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.

D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches

out:

The wolves have prey'd: and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray: 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 issue speeds, Than this, for whom we rendered up this woe! [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A Room in Leonato's House.

Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE,
URSULA, Friar, and HERO.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accused

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

Leon. Well, 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 entreat your pains, I think. Friar. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, 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 sight 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
In the estate of honourable marriage;

In which, good friar, I shall desire
your help.
Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Friar.

Here comes the prince, and Claudio.

And my help.

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 determined 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.

[Erit ANTONIO.

D. 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 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; 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.

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.

Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar;

I am 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?

Hero.

Nothing certainer :

One Hero died defil'd; but I do live,

And, surely, as I live, I am a maid.

D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander

lived.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;

When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell you 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; [unmasking] What is

your will?

Bene. Do not love me?

Beat.

you

*No, no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and

Claudio,

Have been deceived; for they swore you did.

Beat. Do not you love me? Bene. No, no more than reason.† Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceived; 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 gentle

man.

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, stolen 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

"Why no." MALONE.

+"Troth no, no more than reason." MALONE.

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