ever broke bread: but God is to be worshipped. All men are not alike: alas, good neighbor!

Leo. Indeed, neighbor, he comes too short of you. Dog. Gifts, that God gives.

Leo. I must leave you.

Dog. One word, sir: our watch, sir, have, indeed, comprehended two aspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worship.

Leo. Take their examination yourself, and bring it me. I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you.

Dog. It shall be suffigance.

Leo. Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mes. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her husband.

Leo. I will wait upon them: I am ready.

[Exeunt Leo. and Mes.

Dog. Go, good partner, go; get you to Francis Seacoal; bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail we are now to examination these men.

Ver. And we must do it wisely.

Dog. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you; here's that [touching his forehead.] shall drive some of them to a non com: only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.

The inside of a church.

Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, LEONATO, FRIAR, CLAUDIO, Benedick, heRO, BEATRICE, &c.

Leo. Come, friar Francis, be brief: only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.

Friar. You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?

Clau. No.

Leo. To be married to her, friar; you come to marry her.

Friar. Lady, you come hither to be married to this count?

Hero. I do.

Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, I charge you, on your souls, to utter it.

Clau. Know you any, Hero?

Hero. None, my lord.

Friar. Know you any, count?

Leo. I dare make his answer; none.

Clau. O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do!

Ben. How now? Interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as, ha ha! he!

Clau. Stand thee by, friar.-Father, by your

leave;

Will you, with free and unconstrained soul,

Give me this maid, your daughter?

Leo. As freely, son, as God did give her me.
Clau. And what have I to give you back, whose

worth

May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?

D. Pe. Nothing, unless you render her again. Clau. Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankful

ness.

There, Leonato, take her back again;

Give not this rotten orange to your friend :
She's but the sign and semblance of her honor.—
Behold, how like a maid she blushes here.
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Comes not that blood, as modest evidence,

To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear.
All you that see her, that she were a maid,
By these exterior shows? But she is none:
She knows the heat of a luxurious 1 bed:
Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.

Leo. What do you mean, my lord?
Clau.

Not to be married,

Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.

1 Lascivious.

Leo. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth, And made defeat of her virginity,—

Clau. I know what you would say; if I have known her,

You 'll say, she did embrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the 'forehand sin.

No, Leonato ;

I never tempted her with word too large ; 1
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd

Bashful sincerity and comely love.

1

Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?

Clau. Out on thy 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.

Hero. Is my lord well, that he doth speak so

wide? 2

Leo. Sweet prince, why speak not you?
D. Pe.

What should I speak?

I stand dishonor'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common stale.

Leo. Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things

are true.

Ben. This looks not like a nuptial.

Licentious. 2 So remotely from the present business.

Hero.

Clau. Leonato, stand I here ?

True, O God!

Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother?
Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own?

Leo. All this is so; but what of this, my lord? Clau. Let me but move one question to your daughter;

And, by that fatherly and kindly 1 power

That you have in her, bid her answer truly.

Leo. I charge thee, do so, as thou art my child. Hero. O God, defend me! how am I beset!— What kind of catechising call you this?

Clau. To make you answer truly to your name. Hero. Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name With any just reproach?

Clau.

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.

Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord,
D. Pe. Why, then are you no maiden.-Leonatɔ,
I am sorry you must hear. Upon mine honor,
Myself, my brother, and this grieved count,
Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night,
Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window;
Who hath, indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess'd the vile encounters they have had

1 Natural.

2 A villain free of tongue.