Claud. [Reads from a scroll.]

Done to death 1 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, musick, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

SONG.
Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight 3 ;
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.

i This phrase occurs frequently in writers of Shakspeare's time, it appears to be derived from the French phrase, faire mourir. See note on K. Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 1.

2 Reward.

3 Diana's knight, or virgin knight, was the common poetical appellation of virgins in Shakspeare's time. So in The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634.

O sacred, shadowy, cold, and constant queen,

who to thy female knights,' &c. 'till death be spoken of.'

4 i. e.

D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters ; put your

torches out: The wolves have prey’d; and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, 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. 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 renderd

up
this woe!

[Ereunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in Leonato's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEA

TRICE, 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 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

true. Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.

Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from me, From Claudio, and the prince : But what's your

will ?
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 Attendants.

D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly.
Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow,

Claudio.
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, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold, And all Europa shall rejoice at thee; As once Europa did at lusty 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's cow, 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 masked. Claud. For this I owe you: here comes 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.

I am your

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;

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 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

lived.

Still alluding to the passage quoted from Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy, in the first scene of the play.

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.

Why, 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.

Troth, no, no more than reason. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.

Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for

me.

Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead

for me.

Bene. 'Tis no such matter :-Then, you do not

love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gen

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

her;

For here's a paper, written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.
Hero.

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

Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against