VILLE DE LYON

Grande Bibliothèque

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 lofses; and one that hath two gowns, and, every thing handsome about him:-Bring him away. O, that I had been writ down-an afs!

[Exeunt.

1

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 profitlefs
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 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.

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 toothach patiently;
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a pish 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 dishonour her.

Enter Don Pedro, and Claudio.

Ant. Here comes the prince, and Claudio, hastily.
Pedro. Good den, good den.