Friar. You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady? Claud. No. Leon. To be married to her, friar; you come to marry her. Friar. Lady, you come hither to be married to this count? Hero. I do. Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, I charge you, on your souls, to utter it. Claud. Know you any, Hero? Friar. Know you any, count? Leon. I dare make his answer, none." Claud. O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do not knowing what they do! Bene. How now! Interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as, ha ha! he!7 Claud. Stand thee by, friar:-Father, by your leave; Will you with free and unconstrained soul Give me this maid, your daughter? Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose worth May counterpoise this rich and precious gift? D. Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again. Claud. Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.There, Leonato, take her back again; Give not this rotten orange to your friend; She's but the sign and semblance of her honour :--- To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear, [6] This is borrowed from our Marriage Ceremony, which (with a few slight changes in phraseology) is the same as was used in the time of Shakespeare. [7] This is a quotation from the Accidence JOHNSON DOUCE. [8] i. e. lascivious. Luxury is the confessor's term for unlawful pleasures of the sex. JOHNSON. Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty. Leon. What do you mean, my lord? Not knit my soul to an approved wanton. Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth, And made defeat of her virginity, Clau. I know what you would say; If I have known her, You'll say, she did embrace me as a husband, And so extenuate the 'forehand sin : No, Leonato, I never tempted her with word too large; Bashful sincerity, and comely love. Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you? Claud. Out on thy seeming! I will write against it: You seem to me as Dian in her orb; As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown ; 9 But you are more intemperate in your blood That rage in savage sensuality. Hero. Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide? D. Pedro. What should I speak? I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about To link my dear friend to a common stale. Leon. Are these things spoken? or do I but dream? D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. Bene. This looks not like a nuptial. Hero. True, O God! Claud. Leonato, stand I here? Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother? Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own? Leon. All this is so; But what of this, my lord? Claud. Let me but move one question to your daughter; And, by that fatherly and kindly power' That you have in her, bid her answer truly. Leon. I charge thee do so, as thou art my child. What kind of catechizing call you this? Claud. To make you answer truly to your name. [9] chaste as is the bud-] Before the air has tasted its sweetness. 9 VOL. III. JOHNS With any just reproach? Claud. Marry, that can Hero: Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue. What man was he talk'd with you yesternight Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord. D. John. Fye, fye! they are Not to be nam'd, my lord, not to be spoke of; Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou been, If half thy outward graces had been plac'd Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? down? D. John. Come, let us go: these things, come thus to light, Smother her spirits up. [Exeunt Don PEDRO, Don JOHN, and CLAUDIO. Bene. How doth the lady? Beat. Dead, I think;-help, uncle ; Hero! why, Hero!-Uncle !-Signior Benedick!-friar! Leon. O fate, take not away thy heavy hand! Death is the fairest cover for her shame That may be wish'd for. [2] Liberal here, as in many places of these plays, means frank beyond honesty, or decency. Free of tongue. JOHNSON. Beat. How now, cousin Hero? Leon. Dost thou look up ? Friar. Yea; Wherefore should she not? Leon. Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny The story that is printed in her blood ?3- Hath drops too few to wash her clean again; Bene. Sir, sir, be patient: For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, I know not what to say. Beat. O, on my soul, my cousin is belied! Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow. Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made, For I have only been silent so long, And given way unto this course of fortune, [3] That is, the story which her blushes discover to be trus. JOHNSON. By noting of the lady: I have mark'd If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here Leon. Friar, it cannot be : Thou seest, that all the grace that she hath left, A sin of perjury; she not denies it : Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse That which appears in proper nakedness? Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of?' Hero. They know, that do accuse me; I know none : If I know more of any man alive, Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, Maintain'd the change of words with any creature, Friar. There is some strange misprision in the princes Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour ; And if their wisdoms be misled in this, The practice of it lives in John the bastard, [4] The Friar had just before boasted his great skill in fishing out the truth. And, indeed, he appears by this question to be no fool. He was by, all the while at the accusation, and heard no names mentioned. Why then should he ask her what man she was accused of? But in this lay the subtilty of his examination. For, had Hero been guilty, it was probable that in that hurry and confusion of spirits, into which the terrible insult of her lover had thrown her, she would never have observed that the man's name was not mentioned; and so, on this question, have betrayed herself by naming the person she was conscious of an affair with. The Friar observed this, and so concluded, that, were she guilty, she would probably fall into the trap he had laid for her.-I only take notice of this to show how admi rably well Shakespeare knew how to sustain his characters. WARBURTON. [5] Bent is used by our author for the utmost degree of any passion, or mental quality. In this play before, Benedick says of Beatrice, her affection has its full Lent. The expression is drawn from archery; the bow has its bent when it is drawn as far as it can be. JOHNSON |