in the time of good neighbours; if a man do not erec in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he fhall live no longer in monuments, than the bells ring, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you?

Bene. Queftion ?-why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum; therefore it is moft expedient for the wife, if Don worm (his confcience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself; so much for praifing myfelf; who, I myself will bear witnefs, is praife-worthy; and now tell me, how doth your Cousin ?

Beat. Very ill.

Bene. And how do you?

Beat. Very ill too.

Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend; there will I leave you too, for here comes one in hafte.

Enter Urfula.

Urfu. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder's old coil at home; it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falfely accufed; the Prince and Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the author of all, who is filed and gone will you come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, Signior?

Bene. I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy heart; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a CHURCH.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants awith tapers

Claud.

I

S this the monument of Leonato ?

Atten. It is, my lord,

EPITAPH.

Done to death by flanderous tongues
Was the Hero, that here lyes;
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies.

So

So the life, that dy'd with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praifing her when I am dumb.

Claud. Now mufick found, and fing your folemn hymn.

SO N G.

Pardon, Goddess of the night;
Those that flew thy virgin knight;
For the which with fongs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, affift her moan;
Help us to figh and groan
Heavily, heavily:

Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
"Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily.

Claud. Now unto thy bones good night;
Yearly will I do this Rite.

Pedro. Good-morrow, masters, put your torches out,
The wolves have prey'd; and, look, the gentle day,

Before the wheels of Phabus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey:

Thanks to you all, and leave us;

fare

you

well.

Claud. Good-morrow, masters; each his feveral way. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds And then to Leonato's we will

go.

;

Claud. And Hymen now with luckier iffue fpeed's, (28). Than this, for whom we render up this woe!

(28) And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds,

[Exeunt.

Than this, for whom we render'd up this voc.] Claudio could not know, without being a prophet, that this new-propos'd match should have any luckier event than that defign'd with Hero. Certainly, therefore, this should be a wish in Claudio; and, to this end, the poet might have wrote, speed's ; i. e, speed us: and fo it becomes a prayer Dr. Thirlby. 10 Hymen.

SCENE changes to Leonato's Houfe.

Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret, Urfula, Antonio, Friar, and Hero.

Friar.

ID I not tell you she was innocent?

D'

Leon. So are the Prince and Claudio, whe
accus'd her,

Upon the error that you heard debated.
But Margaret was in fome fault for this;
Although against her will, as it appears,
In the true course of all the question.

Ant. Well; 1 am glad, that all things fort fo well.
Bene. And fo am I, being elfe by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, Daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by yourfelves,

And when I fend for you, come hither mask'd:
The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To vifit me; you know your office, brother,
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio.

[Exeunt Ladies.

Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
Bene. Friar, I must intreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, Signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them;
Signior Leonato, truth it is, good Signior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.

Leon. That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis moft true. Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. Leon. The fight whereof, I think, you had from me, From Claudio and the Prince; but what's your will? Bene. Your anfwer, Sir, is enigmatical;

But for my will, my will is, your good will
May ftand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
I' th' ftate of honourable marriage;

In which, good Friar, I fhall defire your help.
Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Friar. And my help.

Enter

1

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio, with Attendants. Pedro. Good-morrow to this fair affembly.

Leon. Good-morrow, Prince; good-morrow, Claudio. We here attend you; are you yet determin'd To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?

Claud. I'll hold my mind, were the an Ethiope. Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the Friar ready. [Exit. Antonio. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick; why, what's the matter, That you have fuch a February-face,

So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

Claud. I think, he thinks upon the favage bull: Tufh, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold, And fo all Europe fhall rejoice at thee;

As once Europa did at lufty Jove,

When he would play the noble beast in love.

Bene. Bull Jove, Sir, had an amiable low, And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow; And got a calf, in that fame noble feat, Much like to you; for you have just his bleat.

Enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and Urfula, mask'd.

Claud. For this I owe you; here comes other recknings. Which is the lady I must seize upon ?

Ant. This fame is fhe, and I do give you her.

Claud. Why, then she's mine; Sweet, let me fee your face. Leon. No, that you shall not, 'till you take her hand Before this Friar, and fwear to marry her.

Claud. Give me your hand; before this holy Friar, I am your husband if you like of me.

Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife.

[Unmasking.

Here

And when you lov'd, you were my other husband.
Claud. Another Hero? (29)

Hero. Nothing certainer.

One Hero dy'd defil'd, but I do live;

And, furely, as I live, I am a maid.

Pedro. The former Hero! Hero, that is dead!
Leon. She dy'd, my lord, but whiles her flander liv'd.
Friar. All this amazement can I qualify.
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell thee largely of fair Hero's death:
Mean time let wonder feem familiar.
And to the chapel let us prefently.

Bene. Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?
Beat. I answer to that name; what is your will?
Bene. Do not you love me?

Beat. Why, no; no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then your Uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio, have been deceiv'd; they fwore you did. Beat. Do not you love me?

Bene. Troth, no, no more than reafon.

Beat. Why, then my Coufin, Margaret, and Urfula, Have been deceived; for they did fwear, you did. Bene. They fwore, you were almoft fick for me, Beat. They fwore, you were well nigh dead for me. Bene. 'Tis no matter; then you do not love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence.

Leon. Come, Coufin, I am fure you love the gentleman. Claud. And I'll be fworn upon't, that he loves her ;. For here's a paper written in his hand,

A halting fonnet of his own pure brain,,
Fashion'd to Beatrice..

Hero. And here's another,

Writ in my Coufin's hand, ftol'n from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

One Hero dy'd; but I do live,

And furely as live lam a maid.] Befidest hat the last line but one wants a whole foot in measure, it is as defective in the meaning; For how are the words made out? One Hero dy'd, and yet that Hero ives, but how is the then another Hero? The fupplement, which I have reftor'd from the old Quarto, folves all that difficulty, and makes she laft line reasonable,

Bena