Imágenes de páginas

vonr cousin: I must say, she is dead; and so, farewell. [Exeunt.

SCENE II—A Prison. Eater Dogberry, Verges, and Sexton, in gorvns; and the Watch, mith Conrade and Borachio. Dogb. Is our whole dissembly appeared? Vtrg, 0, a stool and a cushion for the sexton! Sexton. Which be the malefactors? Dogb. Marry, that am I and my partner. Vtrg. Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition to examine.

Salon. But which are the offenders that are to be examined ? let them come before master constable.

Dogb. Vea, marry, let them come before me

What is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

Dogb. Pray write down—Borachio. Yours,


Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.

Dogb. Write down—master gentleman Conrade. —Masters, do you serve God?

Con. Bora. Yea, sir, we hope.

Dogb. Write down—that they hope they serve God:—and write God first; for God defend but God should go before such villains!—Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer you for yourselves?

Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none.

Dogb. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you;

hit I will go about with him Come you hither,

lirrah; a word in your ear, sir; I say to you, it is thought you are false knaves.

Born. Sir, I say to you, we are none.

Dogb. Well, stand aside.—Fore God, they are both in a tale: Have you writ down—that they are none?

Sexton. Master constable, you go not the way to "amine; you must call forth the watch that "are their accusers.

. Yea, marry, that's the eftest way :—Let the come forth :—Masters, I charge you, in the prince's name, accuse these men.

1 Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's brother, was a villain.

Dogb. Write down—prince John a villain :—Why jhU is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother—vil

B°ra. Master constable,—

Dogb. Pray thee, fellow, peace; I do not like thy look, I promise thee.

Sufon. What heard you him say else?

! Watch. Marry, that he had received a thousand Qoeats of Don John, for accusing the lady Hero wrongfully.

Dogb. Plat burglary, as ever was committed.
ferg. Yea, by the mass, that it is.
Sexton. What else, fellow?

1 Watch. And that count Claudio did mean, upon Jui words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her.

Dogb. 0 villain! thou wilt be condemned Into "erlastinp redemption for this.

Sexton. What else?

8 Watch. This is all.

Sexton. And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is this morning secretly stolen **a<r; Hero was in this manner accused, in this very wanner refused, and upon the grief of this, suddenly died—Master constable, let these men be bound', and brought to Leonato's; I will go before, and Mow him their examination. [Exit.

Dogb. Come, let them be opinloned.

Vtrg. Let them be in band.

Con. Off, coxcomb!

Dogb. God's my life! where's the sexton? let

nim write down—the prince's officer, coxcomb

wme, bind them: Thou naughty varlet!

Cos. Away ! you are an ass, you are an ass.

Dogb. Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my years ?—O that he were here to write me down—an ass! but, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass:—No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness. I am a wise fellow; and,which is more, an officer; and, which is more, a housholder; and, which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh 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 losses; and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handsome about him :—Bring hira away. O, that I had been writ down—an ass!



SCENE I.—Bejbre Leonato's House.
Enter Leon at o and Antonio.

Ant. If you go on thus, you will kill yourself;
And 'tis not wisdom, thus to second grief
Against yourself.

I^on. I pray thee, cease thy counsel,

Which fails into mine ears as profitless
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 over whelm'd like mine,
And bid hira 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:
Cry— sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should

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 raga.
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ach with air, and agony with words:
No, no j '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, [differ.

Ant. Therein do men from children nothing

Leon. I pray thee, peace; I will be flesh and For there was never yet philosopher, [blood; That could endure the tooth-ach patiently; However they have writ the style of gods, And made a pish at chance anil 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 My soul doth tell me, Hero is belied; [so:

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.
D. Pedro. Good den, good den.
Claud. Good day to both of yon.

Leon. Hear you, my lords,—
D. Pedro. We have some haste, Leonato.

Leon. Some haste, my lord!—well, fare you well, my lord:—

Are you so hasty now ?—well, all is one. [man.
JO. Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old
Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling,

Some of us would lie low.
Claud. Who wrongs hira?


Leon. Marry, Thou, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou :—

Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword, 1 fear thee not.

Claud. Marry, beshrew my hand,

If it should give your age such cause of fear:
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.

Leon. Tush, tush, man, never fleer and jest at
I speak not like a dotard, nor a fool; [me;
As, under privilege of age, to brag
What I have done being young, or what would do,
Were 1 not old; Know, Claudio, to thy head.
Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me,
That I am forc'd 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

And she lyes buried with her ancestors:
O! in a tomb where never scandal slept,
Save this of her's, frara'd by thy villainy.
Claud. My villainy!
Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine I say.

D. Pedro. You say not right, old man-
Leon. My lord, my lord;
I'll prove it on his body, if he dare;
Despite his nice fence, and his active practice,
His May of youth, and bloom of lusty hood.
Claud. Away, I will not have to do with you.
Leon. Canst thou so dafT me? Thou hast kill'd
my child;

If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.

Ant. He shall kill two of us, and men indeed; But that's no matter; let him kill one first j— Win me and wear me,—let him answer me,— Come follow me, boy; come, boy, follow me: Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foioing fence; Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother,—

Ant. Content yourself; God knows, I lov d my niece;

And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains;
That dare as well answer a man, indeed.
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue:
Boys, apes, biaggarts, Jacks, milksops !—

Leon. — Brother Antony,.

Ant. Hoft you content: What, man I I know them, yea.

And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple
Scambllng, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys.
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander,
Go antickly, and show outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.

Leon. But, brother Antony,—

Ant. Come, 'tis no matter;

Do not meddle, let me deal in this.

D. Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience. My heart is sorry for your daughter's death; But, on my honour, she was charg'd with nothing But what was true, and very full of proof.

Leon. My lord, my lord,—

n. Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No?

Brother, away ;—I will be heard;—

Ant. And shall,

Or some of us will smart for it.

[Exeunt Leonato and Antonio.

Enter Benedick. D. Pedro. See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

Claud. Now, signlor! what news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

D. Pedro. Welcome, signlor: You are almost come to part almost a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two noses snapped oh0 with two old men without teeth.

D. Pedro, Leonato and his brother : What think'st thou? Had we fought, 1 doubt, we should have been too young for them.

Bene. In a false quarrel there is no true valour: I came to seek you both.

Claud. Wc have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away: Wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene. It Is in my scabbard; Shall I draw it?

D. Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?

Claud. Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit.—1 will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

D. Pedro. As I am an honest man, he looks pale :—Art thou sick, or angry?

Claud. What! courage, man! What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an you charge It against me :—I pray you chouse another subject.

Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last was broke cross.

D. Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more; 1 think, he be angry indeed.

Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.

Bene. Shall I speak a word In your ear?

Claud, (iod btess me from a challenge!

Bene. You are a villain ;—1 jest not—I will make it good how you dare, with what you dart1, and when you dare:—Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you: Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may ha»e good cheer.

D. Pedro. What, a feast? a feast?

Claud. 1'faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's head and a capon, the which if 1 do not carve most curiously, say, my knife's naught—Shall i not find a woodcock too?

Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.

D. Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the other day: I said, thou hadst a fine wit; True, says she, ajlne little one: No, said I, a great wit; Right, says she, a great gross one: Nay, said I, a good rvit j Just, said she, it hurts no body s Nay, said I, Me gentleman it wise; Certain, said she, a wise gentleman: Nay, said I, he hath the tongue*: That I believe, said she, for he more a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue ; there's two tongues. Thus did she, an hour together, transshape thy particular virtues; yet, at last, she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the propcrest man in Italy.

Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and said, she cared not.

D. Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if she did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly: the old man's daughter told ui all.

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God tatv htm when he mas hid in the garden.

D. Pedro. But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on the sensible Benedick's head?

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Benedick the married man?

Bene. Fare you well, boy! you know my mind; I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not—My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you: I must discontinue our company; your brother, the bastard, is fled from Messina: you have, among you, killed a sweet and innocent lady: For my lord Lack-beard, there, he and I shall meet; and till then, peace be with him. IBxit Benedick.

D. Pedro. He is In earnest.

Claud. In most profound earnest; and I'll war* rant you, for the love of Beatrice. D. Pedro. And hath challenged thee? Claud. Most sincerely.

D. Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hose, anil leaves oh' his wit'

Enter Dogberry, Verges, and the Watch, with
Conrade and Borachio.

Claud. He is then a giant to an ape: but then is an ape a doctor to such a man.

D. Pedro. But, soft you, let be; pluck up, my heart, and be sad! Did he not say, my brother was Bed?

Dogb. Come, you, air; if justice cannot tame you, the shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay, an you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to.

D. Pedro. How now, two of my brother's men bonnd! Borachio, one!

Claud. Hearken after their offence, my lord!

D. Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done?

Dogb. Marry, sir, they have committed false report j moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders { sixth and lastly, they have belled a lady j thirdly, they have verified nnjust things: and, to conclude, they are lying

D. Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence ; sixth am lastly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what yon lay to their charge?

Claud. Rightly reasoned, and In his own division; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited.

D. Pedro. Whom have you offended, masters, that you axe thus bound to your answer? this learned constable is too cunning to be understood: What's your offence?

Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceived even your very eyes: what jour wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who, In the night, overheard me confessing to this man, how Don John your brother incensed me to slander the lady Hero; how yon were brought into the orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you di: graced her, when you should marry her : my vi lainy they have upon record; which I had rather seal with my death, than repeat over to my shame the lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain.

D. Pedro. Runs not this speech like Iron through your blood?

Claud. I have drunk poison, whiles he uttered it. D. Pedro. But did my brother set thee on to this? Bora. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it. D. Pedro. He Is compos'd and fram'd of treachery :— And fled he is upon this villainy.

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy Image doth appear In the rare semblance that I loved it first.

Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by thi time onr SeTton hath reformed slgnior Leonato of the matter: And masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.

Verg. Here, here comes master signlor Leonato, and the Sexton too.

Re-enter Leonato and Antonio, with the Sexton.

Leon. Which Is the villain? Let me see his eyes; That when I note another man like him, I may avoid him Which of these is he? [me. Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on Leon. Art thou the slave, that with thy breath Mine Innocent child? [hast kill'd

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not so, villain; thou bely'st thyself; Here stand a pair of honourable men, A third is fled, that had a hand In It s— 1 thank you, princes, for my daughter's death; It with your high and worthy deeds; mvely done. If you bethink you of it.

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Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, Yet 1 must speak: Choose your revenge yourself; Impose me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn'd I not, But In mistaking.

D. Pedru. By my soul, nor I j

And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight
That he'll enjoin me to.

Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live,
That were impossible i but I pray you both,
Possess the people in Messina here
How innocent she died: anrl, if your love
Can labour aught in sad invention.
Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,
And sing it to her bones; sing it to-night :—
To-morrow morning come you to my house;
And since you could not be my son-in-law.
Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
And she alone is heir to both of us;
Give her the right you should have given her cousin,
And so dies my revenge.

Claud,' O, noble sir,

Your over kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer ; and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio. [ing;

Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your com

To-night I take my leave This naughty man

shall face to face be brought to Margaret, Who, 1 believe, was pack'd In all this wrong, Hir'd to it by your brother.

Bora. No, by my soul, she was not;

Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me;
But always hath been just and virtuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.

Dogb. Moreover, sir, (which, indeed, is not under white and black,) this plaintiff here, the

offender, did call me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment: And also, the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say,

lie wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name; the which he hath used so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake: Tray you, examine him upon that point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains. Dogb. God save the foundation! Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your worship; I wish your worship well; God restore you to health: I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it.—Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, and Watch.

Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.

Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to

D. Pedro. We will not fall. [morrow.

Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

[Exeunt Don Pedro and Claudio.

Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.


SCENE II—Leonato's Garden.
Enter Benedick and Margaret, meeting.

Bent. Fray thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beaut;?

Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou deservest It.

Marg. To have no man come over me? why, shall 1 always keep below stairs?

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches.

Marg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Dene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it wilt not] hurt a woman; and so, 1 pray thee, call Beatrice I give thee the bucklers.

Marg. (Jive us the swords, we have bucklers of our own.

Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons for maids.

Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think, hath legs. [Exit Margaret.

Bene. And therefore will come.

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I mean, in singing; but in loving.—Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full of these quondam car pet-mongers,whose names yet run smoothly In the even road of a blank terse, why, they were never so truly turned over and over as my poor self, in love: Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried; I can find out no rhyme to lady but an innocent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyme; for school, fool, a babbling rhyme; very ominous endings: No, I was not horn under a rhyming planet nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter Beatrice. Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee?

Beat. Yea, slgnlor, and depart when you bid me. Bene. O.stay but till then!

Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now:— and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.

Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.

Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkUsed.

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcihle is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, < laudio undergoes my challenge; and either 1 must shortly hear from him, or 1 will subscribe him a coward. And, 1 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 politick a state of evil, that they will not admit any 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 6UfFer 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 d< not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell tings, 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: there will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste. Enter Ursula.

Vrs. 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 wilt go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt. SCENE III The Inside of a Church.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, tvith musick 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

Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,

Gives her fame which never dies:
So the lift, that died with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb, [affixing it.
Praising her when I am dumb.
Now, musick, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight,
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.

Midnight, assist our moan;

Help us to sigh and groan,
Heavily, heavily:

Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,

Till death be uttered,
Heavily, heavily.

Claud. Now unto thy bones good night!

Yearly will 1 do this rite. D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches out: The wolves have prey'd: and look, the gentle day,

Before the wheels of Phcebus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray t Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way. [weeds;

D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on othct And then to Leonato's we will go.

Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue speeds,

Than this, for whom we render'd up this wos!


SCENE IV.—A Room in Leonato's House.

Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice,
Ursula, Friar, and Hero.

Friar. Did 1 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 enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all. Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; And, when I send for you, tome hither maak'd: The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour To visit me:—Vou know your office, brother; Von must be father to your brother's daughter, And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.

Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.

Bern. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.

Friar. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them.— Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.

Lton. That eye my daughter lent her; 'Tin most true.

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Lton, The sight whereof, I think, you had from

From Claudio, and the prince; But what's your
Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical: [will?
But, for mj will, my will is, your good will
May (land with ours, 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 Attendants. |
D. Pedro, flood morrow to this fair assembly.
Lton. Good morrow, prince; good morrow.

We here attend you : Are you yet determin'd
To-d»j to marry with my brother's daughter?

Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethione.

Lton. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar ready. [Exit Antonio.

D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's That you have such a February face, [the matter, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?

Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull:— Tuih, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold, And all Europa shall rejoice at thee; As once Europa did at lusty Jove, When he would play the noble beast In love.

Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low; And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow.. And got a calf in that same noble feat, Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.

Re-enter Antonio, rv'.ih the Ladies masked.

Claud. For this I owe you: here come other

reckonings. Which ii the lady I must seiie upon? A«t- This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me see

jour face.

t*on- No, that you shall not, till you take her hand

Before this friar, and swear to marry her.

Ctau.1. Give me your hand before this holy friar; I am your husband, if you like of me.

Hero. And when I lived, I was your other wife: [Unmasking.

And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. CLtud. Another Hero?

fffo. Nothing certainer:

(TMe Hero died defil'd; but I do live, And, surely as I live, I am a maid. 0. Ptdro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! She died my lord, but whiles her slander lived.

ii£n'ar' ,ms amazement can I qualify; When, after that the holy rite* are ended, 111 tell you largely of fair Hero's death:

Mean time, let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.

Bene. Soft and fair, friar—W hich Is Beatrice?

Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmasking.] What is your will?

Rene. Do not you love me?

Beat. No, no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and

Have been deceived; for they swore you did.
Beat Do not you love me?

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


-Then you do not

no such matter:love me?

Beat. No, truly, hut in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, cousin, 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 biain, 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


Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers 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 propose 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 h ve 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 dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels. Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. [sick.— Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play muPrince, thou art sad ; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

Enter a Messenger. Jiff**. My lord, your brother John ia ta'en in flight,

And brought with armed men back to Messina.

Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.—Strike up, pipers. [Dance.


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