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do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do!
Bene. How now! Interjections? Why, then some be of laughing, as, ha! ha! he! Claud. Stand thee by, friar :- Father, by your
leave! Will you with free and unconstrained soul Give me this maid, your daughter?
Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whose
worth May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
D. Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again. Claud. Sweet prince, you learn me noble thank
fulness.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 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 5 bed: Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty. Leon. What do you mean, my
Not to be married, Not knit my soul to an approved wanton.
Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth. And made defeat of her virginity,
Claud. I know what you would say; If I have
known her, You'll
say, she did embrace me as a husband,
Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
What should I speak ?
True, O God!
Leon. All this is so; But what of this, my lord ?
7 Remote from the business in hand.
And by that fatherly and kindly power
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 catechizing call you
this? Claud. To make you answer truly to your name.
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 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.
Fye, fye! they are
Claud. 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,
8 Too free of tongue.
And on my eye-lids shall conjecture hang,
[HERO swoons. Beat. Why, how now, cousin ? wherefore sink D. John. Come, let us go: these things, come
thus to light, Smother her spirits up.
(Exeunt Don PEDRO, Don John, and Claudro. 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 ?
eyes : For did I think thou would'st not quickly die, Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames, Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one ? Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame + ? O, one too much by thee! Why had I one? Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes ?
1 Disposition of things.
Why had I not, with charitable hand,
Sir, sir, be patient:
Beat O, on my soul, my cousin is belied !
Beat. No truly, not: although, until last night,
Friar. Hear me a little ;