Ant.
If you go on thus, you will kill yourself;
And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief
Against yourself.

Leon.
I pray thee, cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve: give not me counsel;
Nor let no comforter ^note delight mine ear
But such a one whose wrongs do ^note suit with mine.
Bring me a father that so loved his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak ^note of patience;
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for strain,
As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape, and form:
If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard,
Bid sorrow wag, cry ‘hem!’ ^note when he should groan,

Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
With candle-wasters ^note; bring him yet ^note to me,
And I of him will gather patience.
But there is no such man: for, brother, men
Can counsel and speak ^note comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ache with air, and agony with words:
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
But no man's virtue nor sufficiency,
To be so moral when he shall endure
The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
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 philosopher
That could endure the toothache patiently,
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a push ^note at chance and sufferance.

Ant.
Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself;
Make those that do offend you suffer too.

Leon.
There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will do so.
My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;
And that shall Claudio know; so shall the prince,
And all of them that thus dishonour her. ^note

Ant.
Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily. Enter Don Pedro and Claudio.

D. Pedro.
Good den, good den.

Claud.
Good day to both of you.

Leon.
Hear you, my lords,—

D. Pedro.
We have some haste, Leonato.

Leon.
Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord:
Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.

D. Pedro.
Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.

Ant.
If he could right himself with quarrelling,
Some of us would lie low.

Claud.
Who wrongs him ^note?

Leon.
Marry, thou ^note dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou:—
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword;
I fear thee not.

Claud.
Marry, beshrew my hand,
If it should give your age such cause of fear:
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.

Leon.
Tush, tush, man; never fleer and jest at me:
I speak 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 hast so wrong'd mine ^note innocent child and me,
That I am forced to lay my reverence by,
And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days,
Do challenge thee to trial of a man.
I say thou hast belied mine ^note innocent child;
Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
And she lies buried with her ancestors;
O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,
Save this of hers, framed by thy villany!

Claud.
My villany?

Leon.
Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.

D. Pedro.
You say not right, old man.

Leon.
My lord, my lord,
I'll prove it on his body, if he dare,

Despite his nice fence and his active practice,
His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.

Claud.
Away! I will not have to do with you.

Leon.
Canst thou so daff ^note me? Thou hast kill'd my child:
If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.

Ant.
He shall 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, sir boy, come, follow me ^note:
Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence;
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon.
Brother,—

Ant.
Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece;
And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains,
That dare as well answer a man indeed
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue:
Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks ^note, milksops!

Leon.
Brother Antony,—

Ant.
Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,—
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging ^note boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander,
Go antiquely, and ^note show outward ^note hideousness,
And speak off ^note half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst;
And this is all.

Leon.
But, brother Antony,—

Ant.
Come, 'tis no matter:
Do not you meddle; let me deal in this.

D. Pedro.
Gentlemen both, we will not wake ^note your patience ^note.
My heart is sorry for your daughter's death:

But, on my honour, she was charged with nothing
But what ^note was true, and very full of proof.

Leon.
My lord, my lord,— ^note

D. Pedro.
I will not hear you.

Leon.
No? ^note Come ^note, brother; away! I will be heard. ^note

Ant.
And shall, or some of us will smart for it. ^note [Exeunt ^note Leonato and Antonio.

D. Pedro.
See, see; here comes the man we ^note went to seek. Enter Benedick.

Claud.

Now, signior, what news?

Bene.

Good day, my lord.

D. Pedro.

Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part almost ^note a fray.

Claud.

We had like ^note to have had our two noses snapped off with two old men without teeth.

D. Pedro.

Leonato and his brother. What thinkest thou? Had we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them.

Bene.

In a ^note false quarrel there is no true valour. I came to seek you both.

Claud.

We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high-proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene.

It is in my scabbard: shall I draw it?

D. Pedro.

Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?

Claud.

Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

D. Pedro.

As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou sick, or angry?

Claud.

What, courage, man! What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bene.

Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an you charge it against me. I pray you choose another subject.

Claud.

Nay, then, give him another staff: this last was broke cross.

D. Pedro.

By this light, he changes more and more: I think he be angry indeed.

Claud.

If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.

Bene.

Shall I speak a word in your ear?

Claud.

God bless me from a challenge!

Bene. [Aside to Claudio ^note]

You are a villain; I jest not: I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud.

Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

D. Pedro.

What, a feast, a feast? ^note

Claud.

I'faith ^note, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's-head ^note and a capon ^note; the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?

Bene.

Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.

D. Pedro.

I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit: ‘True ^note,’ said ^note she, ‘a fine little one.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘a great wit:’ ‘Right ^note,’ says she ^note, ‘a great gross one.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘a good wit:’ ‘Just,’ said she ^note, ‘it hurts nobody.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘the gentleman is wise:’ ‘Certain,’ said she, ‘a wise gentleman.’ ^note ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘he hath the tongues:’ ‘That I believe,’ said she, ‘for he swore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue; there's ^note two tongues.’ Thus did she, an hour

together, trans-shape thy particular virtues: yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.

Claud.

For the which she wept heartily, and said she cared not.

D. Pedro.

Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an ^note if she did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly: the old man's daughter told us all.

Claud.

All, all; and, moreover, God ^note saw him when he was hid in the garden.

D. Pedro.

But when shall we set the savage ^note bull's horns on ^note the sensible Benedick's head?

Claud.

Yea, and text underneath, ‘Here dwells Benedick the married man’?

Bene.

Fare you well, boy: you know my mind. I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you: I must discontinue your company: your brother the bastard is fled from Messina: you have among you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For ^note my Lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet: and till then peace be with him.

D. Pedro.

He is in earnest.

Claud.

In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for the love of Beatrice.

D. Pedro.

And hath challenged thee. ^note

Claud.

Most sincerely.

D. Pedro.

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit!

Claud.

He is then a giant to an ape: but then is an ape a doctor to such a man.

D. Pedro.

But, soft you, let me be ^note: pluck ^note up, my heart, and be sad. Did he not say, my brother was fled?

^noteEnter ^note Dogberry, Verges, and the Watch, with Conrade and Borachio.

Dog.

Come, you, sir: if justice cannot tame you, she shall ne'er weigh more ^note reasons in her balance: nay, an ^note you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to.

D. Pedro.

How now? two of my brother's men bound! Borachio one!

Claud.

Hearken after their offence, my lord.

D. Pedro.

Officers, what offence have these men done?

Dog.

Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.

D. Pedro.

First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay ^note to their charge.

Claud.

Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited.

D. Pedro.

Who ^note have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned constable is too cunning to be understood: what's your offence?

Bora.

Sweet prince, let me go no farther to mine answer: do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who, in the night, overheard ^note me confessing to this man, how Don John your brother incensed me to slander the Lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments: how you disgraced her, when you should marry her: my villany they have upon record; which I had rather seal with my death

than repeat over to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain.

D. Pedro.
Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?

Claud.
I have drunk poison whiles ^note he utter'd it.

D. Pedro.
But did my brother set thee on to this?

Bora.
Yea, and ^note paid me richly ^note for the practice of it ^note.

D. Pedro.
He is composed and framed ^note of treachery:
And fled he is upon this villany.

Claud.
Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear
In the rare semblance that I loved it first.

Dog.

Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time our sexton hath reformed ^note Signior Leonato of the matter: and, masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.

Verg.

Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the sexton too.