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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 niy revenge.

O, noble sir,
Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer; and dispose
For henceforth of

poor Claudio. Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming; To-night 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, Hir'd to it by your brother. * Bora.

No, by soul, she was not; Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me; But always hath been just and virtuous, In any thivg 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 punishmeut: 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 used so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend vothing 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 prisover, and I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself,

* Combined.

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for the example of others, God keep your worshipi 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-mor

row D. Pedro. We will not fail. Claud.

To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

[Eteunt Don Pedro and Claudio, Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd. fellow.


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Bene. If

in the pike

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Leonato's Garden.

Enter Benedick and Margaret, meeting.

good swi and a wh mongers, even road truly turn Marry, I can find 01 Thyme;

fo fool, a b No, I wa cannot w

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.

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

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

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

Sweet Be


* Ignorant.

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

Bene. A most maply wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers,

Marg. Give 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.

The god of love.

[Singing.) That sits above, And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve,

I mean, in singing; but in loving-Leander the good swimmer, Troğlus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpetmongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were vever 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 baby, an innocent 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.

Enter Beatrice.

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

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

• Holiday phrases.

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 unkissed.

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoese my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from hin, 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 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


Bene. Suffer lode; 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 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 amoug twenty that will praise him. self.

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 ese he dies, lie shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Bene. And bow long is that, think you?
Bene. Question?-Why, an hour in clamour, and

* Is subject to.

a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient for the wise (if Don Worm, his conscience, find no inipediment to the contrary), to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I ain to myself: So much for praising myself (who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy), and now tell me, How doth your cousin ?

Beat. Very ill.
Bene. And how do yon?
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 upcle; yonder's old coil* at home: it is proved my lady Hero hath been falsely accused, the prioce and Claudio mightily abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is filed 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.



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.]


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