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

Bene. A most manly 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.

[Erit 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, Troilus 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 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 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. Benc. 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.

Bcat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; there. fore 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 hini, 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 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 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 hini. 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 ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

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

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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 prais. ing 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 dee to thy uncle's.

(Ereunt.

SCENE III.

The inside of a church.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and attendants, with

music and taper8.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
Atten. It is, my lord.
Claud. (Reads from a scroll.]

# Stir.

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.

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:
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 gentle

day, Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about

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

way.

• Reward.

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

speed's, Thay this, for whom we render'd up this woe!

(Excunt.

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 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, come hither mask'd : The prince and Claudio promis'd by this lour To visit me:-You kuow your office, brother; You must be father to your brother's daughter, And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ludies.

Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance. Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. Friar. To do what, siguior?

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.

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