Ursula.
Hero.
Good Margaret run thee to the Parlour,
There shalt thou find my Cousin Beatrice,
Proposing with the Prince and Claudio;
Whisper her Ear, and tell her I and Ursula
Walk in the Orchard, and our whole Discourse
Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us,
And bid her steal into the pleached Bower,
Where Honey-Suckles ripen'd by the Sun
Forbid the Sun to enter; like Favourites
Made proud by Princes, that advance their Pride
Against that Power that bred it: There will she hid her,
To listen to our Purpose; this is thy Office,
Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.
Marg.
I'll make her come I warrant presently.
[Exit.
Hero.
Now Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this Alley up and down,
Our Talk must only be of Benedick;
When I do name him, let it be thy Part
To praise him more than ever Man did merit.
My Talk to thee must be how Benedick
Is sick in Love with Beatrice; of this Matter
Is little Cupid's crafty Arrow made,
That only wounds by hear-say: Now begin,
Enter Beatrice.
For look where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs
Close by the Ground to hear our Conference.
Ursu.
The pleasant'st angling is to see the Fish
Cut with her golden Oars the silver Stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous Bait;
So angle we for Beatrice, who even now,
Is couched in the Woodbine Overture;
Fear you not my Part of the Dialogue.
Hero.
Then go we near her, that her Ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet Bait that we lay for it.
No truly Ursula, she is too disdainful,
I know her Spirits are as coy and wild
-- 350 --
As Haggerds of the Rock.
Ursu.
But are you sure
That Benedick loves Beatrice so intirely?
Hero.
So says the Prince, and my new trothed Lord.
Ursu.
And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?
Hero.
They did intreat me to acquaint her of it,
But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,
To wish him wrastle with Affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.
Ursu.
Why did you so? Doth not the Gentleman
Deserve as full as fortunate a Bed,
As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
Hero.
O God of Love! I know he doth deserve
As much as may be yielded to a Man:
But Nature never fram'd a Woman's Heart
Of prouder Stuff than that of Beatrice.
Disdain and Scorn ride sparkling in her Eye,
Mis-prizing what they look on, and her Wit
Values it self so highly, that to her
All Matter else seems weak; she cannot love,
Nor take no Shape nor Project of Affection,
She is so self-indeared.
Ursu.
Sure I think so;
And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his Love, lest she make Sport at it.
Hero.
Why you speak Truth, I never yet saw Man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward; if fair-fac'd,
She would swear the Gentleman should be her Sister;
If black, why Nature drawing of an Antick,
Made a foul Blot; if tall, a Launce ill-headed;
If low, an Agat very vildly cut;
If speaking, why a Vane blown with all Winds;
If silent, why a Block moved with none.
So turns she every Man the wrong side out,
And never gives to Truth and Virtue that
Which Simpleness and Merit purchaseth.
Ursu.
Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Hero.
No, for to be so odd, and from all Fashions,
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable.
But who dare tell her so? if I should speak,
-- 351 --
She would mock me into an Air, O she would laugh me
Out of my self, press me to Death with Wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like covered Fire,
Consume away in Sighs, waste inwardly;
It were a bitter Death to die with Mocks,
Which is as bad as die with tickling.
Ursu.
Yet tell her of it, hear what she will say.
Hero.
No, rather I will go to Benedick,
And counsel him to fight against his Passion,
And truly I'll devise some honest Slanders,
To stain my Cousin with; one doth not know,
How much an ill Word may impoison liking.
Ursu.
O do not do your Cousin such a Wrong.
She cannot be so much without true Judgment,
Having so sweet and excellent a Wit,
As she is priz'd to have, as to refuse
So rare a Gentleman as Signior Benedick.
Hero.
He is the only Man of Italy,
Always excepted my dear Claudio.
Ursu.
I pray you be not angry with me, Madam,
Speaking my Fancy; Signior Benedick,
For Shape, for Bearing, Argument and Valour,
Goes formost in Report through Italy.
Hero.
Indeed he hath an excellent good Name.
Ursu.
His Excellence did earn it e'er he had it.
When are you marry'd, Madam?
Hero.
Why every Day, to Morrow; come go in,
I'll shew thee some Attires, and have thy Counsel,
Which is the best to furnish me to Morrow.
Ursu.
She's ta'en, I warrant you;
We have caught her, Madam.
Hero.
If it prove so, then loving goes by haps,
Some Cupids kill with Arrows, some with Traps.
[Exeunt.
Beat.
What Fire is in my Ears? can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for Pride and Scorn so much?
Contempt farewel, and Maiden Pride adieu;
No Glory lives behind the Back of such.
And Benedick, love on, I will requite thee,
Taming my wild Heart to thy loving Hand;
If thou dost love, my Kindness shall incite thee
To bind our Loves up in a holy Band.
-- 352 --
For others say thou dost deserve, and I
Believe it better than reportingly.
[Exit.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick and Leonato.
Pedro.
I do but stay 'till your Marriage be consummate,
and then I go toward Arragon.
Claud.
I'll bring you thither my Lord, if you'll vouchsafe
me.
Pedro.
Nay, that would be as great a Soil in the new
Gloss of your Marriage, as to shew a Child his new Coat
and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold with
Benedick for his Company, for from the Crown of his
Head to the Soul of his Foot he is all Mirth; he hath twice
or thrice cut Cupid's Bow-String and the little Hangman
dare not shoot at him; he hath a Heart as sound as a Bell,
and the Tongue is the Clapper; for what his Heart thinks,
his Tongue speaks.
Bene.
Gallants, I am not as I have been.
Leon.
So say I; methinks you are sadder.
Claud.
I hope he be in Love.
Pedro.
Hang him Truant, there's no true Drop of Blood
in him, to be truly touch'd with Love; if he be sad, he
wants Mony.
Bene.
I have the Tooth-ach.
Pedro.
Draw it.
Bene.
Hang it.
Claud.
You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
Pedro.
What? sigh for the Tooth-ach.
Leon.
Which is but a Humour or a Worm.
Bene.
Well, every one cannot master a Grief, but he
that has it.
Claud.
Yet say I, he is in Love.
Pedro.
There is no Appearance of Fancy in him, unless
it be a Fancy that he hath to strange Disguises, as to be a
Dutch Man to Day, a French Man to Morrow; unless he
have a Fancy to this Foolery, as it appears he hath, he
is no Fool for Fancy, as you would have it to appear
he is.
Claud.
If he be not in Love with some Woman, there is
no believing old Signs; he brushes his Hat a Mornings:
What should that bode?
Pedro.
Hath any Man seen him at the Barbers?
-- 353 --
Claud.
No, but the Barber's Man hath been seen with
him, and the old ornament of his Cheek hath already stuft
Tennis Balls.
Leon.
Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the loss
of a Beard.
Pedro.
Nay he rubs himself with Civet, can you smell
him out by that?
Claud.
That's as much as to say, the sweet Youth's in
Love.
Pedro.
The greatest Note of it is his Melancholy.
Claud.
And when was he wont to wash his Face?
Pedro.
Yea, or to paint himself? for the which I hear
what they say of him.
Claud.
Nay, but his jesting Spirit, which is now crept
into a Lute-string, and now govern'd by Stops—
Pedro.
Indeed that tells a heavy Tale for him; conclude
he is in love.
Claud.
Nay, but I know who loves him.
Pedro.
That would I know too, I warrant one that knows
him not.
Claud.
Yes, and his ill Conditions, and in despight of
all dies for him.
Pedro.
She shall be bury'd with her Face upwards.
Bene.
Yet is this no Charm for the Tooth-ake. Old Signior
walk aside with me, I have study'd eight or nine wise
words to speak to you, which these Hobby-horses must not
hear.
Pedro.
For my Life to break with him about Beatrice.
Claud.
'Tis even so, Hero and Margaret have by this
play'd their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Bears
will not bite one another when they meet.
Enter Don John.
John.
My Lord and Brother, God save you.
Pedro.
Good Den, Brother.
John.
If your leisure serv'd, I would speak with you.
Pedro.
In private?
John.
If it please you; yet Count Claudio may hear,
for what I would speak of concerns him.
Pedro.
What's the matter?
John.
Means your Lordship to be marry'd to Morrow?
[To Claudio.
-- 354 --
Pedro.
You know he does.
John.
I know not that, when he knows what I know.
Claud.
If there be any Impediment, I pray you discover
it.
John.
You may think I love you not, let that appear
hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifest;
for my Brother, I think, he holds you well, and in
dearness of Heart hath holp to effect your ensuing Marriage;
surely Sute ill spent, and Labour ill bestowed.
Pedro.
Why, what's the Matter?
John.
I came hither to tell you, and Circumstances
shortned (for she hath been too long a talking of) the Lady
is disloyal.
Claud.
Who? Hero?
John.
Even she, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every Man's
Hero.
Claud.
Disloyal?
John.
The Word is too good to paint out her wickedness;
I could say she were worse; think you of a worse
Title, and I will fit her to it: Wonder not 'till further Warrant;
go but with me to Night, you shall see her Chamber
Window enter'd, even the Night before her Wedding-Day;
if you love her, then to Morrow wed her; but it
would better fit your Honour to change your Mind.
Claud.
May this be so?
Pedro.
I will not think it.
John.
If you dare not trust that you see, confess not
that you know; if you will follow me, I will shew you
enough; and when you have seen more, and heard more,
proceed accordingly.
Claud.
If I see any thing to Night why I should not marry
her to Morrow, in the Congregation where I should wed,
there will I shame her.
Pedro.
And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will
join with thee to disgrace her.
John.
I will disparage her no farther, 'till you are my
Witnesses; bear it coldly but 'till Night, and let the Issue
shew it self.
Pedro.
O Day untowardly turned!
Claud.
O Mischief strangely thwarting!
John.
O Plague right well prevented!
So will you say when you have seen the Sequel,
[Exeunt.
-- 355 --
Enter Dogbery and Verges, with the Watch.
Dogb.
Are you good Men and true?
Verg.
Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer Salvation,
Body and Soul.
Dogb.
Nay, that were Punishment too good for them, if
they should have any Allegiance in them, being chosen for
the Prince's Watch.
Verg.
Well, give them their charge, Neighbour Dogbery.
Dogb.
First, who think you the most disartless Man to be
Constable?
Watch 1.
Hugh Otecake, Sir, or George Seacole; for they
can write and read.
Dogb.
Come hither Neighbour Seacole, God hath blest
you with a good Name; to be a well-favour'd Man, is the
Gift of Fortune, but to write and read comes by Nature.
Watch 2.
Both which, Master Constable—
Dogb.
You have: I knew it would be your Answer; well,
for your Favour, Sir, why give God thanks, and make no boast
of it; and for your Writing and Reading, let that appear
when there is no need of such Vanity: You are thought
here to be the most senseless and fit Man for the Constable
of the Watch, therefore bear you the Lanthorn; this is
your Charge: You shall comprehend all vagrom Men, you
are to bid any Man stand in the Prince's Name.
Watch 2.
How if he will not stand?
Dogb.
Why then take no note of him, but let him go,
and presently call the rest of the Watch together, and thank
God you are rid of a Knave.
Verg.
If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none
of the Prince's Subjects.
Dogb.
True, and they are to meddle with none but the
Prince's Subjects: You shall also make no Noise in the Streets;
For, for the Watch to babble and talk, is most tollerable,
and not to be endur'd.
Watch. 2.
We will rather sleep than talk; we know what belongs
to a Watch.
Dogb.
Why you speak like an ancient and most quiet Watchman,
for I cannot see how sleeping should offend; only
have a care that your Bills be not stolen: Well, you are to
call at all the Alehouses, and bid them that are drunk get
them to Bed.
-- 356 --
Watch. 2.
How if they will not?
Dogb.
Why then let them alone 'till they are sober; if
they make you not then the better Answer, you may say
they are not the Men you took them for.
Watch. 2.
Well, Sir.
Dogb.
If you meet a Thief, you may suspect him, by vertue
of your Office, to be no true Man; and for such kind
of Men, the less you meddle or make with them, why the
more is for your Honesty.
Watch. 2.
If we know him to be a Thief, shall we not lay
Hands on him?
Dogb.
Truly by your Office you may; but I think they
that touch Pitch will be defil'd: The most peaceable way
for you, if you do take a Thief, is, to let him shew himself
what he is, and steal out of his Company.
Verg.
You have been always call'd a merciful Man, Partner.
Dogb.
Truly I would not hang a Dog for my Will, much
more a Man who hath any Honesty in him.
Verg.
If you hear a Child cry in the Night, you must
call to the Nurse, and bid her still it.
Watch. 2.
How if the Nurse be asleep, and will not hear us?
Dogb.
Why then depart in Peace, and let the Child wake
her with crying: For the Ewe that will not hear her
Lamb when it Baes, will never answer a Calf when it
Bleats.
Verg.
'Tis very true.
Dogb.
This is the end of the Charge: You Constable are
to present the Prince's own Person, if you meet the Prince in
the Night you may stay him.
Verg.
Nay, Birlady, that I think I cannot.
Dogb.
Five Shillings to one on't with any Man that knows
the Statutes, he may stay him, marry not without the
Prince be willing: For indeed the Watch ought to offend
no Man; and it is an Offence to stay a Man against his
Will.
Verg.
Birlady, I think it be so.
Dogb.
Ha, ha, ha, well Masters good Night, and there be
any Matter of weight chances, call up me, keep your Fellow's
Counsel, and your own, and good Night; come
Neighbour.
-- 357 --
Watch 2.
Well Masters, we hear our Charge, let us go
sit here upon the Church Bench 'till two, and then all to
Bed.
Dogb.
One Word more, honest Neighbours. I pray you
watch about Signior Leonato's Door, for the Wedding being
there to Morrow, there is a great coil to Night; adieu;
be vigilant I beseech you.
[Exeunt.
Enter Borachio and Conrade.
Bora.
What, Conrade.
Watch.
Peace, stir not.
[Aside.
Bora.
Conrade I say.
Conr.
Here Man, I am at thy Elbow.
Bora.
Mass and my Elbow itch'd I thought there would
a Scab follow.
Conr.
I will owe thee an Answer for that, and now forward
thy Tale.
Bora.
Stand thee close then under this Pent-House, for it
drizles Rain, and I will, like a true Drunkard, utter all to
thee.
Watch.
Some Treason Masters, yet stand close.
Bora.
Therefore know, I have earned of Don John a thousand
Ducats.
Conr.
Is it possible that any Villany should be so dear?
Bora.
Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any Villany
should be so rich? For when rich Villains have need
of poor ones, poor ones may make what Price they will.
Conr.
I wonder at it.
Bora.
That shews thou art unconfirm'd, thou knowest
that the Fashion of a Doublet, or a Hat, or a Cloak, is nothing
to a Man.
Conr.
Yes, it is Apparel.
Bora.
I mean the Fashion.
Conr.
Yes the Fashion is the Fashion.
Bora.
Tush, I may as well say the Fool's the Fool, but
seest thou not what a deformed Thief this Fashion is?
Watch.
I know that Deformed, a has been a vile Thief
this seven Years; a goes up and down like a Gentleman: I
remember his Name.
Bora.
Did'st thou not hear some Body?
Conr.
No, 'twas the Vane on the House.
-- 358 --
Bora.
Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed Thief this
Fashion is, how giddy he turns about all the Hot-bloods,
between fourteen and five and thirty, sometimes fashioning
them like Pharo's Soldiers in the rechy Painting, sometimes
like godBell's Priests in the old Church-window, sometimes
like the shaven Hercules in the smirch'd worm-eaten Tapestry,
where his Cod-piece seems as massie as his Club.
Conr.
All this I see, and see that the Fashion wears out
more Apparel than the Man; but art not thou thy self giddy
with the Fashion, that thou hast shifted out of thy Tale
into telling me of the Fashion?
Bora.
Not so neither, but know that I have to Night
wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's Gentlewoman, by the
Name of Hero; she leans me out at her Mistress's Chamber
Window, bids me a thousand times good night—I tell this
Tale vildly—I should first tell thee how the Prince, Claudio,
and my Master, planted and plac'd, and possessed by
my Master Don John, saw afar off in the Orchard this amiable
Encounter.
Conr.
And thought thy Margaret was Hero?
Bora.
Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, but the
Devil my Master knew she was Margaret; and partly by
his Oaths which first possest them, partly by the dark Night
which did deceive them, but chiefly by my Villany, which
did confirm any Slander that Don John had made, away
went Claudio enraged, swore he would meet her as he was
appointed next Morning at the Temple, and there, before
the whole Congregation shame her with what he saw o'er
Night, and send her home again without a Husband.
Watch 1.
We charge you in the Prince's Name stand.
Watch 2.
Call up the right Master Constable, we have
here recovered the most dangerous piece of Lechery that
ever was known in a Common-wealth.
Watch 1.
And one Deformed is one of them, I know him,
he wears a Lock.
Conr.
Masters, Masters.
Watch 2.
You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant
you.
Conr.
Masters, never speak, we charge you, let us obey
you to go with us.
-- 359 --
Bora.
We are like to prove a goodly Commodity, being
taken up of these Mens Bills.
Conr.
A Commodity in question I warrant you, come
we'll obey you.
[Exeunt.
Enter Hero, Margaret and Ursula.
Hero.
Good Ursula wake my Cousin Beatrice, and desire
her to rise.
Ursu.
I will, Lady.
Hero.
And bid her come hither.
Ursu.
Well.
Marg.
Troth, I think your other Rebato were better.
Hero.
No pray thee good Meg, I'll wear this.
Marg.
By my Troth's not so good, and I warrant your
Cousin will say so.
Hero.
My Cousin'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 saw the Dutchess of Milan's Gown,
that they praise so.
Hero.
O that exceeds, they say.
Marg.
By my Troth's but a Night-Gown in respect of
yours; Cloth a Gold and Cuts, and lac'd with Silver, set
with Pearls down-sleeves, side-sleeves and Skirts, round, underborn
with a blueish Tinsel; but for a fine, queint, 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 soon, by the weight of a Man.
Hero.
Fie upon thee, art not asham'd?
Marg.
Of what, Lady? of speaking honourably? Is not
Marriage honourable in a Beggar? Is not your Lord honourable
without Marriage? I think you would have me
say, saving your Reverence a Husband: And bad thinking
do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend no Body, is there
any harm in the heavier for a Husband? None I think, and
it be the right Husband, and the right Wife, otherwise 'tis
light and not heavy; ask my Lady Beatrice else, here she
comes.
-- 360 --
Enter Beatrice.
Hero.
Good Morrow, Coz.
Beat.
Good Morrow, sweet Hero.
Hero.
Why how now? do you speak in the sick Tune?
Beat.
I am out of all other Tune methinks.
Marg.
Clap's into Light a Love (that goes without a
Burden,) do you sing it, and I'll dance it.
Beat.
Yes light a love with your Heels, then if your
Husband have Stables enough, you'll look he shall lack no
Barns.
Marg.
O illegitimate Construction! I scorn that with
my Heels.
Beat.
'Tis almost five a Clock, Cousin; 'tis time you
were ready: By my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho!
Marg.
For a Hawk, a Horse, or a Husband?
Beat.
For the Letter that begins them all, H.
Marg.
Well, and you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more
sailing by the Star.
Beat.
What means the Fool, trow?
Marg.
Nothing I, but God send every one their Heart's
Desire.
Hero.
These Gloves the Count sent me, they are an excellent
Perfume.
Beat.
I am stuft, Cousin, I cannot smell.
Marg.
A Maid and stuft! there's a goodly catching of
Cold.
Beat.
O God help me, God help me, how long have
you profest Apprehension?
Marg.
Ever since you left it; doth not my Wit become
me rarely.
Beat.
It is not seen enough, you should wear in your
Cap. By my troth I am sick.
Marg.
Get you some of this distill'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 Thistle.
Beat.
Benedictus? why Benedictus? You have some Moral
in this Benedictus.
Marg.
Moral? no by my troth, I have no moral meaning,
I meant plain Holy-Thistle; you may think perchance
that I think you are in Love, nay birlady I am not such a
Fool to think what I list, nor I list not to think what I can,
-- 361 --
nor indeed I cannot think, if I would think my Heart out
of thinking, that you are in Love, or that you will be in
Love, or that you can be in Love: Yet Benedick was such
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 you may be converted
I know not, but methinks you look with your Eyes as
other Women do.
Beat.
What pace is this thy Tongue keeps?
Marg.
Not a false Gallop.
Enter Ursula.
Ursu.
Madam, withdraw; the Prince, the Count, Signior
Benedick, Don John, and all the Gallants of the Town
are come to fetch you to Church.
Hero.
Help to dress me, good Coz, good Meg, good
Ursula.
[Exeunt.
Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Leon.
What would you with me, honest Neighbour?
Dogb.
Marry Sir I would have some Confidence with
you, that decerns you nearly.
Leon.
Brief I pray you, for you see 'tis a busie time
with me.
Dogb.
Marry this it is, Sir.
Verg.
Yes in truth it is, Sir.
Leon.
What is it, my good Friends?
Dogb.
Goodman Verges, Sir, speaks a little of the matter,
an old Man, Sir, and his Wits are not so blunt, as, God
help, I would desire they were, but in faith honest as the
Skin between his Brows.
Verg.
Yes I thank God, I am as honest as any man living
that is an old man, and no honester than I.
Dogb.
Comparisons are odorous, palabras, Neighbour
Verges.
Leon.
Neighbours, you are tedious.
Dogb.
It pleases your Worship to say so, but we are the
poor Duke's Officers; but truly for mine own part, if I
were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to bestow
it all of your Worship.
Leon.
All thy Tediousness on me! ah—
-- 362 --
Dogb.
Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis,
for I hear as good Exclamation on your Worship as of any
Man in the City, and tho' I be but a poor Man, I am glad
to hear it.
Verg.
And so am I.
Leon.
I would fain know what you have to say.
Verg.
Marry, Sir, our Watch to Night, excepting your
Worship's Presence, have tane a couple of as arrant Knaves,
as any in Messina.
Dogb.
A good old Man, Sir, he will be talking as they say,
when the Age is in, the Wit is out, God help us, it is a
World to see: Well said i'faith, Neighbour Verges, well,
God's a good Man, and two Men rides an Horse, one must
ride behind, an honest Soul i'faith Sir, by my Troth he is,
as ever broke Bread, but God is to be worshipt, all Men
are not alike, alas good Neighbour.
Leon.
Indeed Neighbour he comes too short of you.
Dogb.
Gifts that God gives.
Leon.
I must leave you.
Dogb.
One word, Sir, our Watch have indeed comprehended
two aspicious Persons, and we would have them this
Morning examin'd before your Worship.
Leon.
Take their Examination your self, and bring it me,
I am now in great haste, as may appear unto you.
Dogb.
It shall be suffigance.
Leon.
Drink some Wine e'er you go: Fare you well.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My Lord, they stay for you to give your Daughter
to her Husband.
Leon.
I'll wait upon them. I am ready.
[Ex. Leonato.
Dogb.
Go good Partner, go get you to Francis Seacoale, bid
him bring his Pen and Inkhorn to the Goal; we are now to
examine those Men.
Verg.
And we must do it wisely.
Dogb.
We will spare for no Wit I warrant you; here's that
shall drive some of them to a non-come, only get the learn'd
Writer to set down our Excommunication, and meet me at
the Goal.
[Exeunt.
-- 363 --
Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
