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
exceedingly narrowly to thee.

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.

Another Hero!

Give me your hand: before this holy friar,
I am your husband, if you like of me.

Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face.

For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings.
Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked
Which is the lady I must seize upon?

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.

I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.

And Hymen now with luckier issue speed's
Than this for whom we render'd up this woe.

Good morrow, masters: each his several way.

Now, unto thy bones good night!
Yearly will I do this rite.

Reading out of a scroll
Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies.
So the life that died with shame
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her ...

Is this the monument of Leonato?

To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

O noble sir,
Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer; and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio.

I know not how to pray your patience;
Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself;
Impose me to what penance your invention
Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn'd I not
But in mistaking.

Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear
In the rare semblance that I loved it first.

I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it.

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

Hearken after their offence, my lord.

He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a
doctor to such a man.

Most sincerely.

In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for
the love of Beatrice.

Yea, and text underneath, 'Here dwells Benedick the
married man'?

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

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

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?

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

God bless me from a challenge!

If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.

Nay, then, give him another staff: this last was
broke cross.

What, courage, man! What though care killed a cat,
thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Never any did so, though very many have been beside
their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the
minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are
high-proof melancholy and would fain have it beaten
away. Wilt thou use thy wit?

We had like to have had our two noses snapped off
with two old men without teeth.

Now, signior, what news?

Away! I will not have to do with you.

My villany?

Marry, beshrew my hand,
If it should give your age such cause of fear:
In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.

Who wrongs him?

Good day to both of you.

O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been placed
About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell,
Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love ...

Marry, that can Hero;
Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
What man was he talk'd with you yesternight
Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.

To make you answer truly to your name.

Let me but move one question to your daughter;
And, by that fatherly and kindly power
That you have in her, bid her answer truly.

Leonato, stand I here?
Is this the prince? is this the prince's brother?
Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own?

Out on thee! Seeming! I will write against it:
You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in savage sensuality.

I know what you would say: if I have known her,
You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the 'forehand sin:
No, Leonato,
I never tempted her with word too large;
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Bashful sincerity and comely ...

Not to be married,
Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.

Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
There, Leonato, take her back again:
Give not this rotten orange to your friend;
She's but the sign and semblance of her honour.
Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover ...