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D. Pedro. That would I know too; I warrant, them, if they should have any allegiance in them, one that knows him not.
being chosen for the prince's watch. Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in d... Verg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour spite of all, dies for him.
Dogberry. D. Pedro. She shall be buried with her face up Dogb. First, who think you the most desartless wards.
man to be constable ? Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach.- 1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; Old signior, walk aside with me; I have studied for they can write and read. eight or nine wise words to speak to you, which Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal : God hath these hobby-horses must not bear.
blessed you with a good name: to be a well-favour[E.reunt Benedick and Leonato. ed man is the gift of fortune; but to write and D. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about read comes by nature. Beatrice.
2 Watch. Both which, master constable, Claul. 'Tis even so : Hero and Margaret have by Dogb. You have; I knew it would be your anthis played their parts with Beatrice; and then the swer. Well, for your favour, sir, why, give God two bears will not bite one another, when they meet. thanks, and make no boast of it; and for your Enter Don John.
writing and reading, let that appear when there is
no need of such vanity. You are thought here to D. John. My lord and brother, God save you. be the most senseless and fit man for the constable D. Pedro. Good den, brother.
of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern : This D. John. If your leisure served, I would speak is your charge ; You shall comprehend all vagrom with you.
men ; you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's D. Pedro. In private ?
D. John. If it please you ;-yet count Claudio may 2 Watch. How if he will not stand ? hear; for what I would speak of, concerns him. Dogb. Why then, take no note of him, but let D. Pedro. What's the matter ?
him go; and presently call the rest of the watch D. John. Means your lordship to be married to-together, and thank God you are rid of a knave. morrow?
[To Claudio. Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he D. Pedro. You know, he does.
is none of the prince's subjects. D. John. I know not that, when he knows what | Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none I know.
but the prince's subjects :-You shall also make no Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble discover it.
and talk, is most tolerable and not to be endured. D. John. You may think, I love you not ; let that 2 Watch. We will rather sleep than talk; we appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now know what belongs to a watch. will manifest: For my brother, I think, he holds Dogb. Why, you speak like an ancient and most you well; and in dearness of heart hath holp to quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping effect your ensuing marriage : surely, suit ill spent, should offend: only, have a care that your bills be and labour ill bestowed !
not stolen :- Well, you are to call at all the aleD. Pedro. Why, what's the matter ?
houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed. D. John. I came hither to tell you: and, circum- 2 Watch. How if they will not? stances shortened, (for she hath been too long a Dogb. Why then, let them alone till they are talking of) the lady is disloyal.
sober; if they make you not then the better answer, Claud. Who? Hero ?
you may say, they are not the men you took them D. John. Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, for. every man's Hero.
2 Watch. Well, sir. Claud. Disloyal ?
Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, D. John. The word is too good to paint out her by virtue of your office, to be no true man: and, wickedness; I could say, she were worse; think you for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder with them, why, the more is for your honesty. not till further warrant: go but with me to-night, 2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we you shall see her chamber-window entered; even not lay hands on him ? the night before her wedding-day: if you love her Dogb. Truly, by your office, you may ; but, I then, to-morrow wed her ; but it would better fit think, they that touch pitch will be defiled : the your honour to change your mind.
most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, Claud. May this be so ?
is, to let him show himself what he is, and steal out D. Pedro. I will not think it.
of your company. D. John. If you dare not trust that you see, con- Verg. You have been always called a merciful fess not that you know: if you will follow me, I man, partner. will show you enough; and when you have seen Dogb. Truly, I would not hang a dog by my more, and heard more, proceed accordingly. will; much more a man who hath any honesty in
Claud. If I see any thing to-night why I should him. not marry her to-morrow; in the congregation, Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you where I should wed, there will I shame her must call to the nurse, and bid her still it.
D. Pedro. And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, 2 Watch. How if the nurse be asleep, and will I will join with thee to disgrace her.
not hear us? D. John. I will disparage her no farther, till you Dogb. Why then, depart in peace, and let the are my witnesses : bear it coldly but till midnight, child wake her with crying : for the ewe that will and let the issue show itself.
not hear her lamb when it baes, will never answer D. Pedro. O day untowardly turned !
a calf when it bleats. Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting!
Verg. 'Tis very true. D. John. O plague right well prevented !
Dogb. This is the end of the charge. You, conSo will you say, when you have seen the sequel. stable, are to present the prince's own person ; if
[Exeunt. you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him.
Verg, Nay by'r lady, that, I think, he cannot. SCENE III.-A Street.
Dogb. Five shillings to one on't, with any man
that knows the statues, he may stay him : marry, Enter Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch.
not withont the prince be willing : for, indeed, the Dogb. Are you good men and true ?
watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offence Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should to stay a man against his will. suffer salvation, body and soul.
Verg. By'r lady, I think, it be so. Dogb. Nay, that were a punishment too good for Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be any matter of weight chances, call up what he saw over-night, and send her home again me : keep your fellows' counsels and your own, and without a husband. good night. Come, neighbuur.
I Watch. We charge you in the prince's name, 9 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let stand. us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and 2 Watch. Call up the right master Constable : then all to-bed.
we have here recovered the most dangerous piece Dogb. One word more, honest neighbours: I of lechery that ever was known in the commonpray you, watch about signior Leonato's door; for wealth. the wedding being there to-morrow, there is a 1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them ; I great coil to-night: Adieu, be vigitant, I beseech know him, he wears a lock. you.
(Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. Con. Masters, masters. Enter Borachio and Conrade.
2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth,
I warrant you. Bora. What ! Conrade,
Con. Masters, Watch, Peace, stir not.
[Aside. 1 Watch. Never speak; we charge you, let us Bora. Conrade, I say !
obey you to go with us. Con. Here, man, I am at thy elbow.
| Bora. We are likely to prove a goodly commoBora. Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought, dity, being taken up of these men's bills. there would a scab follow.
1 Con. A commodity in question, I warrant you. Con. I will owe thee an answer for that ; and Come, we'll obey you. now forward with thy tale. Bora. Stand thee close then under this pent.
SCENE IV.-A Room in Leonato's House. house, for it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula. drunkard, utter all to thee.
Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, Watch. (aside. Some treason, masters; yet and desire her to rise. stand close.
Urs. I will, lady. Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Don
I nave earned of Don Hero. And bid her come hither. John a thousand ducats.
(Erit Ursula. Con. Is it possible that any villainy should be so
Marg. Troth, I think, your other rabato were dear?
better Bora. Thou should'st rather ask, if it were possi
- Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. ble any villainy should be so rich; for when rich
Marg. By my troth, it's not so good ; and I villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may laman
Os ones, poor ones way warrant, your cousin will say so. make what price they will.
Hero. My cousin's a fool, and thou art another ; Con. I wonder at it.
I'll wear none but this. Bora. That shows, thou art unconfirmed: Thou
1 Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if knowest, that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or
the hair were a thought browner : and your gown's a cloak, is nothing to a man.
a most rare fashion, i'faith. I saw the duchess of Con. Yes, it is apparel.
Milan's gown, that they praise so. Bora. I mean, the fashion.
Hero. O, that exceeds, they say. Con. Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
Marg. By my troth it's but a night gown in Bora. Tush! I may as well say, the fool's the
respect of your's : Cloth of gold, and cuts, and laced fool. But see'st thou not what a deformed thief
with silver ; set with pearls, down sleeves, sidethis fashion is?
sleeves, and skirts round, underborne with a blueish Watch. I know that Deformed; he has been a
tinsel : but for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excel vile thief this seven year; he goes up and down
lent fashion, yours is worth ten on't. like a gentleman: I remember his name.
Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart Bora. Didst thou not hear somebody?
is exceeding heavy! Con. No; 'twas the vane on the house.
Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of a Bora. See'st thou not, I say, what a deformed
man. thief this fashion is ? how giddily he turns about
Hero. Fye upon thee! art not ashamed ? all the hot bloods, between fourteen and five and
Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? thirty ? sometime, fashi ning them like Pharaoh's Is not marriage honourable in a beggar ? Is not soldiers in the reechy painting ; sometime, like godon
Bod your lord honourable without marriage! I think, Bel's priests in the old church window, sometime, lon
you would have me say, saving your reverence, like the shaven Hercules in the smirched worm
a husband : an bad thinking do not wrest true speak. eaten tapestry, where his cod-piece seems as massy line
sying, I'll offend nobody: Is there any harm
inas his club?
the heavier for a husband ? None, I think, an it be Con. All this I see; and see, that the fashion
the right husband, and the right wife ; otherwise wears out more apparel than the man: But art not
'tis light, and not heavy: Ask my lady Beatrice thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou
else, here she comes. hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion ?
Enter Beatrice. Bora. Not so neither : but know, that I have to Hero. Good morrow, coz. night wooed Margaret, the lady Hero's gentle Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero. woman, by the name of Hero; she leans me out at Hero. Why, how now ! do you speak in the sick her mistress' chamber window, bids me a thousand tune ? times good night, I tell this tale vilely :- I should Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. first tell thee, how the Prince, Claudio, and my Marg. Clap us into-Light o' love ; that goes master, planted, and placed, and possessed by my without a burden ; do you sing it, and I'll dance it. master Don John, saw afar otf' in the orchard this Beat. Yea, Light o' love, with your heels!-then amiable encounter
if your husband have stables enough, you'll see he Con. And thought they, Margaret was Hero? shall lack no barns.
Bora. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio; Marg. O illegitimate construction ! l scorn that but the devil my master knew she was Margaret ; with my heels. and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin ; 'tis time partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, you were ready. By my troth I am exceeding ill :but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any hey ho! slander that Don John had made, away went Clau. Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband ? dio enraged: swore he would meet her as he was! Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H. appointed, next morning at the temple, and there,l Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's etore the whole congregation, shame her with no more sailing by the star.
Beat. What means the fool, trow?
God help us ! it is a world to see !-Well said, Marg. Nothing I ; but God send every one their i'faith, neighbour Verges :-well, God's a good heart's desire !
man; an two men ride of a horse, one must ride Hero. These gloves the count sent me, they are behind :--An honest soul, i'faith, sir ; by my troth an excellent perfume.
he is, as ever broke bread: but God is to be wor. Beat. I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell. shipped: All men are not alike; alas, good neigh
Marg. A maid, and stuffed ! there's goodly catch- bour! ing of cold.
| Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of Beat. 0, God help me! God help me! how long you. have you profess'd apprehension ?
Dogb. Gifts, that God gives. Marg. Ever since you left it: doth not my wit Leon. I must leave you. become me rarely ?
Dogh. One word, sir : our watch, sir, have, inBeat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it deed, comprehended two auspicious persons, and we in your cap.-By my troth, I am sick.
would have them this morning examined before Marg. Get you some of this distilled Carduus l your worship. Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring thing for a qualm.
it me; I am now in great haste, as it may appear Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thistle.
unto you. Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus ? you have Dogb. It shall be suffigance. some moral in this Benedictus.
| Leon. Drink some wine ere you go : fare you well. Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy-thistle. You may
Enter a Messenger. think. perchance, that I think you are in love : Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your nay, by'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what|daughter to her husband. I list nor I list not to think what I can ; nor, in- Leon. I will wait upon them; I am ready. deed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart
(Exeunt Leonato and Messenger. out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you Dogb. Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Seacoal, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the Benedick was such another, and now is he become gaol: we are now to examination these men. a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet Verg. And we must do it wisely. now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat with Dogb. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you: out grudging: and how you may be converted, I here's that (touching his forehead.) shall drive some know not ; but, methinks, you look with your eyes of them to a non com: only get the learned writer as other women do.
to set down our excommunication, and meet me Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps ? at the gaol.
(Eseunt Marg. Not a false gallop. Re-enter Ursula.
ACT IV. Urs. Madam, withdraw ; the prince, the count, signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants
SCENE I.-The Inside of a Church. of the town, are come to fetch you to church.
Enter Don Pedro, Don John, Leonato, Friar, ClauHero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg,
dio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice, &c. good Ursula.
Leon. Come, friar Francis, be brief ; only to the SCENE V.-Another Roorn in Leonato's House. Tplain form of marriage, and you shall recount their
particular duties afterwards. Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges.
Friar. You come hither, my lord, to marry this Leon. What would you with me, honest neigh-lady? bour?
Claud. No. Dogb. Marry, sir, I would have some confidence Leon. To be married to her, friar; you come to with you, that decerns you nearly.
marry her. Leon. Brief, I pray you; for you see, 'tis a busy Friar. Lady, you come hither to be married to time with me.
this count? Dogb. Marry, this it is, sir.
Hero. I do. , Verg. Yes, in truth it is, sir.
Friar. If either of you know any inward impedi. Leon. What is it, my good friends?
ment why you should not be conjoined, I charge Dogb. Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off you, on your souls, to utter it. the matter : an old man, sir, and his wits are not Claud. Know you any, Hero? so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were ;] Hero. None, my lord. but, in faith, honest, as the skin between his brows. Friar. Know you any, count?
Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any Leon. I dare make his answer, none. man living, that is an old man, and no honester Claud. O, what men dare do! what men may do! than I.
what men daily do! not knowing what they do! Dogb. Comparisons are odorous : palabras, neigh- Bene. How now ! Interjections? Why, then some bour Verges.
be of laughing, as, ha! ha! he! Leon. Neighbonrs, you are tedious.
Claud. Stand thee by, friar :-Father, by your Dogb. It pleases your worship to say so, but we Will you with free and unconstrained soul fleave : are the poor duke's officers; but, truly, for mine Give me this maid, your daughter ? own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me. find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose Leon. All thy tediousness on me! ha!
worth Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more May counterpoise this rich and precious gift? than 'tis : for I hear as good exclamation on your 1 D. Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again. worship, as of any man in the city; and though I Claud. Sweet prince, you learn me noble tbankbe but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.
There, Leonato, take her back again; (fulness. Verg. And so am I.
Give not this rotten orange to your friend; Leon. I would fain know what you have to say. She's but the sign and semblance of her honour :
Verg. Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting Behold, how like a maid she blushes here: your worship's presence, have ta'en a couple of as 0, what authority and show of truth arrant knaves as any in Messina.
Can cunning sin cover itself withal ! • Dogb. A good old man, sir; he will be talking; Comes not that blood, as modest evidence, as they say, When the age is in, the wit is out; To witness simple virtue ? Would you not swear,
All you that see her, that she were a maid, 1 D. John. Come, let us go : these things, come By these exterior shows ? But she is none :
Smother her spirits up.
[thus to light, She knows the heat of a luxurious bed :
[Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio. Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
Bene. How doth the lady? Leon. What do you mean, my lord ?
Dead, I think ;-help, uncle ;Claud.
"Not to be married, Hero! why, Hero !-Uncle !Signior Benedick! Not knit my soul to an approved wanton.
friar ! Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof Leon. O fate, take not away thy heavy hand! Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth,
Death is the fairest cover for her shame, And made defeat of her virginity,
That may be wish'd for. Claud. I know what you would say ; If I have Beat.
How now, cousin Hero ? known her,
Friar. Have comfort, lady. You'll say, she did embrace me as a husband,
Dost thou look up ? And so extenuate the 'forehand sin:
Friar. Yea; Wherefore should she not? No, Leonato,
Leon. Wherefore ? Why, doth not every earthl: I never tempted her with word too large ;
thing But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Cry shame upon her ? Could she here deny Bashful sincerity, and comely love.
The story that is printed in her blood ? Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you? Do not live, Hero ; do not ope thine eyes : Claud. Out on thy seeming! I will write against For did I think thou wouldst not quickly die, You seem to me as Dian in her orb;
[it: Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
shames, But you are more intemperate in your blood Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one ? That rage in savage sensuality.
Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame ? Hero. Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide ? 10, one too much by thee! Why had I one ? Leon. Sweet prince, why speak not you?
Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes ? D. Pedro.
What should I speak ? Why had I not with charitable hand, I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
Took up a beggar's issue at my gates; To link my dear friend to a common stale.
Who smirched thus, and mired with infamy, Leon. Are these things spoken ? or do I but I might have said, No part of it is mine, dream?
fare true. This shame derives itself from unknown loins ! D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd, Bene. This looks not like a nuptial.
And mine that I was proud on ; mine so much, Hro.
True, O God! That I myself was to myself not mine,
Valuing of her; why, she-0, she is fallen
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again;
2Let me but move one question to your To her foul tainted flesh !
Sir, sir, be patient: And by that fatherly and kindly power
For my part I am so attir'd in wonder,
I know not what to say.
Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? What kind of catechising call you this?
Beat. No, truly not; although, until last night Claud. To make you answer truly to your name. I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow,
Hero. Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger With any just reproach?
Marry, that can Hero : Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron ! Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
Would the two princes lie? and Claudio lie? What man was he talk'd with you yesternight Who lov'd her so, that, speaking of her foulness, Out at your window, betwixt twelve and one ? Wash'd it with tears? Hence from her ; let her die. Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.
Friar. Hear me a little ;
By noting of the lady; I have mark'd
Into her face; a thousand innocent shames
And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, Who hath, indeed, most like a liberal villain, To burn the errors that these princes hold Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
Against her maiden truth :-Call me a fool ; A thousand times in secret.
Trust not my reading, nor my observations, D. John.
Fye, fye! they are Which with experimental seal doth warrant Not to be nam'd my lord, not to be spoke of;
The tenour of my book ; trust not my age, There is not chastity enough in language,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity, Without offence, to utter them: Thus, pretty lady, If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
Under some biting error Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou been, Leon.
Friar, it cannot be : If half thy outward graces had been placed
I Thou seest, that all the grace that she hath left, About thy thoughts, and counsels of thy heart! Is, that she will not add to her damnation But, fare thee well, most foul, most fair ! farewell, A sin of perjury; she not denies it : Thou pure impiety, and impious purity!
Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love,
That which appears in proper nakedness? And on my eye-lids shall conjecture hang,
Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of? To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
Hero. They know, that do accuse me; I know And never shall it more be gracious.
none: Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? If I know more of any man alive,
Hero swoons. Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, Beat. Why, how now, cousin ? wherefore sink Let all my sins lack mercy !0 my father, you down?
Prove you that any man with me convers'd
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this Maintain'd the change of words with any creature, while ? Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death.
Beat. Yea, and I will weep awhile longer. Friar. There is some strange misprision in the Bene. I will not desire that. princes
Beat. You have no reason, I do it freely. Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour; Bene. Surely, I do believe your fair cousin is And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
wrong'd. The practice of it lives in John the bastard,
Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies.
me that would right her! Leon. I know not; If they speak but truth of her, Bene. Is there any way to show such friendship? These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her Beat. A very even way, but no such friend. honour,
Bene. May a man do it? The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
Beat. It is a man's office, but not your's. Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as Nor age so eat up my invention,
you; Is not that strange ? Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
Beat. As strange as the thing I know not: It Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, were as possible for me to say, I loved nothing so But they shall find, awak'd in such a kind, well as you : but believe me not; and yet I lie not; Both strength of limb, and policy of mind,
I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing :- I am Ability in means, and choice of friends,
sorry for my cousin. To quit me of them thoroughly.
Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. Friar.
Pause a while,
Beat. Do not swear by it, and eat it. And let my counsel sway you in this case.
Bene. I will swear by it, that you love me; and Your daughter here the princes left for dead; I will make him eat it, that says, I love not you. Let her a while be secretly kept in,
Beat. Will you not eat your word ? And publish it that she is dead indeed :
Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it: Maintain a mourning ostentation ;
I protest, I love thee. And on your family's old monument
Beat. Why then, God forgive me ! Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
Bene. What offence, sweet Beatrice? That appertain unto a burial.
Beat. You have staid me in a happy hour; I was Leon. What shall become of this ? What will about to protest I loved you. this do ?
| Bene. And do it with all thy heart. Friar. Marry, this, well carried, shall on her Beat. I love you with so much of my heart, that behalf
none is left to protest. Change slander to remorse; that is some good : Bene, Come, bid me do any thing for thee. But not for that, dream I on this strange course,
Beat. Kill Claudio. But on this travail look for greater birth.
Bene. Ha ! not for the wide world. She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
Beat. You kill me to deny it: Farewell. Upon the instant that she was accus'd,
Bene, Tarry, sweet Beatrice. Shall be lamented, pitied, and excus'd,
Beat. I am gone, though I am here; -There is Of every hearer : For it so falls out,
no love in you :-Nay, I pray you, let me go. That what we have we prize not to the worth,
Bene. We'll be friends first,
Beat. Is he not approved in the height a vil. Into his study of imagination;
lain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my And every lovely organ of her life
kinswoman?_0, that I were a man !What! Shall come appareli'd in more precious habit, bear her in hand until they come to take hands; More moving-delicate, and full of life,
and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, Into the eye and prospect of his soul,
unmitigated rancour,-0 God, that I were a man! Than when she liv'd indeed :-then shall he mourn, I would eat his heart in the market-place. (If ever love had interest in his liver)
Bene. Hear me, Beatrice ;And wish he had not so accused her ;
Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ?-a No, though he thought his accusation true.
proper saying. Let this be so, and doubt not but success
Bene. Nay but, Beatrice ;-Will fashion the event in better shape
Beat. Sweet Hero !-she is wronged, she is slanThan I can lay it down in likelihood.
dered, she is undone. But if all aim but this be leveli'd false,
Bene. BeatThe supposition of the lady's death
Beat. Princes, and counties ! Surely, a princely Will quench the wonder of her infamy:
testimony, a goodly count-confect; a sweet gallant, And, if it sort not well, you may conceal her surely ! 0 that I were a man for his sake! or that I (As best befits her wounded reputation,)
had any friend would be a man for my sake! But In some reclusive and religious life,
manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into comOut of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries. pliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and
Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you: trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, And though, you know, my inwardness and love that only tells a lie, and swears it :-I cannot be a Is very much unto the prince and Claudio,
man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman Yet, by mine honour I will deal in this
with grieving. As secretly, and justly as your soul
Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice: By this hand, I Should with your body.
love thee. Leon.
Being that I flow in grief, Beat. Use it for my love some other way than The smallest twine may lead me.
swearing by it. Friar. "Tis well consented; presently away; Bene. Think you in your soul the count Claudio For to strange sores strangely they strain the hath wronged Hero? cure,
1 Beat. Yea, as sure as I have a thought, or a soul. Come, lady, die to live: this wedding day,
Bene. Enough, I am engaged, I will challenge Perhaps, is but prolong'd; have patience, and him; I will kiss your hand, and so leave you : By endure.
this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account: [Exeunt Friar, Hero, and Leonato. As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort