D. John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. Bene. This looks not like a nuptial. Hero. Claud. Leonato, stand I here? True! O God! Is this the prince? is this the prince's brother? Leon. All this is so: but what of this, my lord? Claud. 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. Leon. 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? 70 Claud. To make you answer truly to your name. 80 Hero. Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name With any just reproach? Claud. Marry, that can Hero; Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue. What man was he talk'd with you yesternight Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my D. Pedro. Why, then are you no maiden. I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour, 93. liberal, licentious. D. John. Fie, fie! they are not to be named, my lord, Not to be spoke of; There is not chastity enough in language Thus, pretty lady, I am sorry for thy much misgovernment. Claud. O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been, If half thy outward graces had been placed Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for D. John. Come, let us go. These things, come Smother her spirits up. [Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio. Bene. How doth the lady? Beat. Dead, I think. Help, uncle! Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar! Leon. O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand. Death is the fairest cover for her shame That may be wish'd for. Beat. How now, cousin Hero! Friar. Have comfort, lady. Leon. Dost thou look up? Friar. Yea, wherefore should she not? Leon. Wherefore! Why, doth not every earthly thing 107. conjecture, suspicion. Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes: Strike at thy life. Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame? O, one too much by thee! Why had I one? This shame derives itself from unknown loins '? Hath drops too few to wash her clean again Bene. Sir, sir, be patient. For my part, I am so attired in wonder, I know not what to say. Beat. O, on my soul, my cousin is belied! 130 140 Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? Beat. No, truly not; although, until last night, 150 I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow. Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron! Friar. Hear me a little; For I have only been silent so long And given way unto this course of fortune, A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face; a thousand innocent shames Leon. A sin of perjury; she not denies it : Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accused of? none: If I know more of any man alive Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, Maintain'd the change of words with any creature, Friar. There is some strange misprision in the 168. experimental seal, the seal of experience. 160 170 180 187. misprision, misappre hension. Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour; And if their wisdoms be misled in this, The practice of it lives in John the bastard, Leon. I know not. If they speak but truth of her, honour, The proudest of them shall well hear of it. Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Friar. Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you in this case. Your daughter here the princes left for dead: And publish it that she is dead indeed; And on your family's old monument Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites. Leon. What shall become of this? what will Friar. Marry, this well carried shall on her Change slander to remorse; that is some good: 191. in frame, in the framing. 190 200 210 |