SCENE changes to Leonato's House.

Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret, Ursula, Antonio,

Friar, and Hero.
ID 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 fort so well,

Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Wel), 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 intreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, Signior ?

Bene. To bind ine, 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 fight 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
l'th' state of honourable marriage;
In which, good Friar, I shall defire your help.

Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Friar. And my help.

Enten

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio, with Attendants, i 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.
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 so all Europe shall rejoice at thee; As once Europa did it lufty 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. Enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and

Ursula, mask'd.
Claud. For this I owe you; here come other recknings.
Which is the lady I must seize upon ?

Ant. This fame 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.
Claud. Give me your liand; before this holy Friar,
your

husband if you like of me. Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife.

[Unmasking And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero ? (29)

Hero.

I am

(29) Claud. Anorber Hero ! Hero,

Notbing certainer :

One

your will

Hero. Nothing certainer.
One Hero dy'd defild, but I do live ;
And, surely, as I live, I am a maid.

Pedro. The former Hero! Hero, that is dead !
Leon. She dy'd, my lord, but whiles her flander liv'de

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify.
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell thee 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; what is
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 deceiv’d; 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,
Have been deceiv'd ; for they did swear, you did.

Bene. They swore, you were almost fick for me.
Beat. They swore, you were well-nigh dead for me.
Bene. 'Tis no matter; then you do not love me?
Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence.
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,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero. And here's another,
Writ in my Cousin's hand, foll'n from her pockets
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

One Hero dy'd; but I do live,

And surely as I live I am a moi.1.) Besides that the last line but one wants a whole foot in measure, it is as defective in the meaning: For how are the words made out? One Blero dy'd, and yet that Hero, lives, but how is the then another Hero ? The supplement, which I have restor’d from the old Quarte, foly:s all that difficulty, and makes the last line reafcoable.

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.

(30) Beat. I would yet deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great perfuafion, and partly to save your

life ; for as I was told, you were in a consumption. (31) Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.

[Kifing ber. Pedro. How doft thou, Benedick the married man:

Bene. I'll tell thee what, Prince; a College of wite trackers cannot flout me out of my humour; doft thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? no: if a man. will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handLome about him; in brief, fince I do purpose to marry,

(30) I would not deny you, but by this good day I yield upon great persuasion, &c.] Is r.ot this ftrange Mock-reasoning in Beatrice She would not deny him, but that she yields upon. great persuasion. By changing the Negative, I make no doubt but I have retriev'd the poet's humour.

(31) Leon. Peace, I will stop your mouth.] What can Leonato meat by this ? « Nay, pray, peace, Niece ; don't keep up this obftinacy " of professions, for I have proofs to top your mouth.” The ingea nious Dr. Tbiriby agreed with me, that this ought to be given to Bcnedick, who, upon saying it, kiffes Beatrice : add this being done before the whole company, how natural is the reply which the Prince makes upon it ?

How dofi thou, Benedick, the married man. Besides, this mode of speech, preparatory to a falute, is familiar to our Poet in common with other stage-writers. So before, in this Play, Beatrice says to Hero ;

Speak, Coufin ; or (if you cannot, J ftop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither. So, again, in Troilus and Crifida, where she fears that she is saying too fond things: Cress.

Stop my mouth. Troil. And shall, albeit sweet muGick issues thence. [Killes kori So, in Beaumont and Fletcber's Scornful Lady ;

Widow. Sir, you speak like a worthy brother. And so much I do credit your fair language, that I fhall love your brother; and to love him, but I shall blush to say more.

Eld Loui. Stop her mouth. [To his brother, who kisses ber. And Webser in his Dutchess of Malfy. Durch.

I'll stop your mouth. (Killing bimai Anio. Nay, that's but one : Venus had two soft Doves To draw her Chariot :-) must have another. [Kising ber.

I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never fout at me, for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclufion; for thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruis’d, and love my cousin.

Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgell'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my Cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends ; let's have a Dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

Bene. First, o' my word ; therefore, play musick. Prince, thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife ; there is no staff more reverend than one tipt with horn.

Enter Messenger. Mel. My Lord, your brother John is ta’en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Melina.

Bene. Think not on him 'till to-morrow : I'll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, Pipers.

[Dance. (Exeunt omnes.

THE