Shakespeare's First Folio - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Prin. Good morrow masters, put your Torches out, The wolues haue preied, and looke, the gentle day Before the wheeles of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsie East with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leaue vs, fare you well
Clau. Good morrow masters, each his seuerall way
Prin. Come let vs hence, and put on other weedes, And then to Leonatoes we will goe
Clau. And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds, Then this for whom we rendred vp this woe.
Exeunt.
Enter Leonato, Bene. Marg. Vrsula, old man, Frier, Hero.
Frier. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leo. So are the Prince and Claudio who accus'd her, Vpon the errour that you heard debated: But Margaret was in some fault for this, Although against her will as it appeares, In the true course of all the question
Old. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well
Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it
Leo. Well daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by your selues, And when I send for you, come hither mask'd: The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this howre To visit me, you know your office Brother, You must be father to your brothers daughter, And giue her to young Claudio.
Exeunt. Ladies.
Old. Which I will doe with confirm'd countenance
Bene. Frier, I must intreat your paines, I thinke
Frier. To doe what Signior?
Bene. To binde me, or vndoe me, one of them: Signior Leonato, truth it is good Signior, Your neece regards me with an eye of fauour
Leo. That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true
Bene. And I doe with an eye of loue requite her
Leo. The sight whereof I thinke you had from me, From Claudio, and the Prince, but what's your will?
Bened. Your answer sir is Enigmaticall, But for my will, my will is, your good will May stand with ours, this day to be conioyn'd, In the state of honourable marriage, In which (good Frier) I shall desire your helpe
Leon. My heart is with your liking
Frier. And my helpe.
Enter Prince and Claudio, with attendants.
Prin. Good morrow to this faire a.s.sembly
Leo. Good morrow Prince, good morrow Claudio: We heere attend you, are you yet determin'd, To day to marry with my brothers daughter?
Claud. Ile hold my minde were she an Ethiope
Leo. Call her forth brother, heres the Frier ready
Prin. Good morrow Bened.i.c.ke, why what's the matter?
That you haue such a Februarie face, So full of frost, of storme, and clowdinesse
Claud. I thinke he thinkes vpon the sauage bull: Tush, feare not man, wee'll tip thy hornes with gold, And all Europa shall reioyce at thee, As once Europa did at l.u.s.ty Ioue, When he would play the n.o.ble beast in loue
Ben. Bull Ioue sir, had an amiable low, And some such strange bull leapt your fathers Cow, A got a Calfe in that same n.o.ble feat, Much like to you, for you haue iust his bleat.
Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Vrsula.
Cla. For this I owe you: here comes other recknings.
Which is the Lady I must seize vpon?
Leo. This same is she, and I doe giue you her
Cla. Why then she's mine, sweet let me see your face
Leon. No that you shal not, till you take her hand, Before this Frier, and sweare to marry her
Clau. Giue me your hand before this holy Frier, I am your husband if you like of me
Hero. And when I liu'd I was your other wife, And when you lou'd, you were my other husband
Clau. Another Hero?
Hero. Nothing certainer.
One Hero died, but I doe liue, And surely as I liue, I am a maid
Prin. The former Hero, Hero that is dead
Leon. Shee died my Lord, but whiles her slander liu'd
Frier. All this amazement can I qualifie, When after that the holy rites are ended, Ile tell you largely of faire Heroes death: Meane time let wonder seeme familiar, And to the chappell let vs presently
Ben. Soft and faire Frier, which is Beatrice?
Beat. I answer to that name, what is your will?
Bene. Doe not you loue me?
Beat. Why no, no more then reason
Bene. Why then your Vncle, and the Prince, & Claudio, haue beene deceiued, they swore you did
Beat. Doe not you loue mee?
Bene. Troth no, no more then reason
Beat. Why then my Cosin Margaret and Vrsula Are much deceiu'd, for they did sweare you did
Bene. They swore you were almost sicke for me
Beat. They swore you were wel-nye dead for me
Bene. 'Tis no matter, then you doe not loue me?
Beat. No truly, but in friendly recompence
Leon. Come Cosin, I am sure you loue the gentlema[n]