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. Therein do men from children nothing differ. 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. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself; Make those that do offend you suffer too. 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. Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily. Good den, good den. Good day to both of you. Hear you. my lords,-- We have some haste, Leonato. Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord: Are you so hasty now? well, all is one. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. If he could right himself with quarreling, Some of us would lie low. Who wrongs him? Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou:-- Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword; I fear thee not. Marry, beshrew my hand, If it should give your age such cause of fear: In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword. 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 forced to lay my reverence by And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days, Do challenge thee to trial of a man. I say thou hast belied mine innocent child; Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart, And she lies buried with her ancestors; O, in a tomb where never scandal slept, Save this of hers, framed by thy villany! My villany? Thine, Claudio; thine, I say. You say not right, old man. My lord, my lord, I'll prove it on his body, if he dare, Despite his nice fence and his active practise, His May of youth and