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 foul Give me this maid your daughter? Leon. As freely fon, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose worth May counterpoise this rich and precious gift ? Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again. There, Leonato, take her back again; Leon. What do you mean, my Lord? Nct knit my foul to an approved Wanton. Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof (16) Have vanquish'a the resistance of her youth, And made defeat of her virginity [her, Claud. I know what you would say: if I have known (16) Dear my Lord, if you in your own Proof,] I am furpriz'd, the poetical editors did not obferve the lameness of this verse. It evidently wants a fyllable in the last foot, which I have restor'd by a word, which, I presume, the first editors might hefitate at; tho' it is a very proper one, and a word elsewhere used by our author. Anth. and Cleop. Sifter, prove such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and my farthest bond Besides, in the passage under examination, this word comes in almost necessarily, as Claudio had faid in the line immediately preceding; Not knit my foul to an approved wanton. C4 You'll You'll fay, she did embrace me as a husband, No, Leonato, I never tempted her with word too large; Bashful fincerity, and comely love. Hero. And feem'd I ever otherwise to you! Claud. Out on thy Seeming! I will write againft 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 Leon. Are these things spoken, or do I but dream ? Claud. Leonato, stand I here? Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's Brother? Leon. All this is so; but what of this, my lord? 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. With any just reproach? Claud. Marry, that can Hero; : Hero. Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my Lord. Pedro. Why, then you are no maiden. Leonato, I am forry, you must hear; upon mine Honour, Myself, my Brother, and this grieved Count Did fee her, hear her, at that hour last night Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window; Who hath, indeed, most like a liberal villain, Confefs'd the vile encounters they have had A thousand times in secret. John. Fie, fie, they are not to be nam'd, my Lord, Not to be spoken of; There is not chastity enough in language, Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou been, Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? Smother her spirits up. [Exe. D. Pedro, D. John and Claud. 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 wifi'd for. Beat. How now, cousin Hero ? Friar. Have comfort, Lady. Leon. Doft thou look up? Friar. Yea, wherefore should the 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 ? ! Do not live, Hero, do not ope thine eyes : Bene. Sir, Sir, be patient; Beat. O, on my soul, my coufin is bely'd. Leon. Confirm'd; confirm'd! O, that is stronger made, Friar. Hear me a little, For I have only been filent so long, By noting of the lady. I have mark'd A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face: a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness bear away those blushes; And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, To To burn the errors that these Princes hold If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here, Under some biting error. Leon. Friar, it cannot be; Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of? If I know more of any man alive, Than that which maiden modefty doth warrant, Friar. There is some strange misprifion in the Princes. And if their wisdoms be misled in this, Leon. I know not: if they speak but truth of her, Nor fortune made such havock of my means, |