subscribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them all together; which maintain'd so politic 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 first suffer love for me?

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

Beat. In spite of your heart, I think: alas, poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.

5

Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that liv'd in the time of good neighbours: If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you?

Bene. Question: "— Why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum: 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 virtues, as I am to myself: So much for praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is praise-worthy. And now tell me, how doth your

cousin?

That is, when men were not envious, but every one gave another his due.

This phrase seems equivalent to, -"You ask a question indeed!" or, "That is the question!"

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 haste.

Enter URSULA.

Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle: Yonder'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 fled and gone: Will you come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?

8

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

[Exeunt

SCENE III. The Inside of a Church.

Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and Attendants,
with music and tapers.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato ?
Atten. It is, my lord.

7 That is, huge bustle, or stir. Old was much used as an aug. mentative in familiar language, perhaps because things that are old have given proof of strength, in having outstood the trial of time. Thus, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. sc. 4 "Here will be an old abusing of God's patience, and the king's English." So, likewise, in Dekker's comedy, "If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it:" "We shall have old breaking of necks." And in Le Bone Florence, quoted by Boswell: "Gode olde fyghtyng was there." 8 Mr. Collier says, -The Rev. Mr. Barry suggests to me that the words heart and eyes have in some way changed places

in the old copies "

H.

H

Claud. [Reads.]

Epitaph.

Done to death' by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon" of her wrongs,

Gives her fame which never dies:
So the life, that died with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb. -

Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

Song.

Pardon, goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight ;'
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.

Midnight, assist our moan;

Help us to sigh and groan,

Heavily, heavily:

Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,

Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily.*

This phrase occurs frequently in writers of Shakespeare's time it appears to be derived from the French phrase, faire

mourir.

* Reward.

3 Knight was a common poetical appellation of virgins in Shakespeare's time; probably in allusion to their being the vo tarists of Diana, whose chosen pastime was in knightly sports. Thus, in Fletcher's Two Noble Kinsmen, Act v. sc. 1: "O! sacred, shadowy, cold, and constant queen, Abandoner of revels, mute, contemplative, Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure As wind-fann'd snow, who to thy female knights Allow'st no more blood than will make a blush, Which is their order's robe."

H.

4 We here give the reading of the quarto, though we confess

Claul. Now, unto thy bones good night!
Yearly will I do this rite.

D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put you. torches out:

The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day
Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
Thanks to you all, and leave us: fare you well.
Claud. Good morrow, masters: each his several
way.

D. 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 speeds, Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in LEONATO'S House.

Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, URSULA, Friar, and HERO.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd

her

Upon the error that you heard debated:

ourselves somewhat puzzled to find its meaning, and on the whole rather doubtful whether it have any. The folio reads, "Heav enly, heavenly," which seems still more obscure or meaningless, but which Knight and Verplanck retain, explaining uttered to mean put out or expelled, a sense which it sometimes bears, and heav enly to mean by the power of heaven. In this case the sense jumps well enough with what goes before, but it looks too much like making the passage a hieroglyph. Steevens' explanation is, "till songs of death be uttered; which makes heavily appropri ate; but then it gives a sense that can hardly be crushed into agreement with what precedes. Difficult as the meaning is either way, we keep to the reading that has the oldest authority. Mr. Dyce justly urges against the reading of the folio, that it gives a

But Margaret was in some fault for this;
Although against her will, as it appears
In the true course of all the question.

Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd: The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour To visit me. - You know your office, brother; You must be father to your brother's daughter, And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies

Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance. Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. Friar. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me; one of them.Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most

true.

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from

me,

From Claudio, and the prince: But what's your will?

Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:

But, for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
In the estate of honourable marriage:

In which, good Friar, I shall desire your help

passage in Hamlet, Act ii. sc. 2, thus: "And indeed, it goes so heavenly with my disposition, that this goodly frame the Earth seems to me a steril promontory." And he thinks heavenly is as certainly a misprint for heavily in one case as in the other.

н.