235 you fee he is, doth doubtlefly believe the accufed Parties, which is himself to be guilty, Mar. I fay no fuch thing. Juft. Write it down I fay, we'll try that. Pray God you did not kill him for my Love, [Afide to Maria. Though I am free from this, we both deferveMár. Govern your Tongue I pray you, all is well, My Husband lives, I know it, and I fee him. Juft. They whisper, fever them quickly I fay, Officers, why do you let them prompt one another? Gentlewoman, what fay you to this, are not you guilty? Mar. No, as I hope for Mercy. Juft. But are not thofe Circumstances true, that this Gentleman hath so shortly and methodically deliver'd? Mar. They are; and what you do with me, I care not, Since he is dead, in whom was all my care; You knew him not? Fuft. No, an't been better for you too, and you had never known him. Mar. Why then you did not know the World's chief Joy; His Face fo manly as it had been made To fright the World, yet he fo fweetly temper'd, To do a noble kindness for a Friend. He was a Man whofe Name I'll not out-live, Ant. And I will quit thy Kindness. [Afide. Juft. (51) Before me, fhe has made the Tears ftand (51) Before me,] I had once alter'd this Paffage thus, Befhrew me, Imagining the old Text had neither Senfe nor Authority to plead in its defence: But Ben Johnson has fince that time fufficiently convinc'd me of the Soundness of this Phrafe, by his ufing it more more than once in the Body of his Works. VOL. IX. in mine Eyes, but I must be auftere: Gentlewoman, you muft confefs this Murder. Mar. I cannot, Sir; I did it not, but I defire to fee Thofe Examinations which this Gentleman But late laft Night I receiv'd Letters from Just. You fhall fee them time enough I warrant you; but Letters you fay you had, where are those Letters? Mar. Sir, they are gone. Juft. Gone? whither are they gone? How have you difpos'd of 'em? Mar. Why, Sir, they are for Womens matters, and fa I use 'em. Juft. Who writ 'em? Mar. A Man of mine. Just. A Poft? there is fome great hafte fure, ha, ha, where is that Poft? Mar. Sir, there he stands. Juft. Does he fo? bring hither that Poft, I am afraid that Poft will prove a Knave; come hither, Poft, what? what can you fay concerning the Murder of Antonio? Ant. What's that to you? Juft. O Poft, you have no Answer ready, have you? I'll have one from you. Ant. You fhall have no more from me than you have, you examine an honeft Gentleman and Gentlewoman here? 'Tis pity fuch Fools as you should be i'th' Commiffion. Juft. Say you fo, Poft, take away that Poft, whip him and bring him again quickly, I'll hamper you Post. Mer. 'Tis Antonio, I know him now as well what an irregular Fool is this? Ant. Whip me? hold off. Mar. Oh good Sir, whip him; by his murmuring He should know fomething of my Husband's Death, That That may quit me; for God's fake fetch it out. Juft. Whip him I say. Ant. Who is't dares whip me now? Mar. Oh my lov'd Husband. Friend? Where have you been fo long? [Throws off his Difguife. Mer. My moft worthy Juft. Why, what's the matter now, and fhall not Law then have her Courfe? And. It fhall have no other Course than it has, I think. Juft. It fhall have other Course before I go, or I'll beat. my Brains; and I fay it was not honeftly done of him to discover himself, before the Parties accus'd were executed, that Law might have had her Course, for then the Kingdom flourishes. Ant. But fuch a Wife as thou, had never any Man, And fuch a Friend as he, believe me Wife, Shall never be; good Wife, love my Friend; Friend, love my Wife; hark Friend. Juft. Mark, if we can have nothing to do, you fhall' fwear the Peace of fomebody. Mark. Yes, Sir. Ant. By my Troth I'm forry my Wife is so obftinate; Sooth, if I could yet do thee any good, I wou'd, i' faith I wou'd. Mer: I thank you, Sir, I've loft that Paffion. Ant. Coufin Curio, You and I must be better acquainted. Cur. It is my With, Sir. Ant. I fhould not have known you neither, 'tis fo long fince we faw each other, we were but Children then; but you have fhew'd yourself an honest Man to me. Cur. I would be ever fo. Enter Ricardo and Viola, Moth. Look you, who's there? And. (52) And. Say nothing to me, for Thy Peace is made. Ric. Sir, I can nothing fay, Fuft. I think I fhall hear of no hanging this Year; there's a Tinker and a Whore yet, the Cryer said, that robb'd her, and are in Prifon, I hope they fhall be hang'd. And. No, truly Sir, they have broke Prison. Juft. 'Tis no matter, then the Jaylor fhall be hang'd. And. You are deceiv'd in that too, Sir, 'twas known To be against his Will, and he hath got it. His Pardon, I think, for nothing, You shall stay Dinner, I've a couple of brawling Mer. Go, Gentlemen, go in. Ric. Oh Viola, that no fucceeding Age Might lose the Memory of what thou wert; But fuch an overfwayed Sex is yours, That all the virtuous Actions you can do, Are but as Men will call them; and I fwear, 'Tis my Belief, that Women want but Ways To praise their Deeds, but Men want Deeds to praife. [Exeunt Omnes. (52) Ant. Say nothing to me,-] Mr. Theobald, from the Copy of 1679, reads Andrugio here, and fo on to the End of the Play; but he might have added, that no Copy but that of 1711 is guilty of this Mistake. |