me.

Leon. Art thou the slave, that' with thy breath

hast kill'd

Mine innocent child?

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself; Here stand a pair of honourable men,

A third is fled that had a hand in it :-
I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death;
Record it with your high and worthy deeds;
Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.
Claud. I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I 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. Pedro. By my soul, nor I;

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; but I pray you both,
Possess the people in Messina here

How innocent she died: and, 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;

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

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. [Exeunt.

SCENE II-LEONATO's Garden.

Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting. Bene. Pray 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 beauty?

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

thou deservest it.

The god of love.

That sits above,

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve,

[Singing.]

And so dies my revenge.

Cland. O, noble Sir,

Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me! 1 do embrace your offer; and dispose

For henceforth of poor Claudio.

Lon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming; Tonight I take my leave.-This naughty man Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, Who I believe, was pack'd in all this wrong, Hired to it by your brother.

Bera. 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 remember'd in his punishment: and also the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name; the which he hath sed so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake: pray 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 I 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 inay be wish'd, God prohibit -Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, and Watch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to

morrow.

D. Pedro. We will not fail.
Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.
[Exeunt D. Pedro and Claudio.
Acquaint.

⚫ Command.

cent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyme; for school, fool, a babbling rhyme; very ominous endings: no, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms t.

Enter BEATRICE.

Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I call'd thee?

Beat. Yea, signior, 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 pass'd 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 unkiss'd.

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: but, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them altogether: which maintain'd so politic 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 suffer 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 hates. yours; for I will never love that which my friend

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 do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

* Ignorant. + Holiday phrases. Is subject to.

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.

Urs. 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 will go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Inside of a Church. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and Attendants, with music 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 nveer dies :
So the life, that died with shame.
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb.-
Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

SONG.

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:

To visit me :-You know your office, brother;
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladid
Ant. Which I will do with conflrni'd countenanct
Benc. 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.
Leon. That eye my daughter lent her; Tis me

true.

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her, Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had fra me,

[will

From Claudio, and the prince; But what's you
Bene. Your answer, Sir, is enigmatical:
But, for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand 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 Attendant D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Clas dio;

We here attend you: Are you yet determined To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the fria ready. [Exit Antoni D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what

the matter,

Graves, yawn, and yield your dead, Till death be uttered,

SCENE IV-A Room in LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, URSULA, FRIAR, and HERO.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accused
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 enforced 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, come hither mask'd: The prince and Claudio promised by this hour

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

hand

Before this friar, and swear to marry her.

Cloud. 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 loved, you were my other husband
Claud. Another Hero?
Hero. Nothing certainer :
One Hero died defiled; but I do live,
And surely as I live, I am a maid.

D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slande lived.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll 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.-Which is Beatrice! Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmasking.] Wha is your will?

Bene. Do not you love me?
Beat. No, no more than reason.

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

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 deceived; for they did swear, you did. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh deat

for me.

Bene. 'Tis no such matter:-Then, you do nolove me?

Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence. Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves her;

For here's a paper, witten in his hand,

A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Here. And here's another,

Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle! here' our own hands against pur hearts!-Come, I wilave thee; but, by this ight, 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 conJumption.

Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.——— [Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married an!

Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit erackers cannot flont me out of my humour: Dost hou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear Bothing handsome about him: in brief, since I do propose to marry, I will think nothing to any pur Jose that the world can say against it; and there

fore never flout at me for what I have 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 cudgell'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer! which, out of questiou, 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.

Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, music. Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipp'd with horn.