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Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

D. Pedro. What! a feast, a feast?

Claud. I' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's-head and a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?

Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily. D. Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit. 'True,' said she, 'a fine little one.'

'No,'

said I, 'a great wit.' 'Right,' says she, 'a great gross one. 'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit.' 'Just,' said she, 'it hurts nobody.' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman is wise.' 'Certain,' said she, 'a wise gentleman.' 'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the tongues.' That I believe,' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning: there's a double tongue; there's two tongues.' Thus did she, an hour together, trans-shape thy particular virtues; yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.

Claud. For the which she wept heartily and said she cared not.

D. Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if she did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly. The old man's daughter told us all.

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Claud. All, all; and moreover, God saw him when he was hid in the garden.

D. Pedro. But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on the sensible Benedick's head?

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, 'Here dwells Benedick the married man!'

Bene. Fare you well, boy: you know my mind. I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you: I must discontinue your company. Your brother the bastard is fled from Messina: you have, among you, killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet; and till then, peace be with him. Exit.

D. Pedro. He is in earnest. Claud. In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for the love of Beatrice. D. Pedro. And hath challenged thee? Claud. Most sincerely.

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D. Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay to their charge.

Claud. Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited.

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D. Pedro. Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned constable is too cunning to be under. stood. What's your offence?

Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer: do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who in the night overheard me confessing to this man how Don John your brother incensed me to slander the Lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you disgraced her, when you should marry her. My villany they have upon record; which I had rather seal with my death than repeat over to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain. D. Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through your blood? Claud. I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it. D. Pedro. But did my brother set thee on to this?

Bora. Yea; and paid me richly for the prac tice of it.

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D. Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery:

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And fled he is upon this villany. Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I lov'd it first. Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time our sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter. And, masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.

Verg. Here, here comes Master Signior Leonato, and the sexton too.

Re-enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, and the Serton. Leon. Whichis the villain? Let me see his eyes, That when I note another man like him, I may avoid him: which of these is he? Bora. If you would know your wronger, look

on me.

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Leon. Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd

Mine innocent child?
Bora.

Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself: Here stand a pair of honourable men; A third is fled, that had a hand in it. I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death: Record it with your high and worthy deeds. 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. Claud. I know not how to pray your patience;

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And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight
That he'll enjoin me to.

Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live;
That were impossible: but, I pray you both,
Possess the people in Messina here
How innocent she died; and, if your love
Can labour aught in sad invention,
Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,

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And sing it to her bones: sing it to-night.
To-morrow morning come you to my house,
And since you could not be my son-in-law,
Be yet my nephew. My brother hath a daughter,
Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
And she alone is heir to both of us :

Give her the right you should have given her cousin,

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But always hath been just and virtuous

In any thing that I do know by her.

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Dogb. Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say he wears a key in his ear and a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's name; the which he hath used so long and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake. Pray you, examine him upon that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.

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Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth, and I praise God for you. - Leon. There's for thy pains.

Dogb. God save the foundation!

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

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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 wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour.

Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.

Ant. Farewell, my lords: we look for you to

morrow.

To-night I'll mourn with Hero. Exeunt Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO.

Leon. To the Watch. Bring you these fellows on. We 'll talk with Margaret,

Howheracquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. Exeunt.

SCENE IL-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 deservest it.

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

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

Marg. And yours 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.

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Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.

Bene. And therefore will come.

The god of love, That sits above,

Exit MARGARET.

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve,

a

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I mean in singing; but in loving, Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and whole bookful of these quonda quondam carpet-mongers, 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 rime; I have tried: I can find out no rime to 'lady but baby,' an innocent rime; for 'scorn,' 'horn,' a hard rime; for 'school,' 'fool,' a babbling rime; very ominous endings. No, I was not born under a riming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

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Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet. I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

SONG.

LACT V.

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.

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Beat. In spite of your heart, I think. Alas! poor heart. If you spite it for my sake, I will D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters: put your

spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

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Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession: 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 you ?

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Bene. Question : why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in rheum: therefore is it 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 praiseworthy. And now tell me, how doth your cousin ?

Beat. Very ill.
Bene. And how do you ?
Beat. Very ill too.

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There

Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend. will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.

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SCENE III.--The Inside of a Church. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and Attendants, with music and tapers.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
A Lord. It is, my lord.

Claud.

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SCENE IV.A Room in LEONATO'S House.

Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEA TRICE, MARGARET, URSULA, Friar FRANCIS, and HERO.

Fri. 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,
In the true course of all the question.
Although against her will, as it appears

Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomenall,
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
And when I send for you, come hither mask'd :
To visit me.

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nance.

Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
Fri. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me; one of them.

Reads from a scroll. Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,

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From Claudio, and the prince. But what's your
Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:

Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. But, for my will, my will is your good will

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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 Ethiop.
Leon. Call her forth, brother: here's the friar
ready.
Exit ANTONIO.

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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 gentleman.

Claud. And I'll be sworn upon 't that he loves her;

For here's a paper written in his hand,

D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,

what's the matter,

That you have such a February face,

So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

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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;

Fashion'd to Beatrice.
Hero.

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Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good

And some such strange bull leap'd your father's day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to

save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.

Cow,

And got a calf in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.

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Bene. Peace! I will stop your mouth.

Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked.

Claud. For this I owe you here come 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.

Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand

Before this friar, and swear to marry her.

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Kisses her.

D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it, for man is a giddy

Claud. Give me your hand: before this holy thing, and this is my conclusion. For thy part,
friar,
I am your husband, if you like of me.
Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife:
Unmasking. 60

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Bene. Do not you love me?
Beat. Why, no; no more than reason.
Bene. Why then, your uncle and the prince devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike

and Claudio

Have been deceiv'd; they swore you did.

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King. Let fame; that all hunt after in their As, not to see a woman in that term,

Berowne. I can but say their protestation over; So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, That is, to live and study here three years. But there are other strict observances;

lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,

The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen

edge,

Which I hope well is not enrolled there :
And one day in a week to touch no food,
And but one meal on every day beside;
The which I hope is not enrolled there:
And then, to sleep but three hours in the night
And not be seen to wink of all the day,
When I was wont to think no harm all night
And make a dark night too of half the day,
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
O! these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,

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And make us heirs of all eternity.
Therefore, brave conquerors, for so you are,
That war against your own affections
And the huge army of the world's desires,
Our late edict shall strongly stand in force :
Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
Our court shall be a little academe,

Still and contemplative in living art.

10 Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.

You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longaville, Have sworn for three years' term to live with me, My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes That are recorded in this schedule here:

Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your

names,

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That his own hand may strike his honour down
That violates the smallest branch herein.
If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.

Long. I am resolv'd; 'tis but a three years'

King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.

Berowne. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please.

I only swore to study with your grace,
And stay here in your court for three years' space.
Long. You swore to that, Berowne, and to the

rest.

Berowne. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know which else we should not know.

Berowne. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense?

fast:

The mind shall banquet, though the body pine: Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. Dum. My loving lord, Dumaine is mortified: The grosser manner of these world's delights He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves:

King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. Berowne. Come on then; I will swear to study

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