D. Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?

Claud. I have drunk poison, whiles he ut ter'd it.

D. Pedro But did my brother set thee on to this ?

Bora. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it.

D. Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery: And fled he is upon this villainy.

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 reform'd Signior Leonato of the matter: And masters, do not forget to spe cify, when time and place shall serve, that Lam

an ass.

Verg. Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.

enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the

Sexton

Leon. Which is 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.

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 beley'st thyself;

Here

Here stand a pair of honourable ment,
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,
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.

D. Pedro. By my soul, nor I;

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,

And sing it to her bones; sing it to night:
Tomorrow 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,

And so dies my revenge.

Claud. O, noble Sir,

Your over kindness doth wring tears from me!

I do embrace your offer; and dispose

For henceforth of poor Claudio.

Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who, I believe, was pack'd in all this wrong,
Hir'd to it by your brother.

Bora. No, by my soul, she was not;

Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke

But always hath been just and virtuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.

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 car, 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.

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.

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 wish'd, God prohibit it. Come, neighbour. [Exeunt DOGBERRY, VERGES, and Watch.

Leon. Until tomorrow morning, Lords, farewell.

Aut. Farewell, my Lords; we look for you to

morrow.

D. Pedro. We will not fail.

Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

[Exeunt D. PEDRO and CLAUDIO. Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

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?

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

Marg. And your's 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."

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,

[Singing.

And knows me, and knows me,
How pitiful I deserve,

Leander

I mean, in singing; but in loving, the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers', whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly turn'd, over and over as my poor self, in love: Marry, I cannot show it in rhime; I have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but baby, an innocent rhime; for scorn, horn, a hard rhime; for school, fool, a babbling rhime; very omino us endings: No, I was not born under a rhiming planet, ¡nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter BEATRICE.

Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee?

Beat. Yea, Signior, and depart when you bid me. Bene. O, stay but till then!

Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now: '

and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came

for, which is, with knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.