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of one Deformed: they fay, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name, the which he hath us’d so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake. Pray you, examine him upon that point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honeft pains.

Dogb. Your Worship speaks like a moit thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. .

Leon. There's for thy pains.
Dogb. God fave the foundation !

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner; and I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an errant knave with your Worship, which, I beseech your Worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your Worship; I wish your Worship well: God restore you to health ; I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be with’d, God prohibit it. Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt.
Leon. Until to-morrow morning, Lords, farewel.
Ant. Farewel, my Lords; we look for you to-morrow.
Pedro. We will not fail.
Claud. To night I'll mourn with Hero.
Leon. Bring you these fellows on, we'll talk with

Margaret,
How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.

[Exeunt severally. Lord Goring, &c. all great Courtiers.--As to the key in the ear, and the lock hanging by it, there may be a joke in the ambiguity of the terms. But whether we think, that Shakespeare meant to ridicule the fashion in the abatracted sense; or whether he sneer'd at the Courtiers, the parents of it, we shall find the description equally satirical. The key in the car might be suppos'd literally: For they wore rings, lockets, and ribbands in a hole made in the ear; and sometimes, rings one within another: but it might be likewise allegorically understood, to fignify, the great readiness the Courtiers had in giving ear to, or going into new follies or fashions. As for borrowing money and never pa;ing, that is an old Common Place against the court and followers of fashions,

Mr. Warburton.

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SCENE changes to Leonato's House.

Enter Benedick and Margaret.

Bene.

Marg. Will

Bene. RAY thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve

well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

Bene. In so high a ftile, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in not comely truth, thou deferveft it.

(27) Marg: To have no man come over me? why, Mall I always keep above stairs ?

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches.

Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Bene. A most manly. wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice ; I give thee the bucklers.

Marg. Give us the swords ; we have bucklers of our

own.

hath legs.

Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for inaids. Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think,

[Exit Margaret. Bene. And therefore will come. (Sings.] The God of live, that fits above, and knows me, and knows me, bow pitiful I deserve.--I mean, in singing; but in loving, Leander, the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam

(27) To have no man come over me? why, small I always keep below fairs?] Thus all the printed copies, but, lure, erroneously: for all the jilt, that can lie in the passage, is defroy'd by it? Any man might come over her, literally speaking, if the always kept below ftairs. By the correction I have ventur'd to make, Margaret, as I presume, must mean, What! shall I always keep above stairs ? 1. e. Shall I for ever continue a Chan.bermaid?

carpeta

Carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the éven road of a blank verse; why, they were never fo truly turn'd over and over, as my poor self in love ; marry, I cannot shew it in rhime; I have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but baby, an innocent's shime; for scorn, horn, a hard rhime; for school, fool, a babling rhi:ne ; very ominous endings; no, I was not born under a rhiming planet, furl cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter Beatrice. Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I call thee!

Beat. Yea, Signior, and depart when you bid me. Bene. O, stay but 'till then.

Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now; and yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath paft between you and Claudio.

Bene. Only foul words, and thereupon I will kiss thee.

Beat. Foul words are but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkitt.

Bene. Thou haft frighted the word out of its right fense, so forcible is thy wit; but I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward; and, I pray thee, now tell me, for which of my bad parts didit thou first fall in love with me!

Beat. For them altogether, which maintain'd lo po litick a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them : but for which of my good parts did you suffer love for me?

Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet ; I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Beat. In spight of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart, if you spight it for my fake, I will spight it for yours ; for I will never love that, which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wie to woo peaceably.

Beat. It appears not in this confession ; there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that liv'd

widow weeps.

in the time of good neighbours ; if a man do not erec in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monuments, than the bells ring, and the

Beat. And how long is that, think you ?

Bene. Question ?--why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in theum; therefore it is most expedient for the wise, if Don worm (his conscience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own vira tues, as I am to myself; fo much for praising myself ; who, I myself will bear witness, is praise-worthy; and now tell me, how doth your Cousin ?

Beat. Very ill.
Bene. And how do you?
Beat. Very ill too.

Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend; there will I leave you too, for here comes one in hafte.

Enter Ursula. Urfx. Madain, you must come to your uncle ; yon. der's old coil at home; it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accus'd; the Prince and Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the author of all, who is filed and gone : will you come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, Signior?

Bene. I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be bury'd in thy heart; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to a CHURCH. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants with tapers Claud. S this the monument of Leonato ?

Atten. It is, iny lord,

Ε Ρ Ι Τ Α Ρ Η.
Done to death by flanderous tongues

Was the Hero, that here lyes :
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,

Gives her fame which never dies,

IS

So

So the life, that dy'd with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,

Praising her when I am dumb. Claud. Now musick sound, and sing your solemn hyma,

SON G.

Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that flew thy virgin knight;
For the which with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, afsift our moan ;
Help us to figh and groan

Heavily, heavily :
Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
"Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily.
Claud. Now unto thy bones good night i
Yearly will I do this Rite.
Pedro. Good-morrow, masters, put your torches out,

The wolves have prey'd ; and, look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare

you

well. Claud. Good-morrow, mafters; each his several way.

Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds, And then to Leonato's we will go.

Claud. And Hymen now with luckier issue speed's, (28) Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! [Exeunt. (28) And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds,

Than this, for whom we render'd up this woc.) Claudio could not know, without being a prophet, that this new-propos’d match should have any luckier event than that design'd with Hero. Certainly, therefore, this should be a wish in Claudio; and, to this end, the poet might have wrote, Sperd's ; i. e. feedus; and fy it becomes a prayer to llymente!

Dr. Ibirlby.

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