Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will 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 maintained so politic a state of evil, that they will not admit auy 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. Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours: if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere be 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 ? Beat. Very ill. Bene. And how do you? Beat. Very ill too. Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend: then 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 accused, the prince and Claudio mightily abused; 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? 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. Claud. [Reads from a scroll.] Done to death by slanderous tongues [AMxing it. Praising her when I am dumb.Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn bymu, SONG. * Reward. Graves, yawn, and yield your dead, Claud. Now, unto thy bones good night! D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches out; The wolves have prey'd; and look, the genBefore the wheels of Phoebus, round about tle day, Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray : 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, Thau 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: 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 an forc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; [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 Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite 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 our's, this day to be conjoin'd In the estate of honourable marriage :In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. Leon. My heart is with your liking. Friar. And my help. Here comes the prince, and Claudio. Enter Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO, with D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assem Leon. Good-morrow, prince; good-morrow, Claudio; We here attend you; are you yet determin'd Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar ready. (Exit ANTONIO. D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull: [gold, Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with Which is the lady I must seize upon ? Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me see your face. Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her Hero. Nothing certainer: D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived. Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice ? Bene. Do not you love me? Have been deceived; for they swore you did. Bene. No, no more than reason. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula. Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me. Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me. Bene. 'Tis no such matter :-Then, you do no love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, consin, I am sure you love the gentleman. Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves For here's a paper, written in his hand, [her; A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashion'd to Beatrice. Hero. And here's another, Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket. Containing her affection unto Benedick. Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts !-Come, I will have thee; but by this light, I take thee for pity. Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.[Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit crackers cannot flout me out of my humour: Dost thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: In brief, since I do prepose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.-For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin." Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. Bene, Come, come, we are friends;-let's have a dauce ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels. Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Bene. First, o' my word! therefore, play, music. Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. SHAKSPEARE was supposed to have taken the two plots of this admirable play from an Italian novel, and from a collection of old stories, printed by Wynkin de Worde, under the title of Gesta Romanorum; but as a play comprehending the incidents of both had been exhibited long before he commenced writing for the stage, ho probably chose the latter as a model for his own production. It matters not, however, from what source a dramatic author derives his plot, so that he plan it well, and make good use of it afterward; and Johnson says, that in this play "the union of two actions in one event is eminently happy;" excelling even Dryden's skilful conjunction of the two plots in his Spanish Friar, yet the interest of the action can scarcely be said to continue beyond the disgrace of Shylock, in the fourth act; since expectation is so strongly fixed upon "justice and the bond," that it ceases to exist after they are satisfied. In the defeat of cunning, and in the triumph of humanity, the most powerful feelings of our nature are successively appealed to: thus anticipation is keenly alive, so long as Antonio's fate is dark and undecided. But with the development of that, the charm is at an end. The power of excitement expires with the object upon which the feelings were centered; and as the lesser passions are susceptible of little delight, when the greater have been subjected to any unusual stimulant, the common-place trifles of the concluding act are rather endured with patience, that received with gratification. The character of Shylock is no less original, than it is finely finished: "the language, allusions, and ideas (says Henly) ere so appropriate to a Jew, that Shylock might be exhibited for an exemplar of that peculiar people;" nor are the other personages unpleasingly drawn or inadequately supported. Of detached passages, Portia's description of the qualities and excellence of mercy, may bɔ selected as one of the moblest attributes with which Genius has ever exalted the excellence of any particular virtue. SALANIO, OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot. STEPHANO, SALARINO, Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. PORTIA, a rich Heiress: GRATIANO, LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOвBо, a Clown, Servant to Shy lock. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of SCENE-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portla, on the Continent. ACT I. SCENE 1.-Venice.-A Street. But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean : Ships of large burthen, probably galleons. Would make me sad. Salar. My wind cooling my broth, |