1    Did I not tell you she was innocent?

2    So are the prince and Claudio, who accused her
3    Upon the error that you heard debated:
4    But Margaret was in some fault for this,
5    Although against her will, as it appears
6    In the true course of all the question.

7    Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.

8    And so am I, being else by faith enforced
9    To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

10   Well, daughter, and you gentle-women all,
11   Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,
12   And when I send for you, come hither mask'd.
Exeunt Ladies
13   The prince and Claudio promised by this hour
14   To visit me. You know your office, brother:
15   You must be father to your brother's daughter
16   And give her to young Claudio.

17   Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.

18   Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.

19   To do what, signior?

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

23   That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most true.

24   And I do with an eye of love requite her.

25   The sight whereof I think you had from me,
26   From Claudio and the prince: but what's your will?

27   Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:
28   But, for my will, my will is your good will
29   May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
30   In the state of honourable marriage:
31   In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.

32   My heart is with your liking.

33   And my help.
34   Here comes the prince and Claudio.

35   Good morrow to this fair assembly.

36   Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio:
37   We here attend you. Are you yet determined
38   To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?

39   I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.

40   Call her forth, brother; here's the friar ready.

41   Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
42   That you have such a February face,
43   So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

44   I think he thinks upon the savage bull.
45   Tush, fear not, man; we'll tip thy horns with gold
46   And all Europa shall rejoice at thee,
47   As once Europa did at lusty Jove,
48   When he would play the noble beast in love.

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

53   For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings.
Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked
54   Which is the lady I must seize upon?

55   This same is she, and I do give you her.

56   Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face.

57   No, that you shall not, till you take her hand
58   Before this friar and swear to marry her.

59   Give me your hand: before this holy friar,
60   I am your husband, if you like of me.

61   And when I lived, I was your other wife:
Unmasking
62   And when you loved, you were my other husband.

63   Another Hero!

64   Nothing certainer:
65   One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
66   And surely as I live, I am a maid.

67   The former Hero! Hero that is dead!

68   She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.

69   All this amazement can I qualify:
70   When after that the holy rites are ended,
71   I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
72   Meantime let wonder seem familiar,
73   And to the chapel let us presently.

74   Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?

Unmasking
75    I answer to that name. What is your will?

76   Do not you love me?

77   Why, no; no more than reason.

78   Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio
79   Have been deceived; they swore you did.

80   Do not you love me?

81   Troth, no; no more than reason.

82   Why, then my cousin Margaret and Ursula
83   Are much deceived; for they did swear you did.

84   They swore that you were almost sick for me.

85   They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

86   'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?

87   No, truly, but in friendly recompense.

88   Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

89   And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
90   For here's a paper written in his hand,
91   A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
92   Fashion'd to Beatrice.

93   And here's another
94   Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
95   Containing her affection unto Benedick.

96   A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts.
97   Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take
98   thee for pity.

99   I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield
100  upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life,
101  for I was told you were in a consumption.

102  Peace! I will stop your mouth.

103  How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

104  I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of
105  wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost
106  thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No:
107  if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear
108  nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do
109  purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any
110  purpose that the world can say against it; and
111  therefore never flout at me for what I have said
112  against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my
113  conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to
114  have beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my
115  kinsman, live unbruised and love my cousin.

116  I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice,
117  that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single
118  life, to make thee a double-dealer; which, out of
119  question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look
120  exceedingly narrowly to thee.

121  Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere
122  we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts
123  and our wives' heels.

124  We'll have dancing afterward.

125  First, of my word; therefore play, music. Prince,
126  thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife:
127  there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

128  My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
129  And brought with armed men back to Messina.

130  Think not on him till to-morrow:
131  I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.
132  Strike up, pipers.