William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare : Complete Collection (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry...)


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and Claudio mightily abus’d, and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone. Will you come presently?

      Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?

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

       Exeunt.

       ¶

       Enter Claudio, Prince [Don Pedro], and three or four with tapers.

      Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?

      [A] Lord. It is, my lord.

      [Claud. Reading out of a scroll.]

      Epitaph

      “Done to death by slanderous tongues

      Was the Hero that here lies.

      Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,

      Gives her fame which never dies.

      So the life that died with shame

      Lives in death with glorious fame.”

      Hang thou there upon the tomb,

       [Hangs up the scroll.]

      Praising her when I am [dumb].

      Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

      Song

      Pardon, goddess of the night,

      Those that slew thy virgin knight,

      For the which, with songs of woe,

      Round about her tomb they go.

      Midnight, assist our moan,

      Help us to sigh 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.

       D. Pedro.

      Good morrow, masters, put your torches out.

      The wolves have preyed, and look, the gentle day,

      Before the wheels of Phoebus, 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 several way.

       D. Pedro.

      Come let us hence, and put on other weeds,

      And then to Leonato’s we will go.

       Claud.

      And Hymen now with luckier issue speed’s

      Than this for whom we rend’red up this woe.

       Exeunt.

       ¶

       Enter Leonato, Benedick, [Beatrice,] Margaret, Ursula, old man [Antonio], Friar [Francis], Hero.

       Friar.

      Did I not tell you she was innocent?

       Leon.

      So are the Prince and Claudio, who accus’d her

      Upon the error that you heard debated.

      But Margaret was in some fault for this,

      Although against her will, as it appears

      In the true course of all the question.

       Ant.

      Well, I am glad that all things sorts so well.

       Bene.

      And so am I, being else 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 yourselves,

      And when I send for you, come hither masked.

      The Prince and Claudio promis’d by this hour

      To visit 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 entreat 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 favor.

       Leon.

      That eye my daughter lent her, ’tis most true.

       Bene.

      And I do with an eye of love requite her.

       Leon.

      The sight whereof I think you had from me,

      From Claudio, and the Prince. But what’s your will?

       Bene.

      Your answer, sir, is enigmatical,

      But for my will, my will is your good will

      May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin’d

      In the state of honorable marriage,

      In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.

       Leon.

      My heart is with your liking.

       Friar.

      And my help.

      Here comes the Prince and Claudio.

       Enter Prince [Don Pedro] and Claudio and two or three other.

       D. Pedro.

      Good morrow to this fair assembly.

       Leon.

      Good morrow, Prince; good morrow, Claudio;

      We here attend you. Are you yet determined

      To-day to marry with my brother’s daughter?

       Claud.

      I’ll hold my mind were she an Ethiope.

       Leon.

      Call her forth, brother, here’s the friar ready.

       [Exit Antonio.]