafon; nay, I will do fo.

My foul doth tell me, Hero is bely'd ;

And that fall Claudio know, fo fhall the Prince;
And all of them, that thus dishonour her.

Enter Don Pedro, and Claudio.

Ant. Here comes the Prince and Claudio haftily.
Pedro. Good den, good den.

Claud. Good-day to both of you.

Leon. Hear you, my lords?

Pedro. We have fome hafte, Leonato.

Leon. Some hafte, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord.

Are you fo hafty now? well, all is one.

Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling,

Some of us would lye low.

Claud. Who wrongs him?

Leon. Marry, thou doft wrong me,thou diffembler, thou! Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword,

I fear thee not.

Claud. Marry, befhrew my hand,

If it fhould give your age fuch cause of fear;
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my fword.
Leon. Tufh, tufh, man, never fleer and jeft at me;

I fpeak not like a dotard nor a fool;

As, under privilege of age, to brag

What I have done being young, or what would do,
Were I not old: know, Claudio, to thy head,
Thou haft fo wrong'd my innocent child and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reverence by ;

And,

And, with grey hairs, and bruife of many days,
Do challenge thee to tryal of a man;

I fay, thou haft bely'd mine innocent child,

Thy flander hath gone through and through her heart, And the lies bury'd with her ancestors,

O, in a tomb where never fcandal flept,

Save this of hers, fram'd by thy villany 1

Cland. My villany?

Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine, I fay.
Pedro. You fay not right, old man.
Leon. My lord, my lord,

I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;
Defpight his nice fence and his active practice,
His May of youth, and bloom of luftyhood.

Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you.
(24) Leon. Canft thou fo daffe me? thou haft kill'd my
child;

If thou kill'ft me, boy, thou fhalt kill a man.

Ant. He fhall kill two of us, and men indeed;
But that's no matter, let him kill one first;
Win me and wear me, let him answer me;
Come, follow me, boy; come, boy, follow me;
Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence;
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother,

Ant. Content yourfelf; God knows, I lov'd my niece; And fhe is dead, flander'd to death by villains, That dare as well answer a man, indeed, As I dare take a ferpent by the tongue.

(24) Canft thou fo daffe me?-] This is a country word, Mr. Pope tells us, fignifying, daunt. It may be fo; but that is not the expofition here: To daffe, and doffe are fynonomous terms, that mean, to put off: which is the very fenfe requir'd here, and what Leonato would reply, upon Claudio's faying, he would have nothing to do with him. So Hetftur, in the 1 Henr. IV.

Where is his fon,

The nimble-footed, mad-cap, Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daft the world aside.
And bid it, pass?.

i. e. put it aside; neglected all confiderations of the world. Doffe is too perpetual in our author, to need any quotations in proof of it.

Boys,

Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milkfops!
Leon. Brother Anthony,-

Ant. Hold you content; what, man? I know them, yea,
And what they weigh, even to the utmoft fcruple:
Scambling, out-facing, fafhioa-mongring boys,
That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander,
Go antickly, and show an outward hideoufnefs,
And fpeak off half a dozen dangerous words, (25)
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durit;
And this is all.

Leon. But, brother Anthony,

Ant. Come, 'tis no matter;

Do not you meddle, let me deal in this.

Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience. My heart is forry for your daughter's death;

But, on my Honour, fhe was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.
Leon. My lord, my lord-

Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No! come, brother, away, I will be heard. Ant. And fhall, or fome of us will fmart for it.'

Enter Benedick.

[Exe. ambo.

Pedro. See, fee, here comes the man we went to seek. Claud. Now, Signior, what news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

Pedro. Welcome, Signior; you are almost come to part almost a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two nofes fnapt off with two old men without teeth.

Pedro. Leonato and his brother; what think'st thou ? had we fought, I doubt, we should have been too young for them.

(25) And Speak of half a dozen dangerous words,] Thefe editors are perfons of unmatchable indolence, that can't afford to add a fingle letter to retrieve common fenfe. To speak off, as I have reform'd the text, is to throw out boldly, with an oftentation of bravery, &c. So in Twelfth-night;

A terrible oath, with a fwaggering accent fharply twang'd off:

Bene.

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