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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 no: in this confession: there's not one wise inan 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.

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 praiseworthy,) and now tell me, How doth

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 coill 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

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.


your cousin ?

gone: will

(1) Stir.

SCENÈ 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 stroll.]
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 life, 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, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of wo,
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 I do this rite.
D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters ; put your

torches out:
The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gen-

tle day,
Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray:

(1) Reward.

Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare you well.
Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several

D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other

weeds : 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 wo!

[Exeunt. SCENE IV.- A room in Leonato's house. En.

ter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Ur-
sula, Friar, and Hero.
Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd

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 1, 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, come hither mask'd :
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To visit me :--You know your office, brother;
You 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.
Bene. 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 most
Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite har.

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Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from

me, From Claudio, and the prince; But what's your

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.

And my help
Here comes the prince, and Claudio.
Enter Don Pedro and Claudio, with attendants.
D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly.
Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow,

We here attend you ; are you yet determin'd
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 friar ready.

[Exit Antonio D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's

the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness ? Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull: Tush, fear not, inan, we'll tip thy horns with gold, And all Europa shall rejoice at thee; As once Europa did at susty 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':

And got a calf in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.

Re-enter Antonio, with the Ladies mask'd. Claud. For this I owe you : here come other reckonings.

Which is the lady I must seize upon?

Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine : Sweet, let me see your

face. Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand Before this friar, and swear to marry her.

Claud. 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 ?

Nothing certainer :
One Hero died defil'd; 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 slander

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.)

What 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?

No, no more than reason.
Beat. Why then, my cousin, Margaret, and

Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.

Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for
Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead


for me.

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