Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

Claud. Another Hero?

Hero. Nothing certainer:

One Hero died defiled, but I do live,

And, surely as I live, I am innocent.

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:
Meantime, let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.

Bened. (L. c.) Soft and fair, Friar. Which is Beatrice?

Beatr. (L. c.) I answer to that name.

[BEATRICE and the other LADIES unmask.

What is your will?

Bened. Do not you love me?

Beatr. No, no more than reason.

Bened. Why, then, your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio,

Have been deceived, for they swore you did.

Beatr. Do not you love me?

Bened. No, no more than reason.

Beatr. Why, then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceived, for they did swear you did.

Bened. They swore that you were almost sick for

me.

Beatr. They swore that you were well nigh dead for

me.

Bened. 'Tis no such matter:-Then, you do not love me!

Beatr. 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. [Gives the paper to Beatrice.
Hero. And here's another,

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

[Gives the paper to BENEDICK, and returns to
R. of CLAUDIO.

Bened. A miracle!-here's our own hands against

our hearts! Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beatr. I would not deny you ;-but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save your life; for I was told you were in a consumption.

Bened. Peace, I will stop your mouth.

Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man? Bened. I'll tell thee what, Prince, a college of witcrackers 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, he 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 thing, and this is my conclusion.

Enter OFFICER, L.

Offi. My Lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Pedro. I think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise brave punishments for him.

[Exit OFFICER, L. Bened. Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin.

Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled 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 narrowly to thee.

Bened. Come, come, we are friends. Prince, thou art sad.

Pedro. Yes, I've got the tooth-ache.

Bened. Got the tooth-ache! Get thee a wife; and all will be well. Nay, laugh not, laugh not.

Your gibes and mockeries I laugh to scorn;

No staff more rev'rend than one tipt with horn.
[Exeunt omnes.

THE END.

[merged small][merged small][graphic][subsumed][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Printed and Published by T. DOLBY, Britannia Press,
17, Catherine-Street, Strand, London.

[graphic][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Doctor Cantwell. It is a vain fear.

Lady. L. Call it not vain; my reputation is dearer to me than my life.

Act V. Scene 1.

« VorigeDoorgaan »