Array MyBooks Classics - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Illustrated edition (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry Books With Active Table of Contents)

Enter the Constables [Dogberry and Verges] and the Town Clerk [or Sexton] in gowns, [and the Watch with Conrade and] Borachio.

Dog. Is our whole dissembly appear’d?

Verg. O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton.

Sex. Which be the malefactors?

Dog. Marry, that am I and my partner.

Verg. Nay, that’s certain, we have the exhibition to examine.

Sex. But which are the offenders that are to be examin’d? Let them come before Master Constable.

Dog. Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

Dog. Pray write down Borachio. Yours, sirrah?

Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.

Dog. Write down Master Gentleman Conrade. Masters, do you serve God?

Both [Con., Bora.] Yea, sir, we hope.

Dog. Write down, that they hope they serve God; and write God first, for God defend but God should go before such villains! Masters, it is prov’d already that you are little better than false knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves?

Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none.

Dog. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you, but I will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah; a word in your ear, sir. I say to you, it is thought you are false knaves.

Bora. Sir, I say to you, we are none.

Dog. Well, stand aside. ’Fore God, they are both in a tale. Have you writ down, that they are none?

Sex. Master Constable, you go not the way to examine; you must call forth the watch that are their accusers.

Dog. Yea, marry, that’s the eftest way; let the watch come forth. Masters, I charge you in the Prince’s name accuse these men.

1. Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John, the Prince’s brother, was a villain.

Dog. Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this is flat perjury, to call a prince’s brother villain.

Bora. Master Constable—

Dog. Pray thee, fellow, peace. I do not like thy look, I promise thee.

Sex. What heard you him say else?

2. Watch. Marry, that he had receiv’d a thousand ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully.

Dog. Flat burglary as ever was committed.

Verg. Yea, by mass, that it is.

Sex. What else, fellow?

1. Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her.

Dog. O villain! thou wilt be condemn’d into everlasting redemption for this.

Sex. What else?

[1. And 2.] Watch. This is all.

Sex. And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stol’n away. Hero was in this manner accus’d, in this very manner refus’d, and upon the grief of this suddenly died. Master Constable, let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato’s. I will go before and show him their examination.

[Exit.]

[Dog.] Come let them be opinion’d.

Verg. Let them be in the hands—

[Con.] [Off,] coxcomb!

Dog. God’s my life, where’s the sexton? Let him write down the Prince’s officer coxcomb. Come, bind them. Thou naughty varlet!

[Con.] Away, you are an ass, you are an ass.

Dog. Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my years? O that he were here to write me down as ass! But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be prov’d upon thee by good witness. I am a wise fellow, and which is more, an officer, and which is more, a householder, and which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in Messina, and one that knows the law, go to, and a rich fellow enough, go to, and a fellow that hath had losses, and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handsome about him. Bring him away. O that I had been writ down an ass!

Exeunt.

¶

Robert Smirke , p. — John Ogborne , e.

Enter Leonato and his brother [Antonio].

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 delight mine ear

But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.

Bring me a father that so lov’d his child,

Whose joy of her is overwhelm’d like mine,

And bid him speak 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,

And, sorrow wag, cry “hem!” when he should groan,

Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk

With candle-wasters, bring him yet to me,

And I of him will gather patience.

But there is no such man, for, brother, men

Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief

Which they themselves not feel, but tasting it,

Their counsel turns to passion, which before

Would give preceptial med’cine 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 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 dishonor her.

Enter Prince [Don Pedro] and Claudio.

Ant.

Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.

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?

Leon.

Marry, thou 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.