DOGBERRY.
Flat burglary as ever was committed.
VERGES.
Yea, by the mass, that it is.
SEXTON. What else, fellow?
FIRST WATCH. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her.
DOGBERRY. O villain! thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this.
SEXTON.
What else?
SECOND WATCH.
This is all.
SEXTON. And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away: Hero was in this manner accused, in this manner refused, 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.]
DOGBERRY.
Come, let them be opinioned.
VERGES.
Let them be in the hands—
CONRADE.
Off, coxcomb!
DOGBERRY. God’s my life! where’s the sexton? let him write down the prince’s officer coxcomb. Come, bind them. Thou naughty varlet!
CONRADE.
Away! you are an ass; you are an ass.
DOGBERRY. Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my years? O that he were here to write me down an 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 proved 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 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 everything handsome about him. Bring him away. O that I had been writ down an ass!
[Exeunt.]
ACT 5.
Scene 1. Before LEONATO’S House.
[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO.]
ANTONIO.
If you go on thus, you will kill yourself
And ‘tis not wisdom thus to second grief
Against yourself.
LEONATO.
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 to me 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’ 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 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.
ANTONIO.
Therein do men from children nothing differ.
LEONATO.
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.
ANTONIO.
Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself;
Make those that do offend you suffer too.
LEONATO.
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.
ANTONIO.
Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily.
[Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO.]
DON PEDRO.
Good den, good den.
CLAUDIO.
Good day to both of you.
LEONATO.
Hear you, my lords,—
DON PEDRO.
We have some haste, Leonato.
LEONATO.
Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord:
Are you so hasty now?—well, all is one.
DON PEDRO.
Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.
ANTONIO.
If he could right himself with quarrelling,
Some of us would lie low.
CLAUDIO.
Who wrongs him?
LEONATO.
Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou.
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword; I fear thee not.
CLAUDIO.
Marry, beshrew my hand,
If it should give your age such cause of fear.
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
LEONATO.
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 innocent child and me
That I am forc’d to lay my reverence by,
And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days,