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Dogb. God save the foundation!

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your worship; I wish your worship well; God restore you to health : I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be with’d, God prohibit it.-Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt DogBERRY, VERGES, and Watch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to-morrow. D. Pedro. We will not fail. Claud.

To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

[Exeunt D. PEDRO and CLAUDIO. Leon. Bring you these fellows on ; we'll talk with Mar.

garet, How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.



LEONATO's Garden.

Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting.

Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou deserveit it.

Marg. To have no man come over me? why, shall I always keep below stairs ?


Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches.

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

Bene, A moit 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.

[Exit MARGARET. Bene. And therefore will come. The god of love,

[Singing.) That fits above, And knows me, and knows me,

Hozu pitiful I deserve, I mean, in singing ; but in loving, Leander the good swiinmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly turn'd over and over as my poor self, in love: Marry, I cannot how it in rhyme; I have try'd; I can find out no rhyme to lady but baby, an innocent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyne ; 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, fignior, and depart when you bid me.

Bene, ܪ

Bene. O, stay but till then!

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.

Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkiss'd.

Bene. Thou haft frighted the word out of his right fense, fo forcible is thy wit : But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge ; and either I must shortly hear from him, 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 maintain'd fo 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 fake, 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 confellion : there's not one wise man among twenty, that will praise himself.

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.

Beat. And how long is that, think

Bene. Question ?--Why, an hour in clamour, and 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 praising 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 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. Urf. 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 thee to thy uncle's.



The Inside of a Church,
Enter Don Pedro, CLAUDIO, and Attendants with musick

and tapers.
Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato ?
Atten. It is, my lord.
Claud. [Reads from a fcroll.]

Done to death by Nanderous tongue's

Was the Hero that bere lies:
Death, in guerdon of ber wrongs,
Gives ber fame which never dies :



So the life, that died with fbame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb, Caffixing it.

Praising her when I am dumb.
Now, mufick, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that few thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.

Midnight, asist our moan;
Help us to high and groan,

Heavily, beavily:
Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,

Heavily, beavily.
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 grey: 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 iffue fpeed's, Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! [Exeunt.


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