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Marg. A maid, and stuff'd! there's goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profess'd apprehension ?

Marg. Ever since you left it; doth not my wit beş come me rarely?

Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am fick.

Marg. Get you fome of this distill?d Carduus Bene- . dictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prick’t her with a thitle.

Beat, Benedictus? why Benedictus ? you have some moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy-thistle. You


think, perchance, that I think you are in love; nay, birlady, I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift; nor I lift not to think what I can; nor indeed I cannot think, if I would think my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man.

He fwore he would never marry; and yet now, in despight of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging: and how you may be converted, I know not; but methinks you look with your eyes as Other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Marg. Not a false gallop.

Enter Ursula.
Urf. Madam, withdraw; the Prince, the Count,
Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of
the town, are come to fetch you to church.

Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula,

[Exeant, SCENE VIII. Another apartment in Leorato's house.

Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges, Leon. What would you with me, honest neighbour ?

Dogb. Marry, Sir, I would have some confidence with you, that decerns you nearly,


Leon. Brief, I pray you; for, you fee, 'tis a busy time with me.

Dogb. Marry, this it is, Sir.
Verg. Yes, in truth it is, Sir,
Leon. What is it, my good friends ?

Dogb. Goodman Verges, Sir, speaks a little of the matter ; an old man, Sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would defire they were ; but, in faith, as honeft as the fkin between his brows.

Verg: « Yes, I thank God, I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honefter than

" I.”

Dogb. Comparisons are odorous; palabras, neighbour Verges.

Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious.

Dogb. It pleases your Worship to say so, but we are the poor

Duke's officers; but truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your Worship.

Leon. All thy tediousness on me, ha?

Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your Worship as of any man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.

Verg. And so am I.
Leon. I would fain know what you have to say.

Verg. Marry, Sir, our watch to-night, excepting your Worship’s presence, hath ta’en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in Messina.

Dogb. “A good old man, Sir; he will be talking, as they say ; when the age is in, the wit is out; God help us, it is a world to see : well faid, i' faith, neighbour Verges, well, he's a good man; an two

ride an horse, one must ride behind; an honest • soul, i' faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke c. bread ; but God is to be worshipp’d; all men are s not alike, alas, good neighbour !”

Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of your
Dogb. Gifts, that God gives.
Leon. I must leave you.

Dogb. One word, Sir ; our watch have, indeed, comprehended two auspicious persons; and we would

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have them this morning examin'd before your Worship.

Leon. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me ;

I am now in great haste, as may appear unto you. Dogb. It shall be suffigance. Leon. Drink some wine ere you go : fare


well. Enter a messenger. Mel. My Lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready. [Ex. Leon.

Dogb. Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacoale, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail ; we are now to examine those men.

Verg. And we must do it wisely.

Dogb.We will spare for no wit, I warrant; here's có that shall drive some of them to a non-come.” Only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail.

[Exeunt. ACTIV. SCENE I.

A Church. Enter Don Pedro, Don Joho, Leonato, Friar, Claudio,

Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice. Leon. Ome, Friar Francis, be brief, only to the

plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.

Friar. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this lady?

Claud. No:

I.eon. To be marry'd to her, Friar; you come to marry her.

Friar. Lady, you come hither to be marry'd to this Count?

Hero. I do. s Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoin’d, I charge you on your souls to itter it.

Claud. Know you any, Hero?
Hero. None, my Lord.
Friar. Know you any, Count?


Leon. I dare make his answer, None.

Claud. ( what men dare da! 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 !

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?

Þedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.

Claud. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulThere, Leonato, take her back again; (nefs : Give not this rotten orange to your friend. She's but the sign and semblance of her honour ; Behold, how like a maid she blushes here! O, what authority and shew of truth Can cunning fin cover itself withal ! Comes not that blood, as modeft evidence, To witness simple virtue ? would you not swear, All you that fee her, that she were a maid, By these exterior shews ? But she is none : She knows the heat of a luxurious bed ; Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty,

Leon. What do you mean, my Lord ?

Claud. Not to be marry'd,
Nor knit my foul to an approved wanton.

Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof
Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginity
Claud. I know what you would say: if I have

known her,
You'll say the did embrace me as a husbanda.
And so extenuate the forehand fin.
No, Leonato,
I never tempted her with word too large ;
But, as a brother to his sister, Thew'd
Bafhful sincerity, and comely love.

Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
Claud. Qut on thy seeming! I will rate against it ;

You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown :
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in savage sensuality.

Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth speak so wide ?
Leon. Sweet Prince, why speak not you ?

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?
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 daughAnd, by that fatherly and kindly power

[ter, That you

have in her, bid her answer truly.
Leon, I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.

Hero, O God defend me, how am I beset !
What kind of-catechising call you this?

Claud. To make you answer truly to your name.

Hero, Is it not Hero? who can blot that name
With any just reproach?

Claud. Marry, that can Hero ;
Hero herself can blot out Hero's virtue.
What man was he talk'd with you yesternight
Out at your window betwixt twelve and one ?
Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.

Hero. Í talk'd with no man at that hour, my Lord,

Pedro. Why, then you are no maiden. Leonato, I am sorry, you must hear; upon mine honour, Myself, my brother, and this grieved Count Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night, Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window; Who hath indeed, like an illiberal villain, Confess’d the vile encounters they have had A thousand times in secret.

Jahn. Fie, fie, they are not to be nam'd, my Lord,

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