# Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/Much adoe about Nothing/Act 5

Actus Quintus.
Enter Leonato and his brother.
Brother.
If you goe on thus, you will kill your selfe, And 'tis not wisedome thus to second griefe,
Against your selfe.
Leon.
I pray thee cease thy counsaile, Which falls into mine eares as profitlesse, As water in a siue: giue not me counsaile, Nor let no comfort delight mine eare, But such a one whose wrongs doth sute with mine. Bring me a father that so lou'd his childe, Whose ioy of her is ouer-whelmed like mine, And bid him speake of patience, Measure his woe the length and bredth of mine, And let it answere euery straine for straine, As thus for thus, and such a griefe for such, In euery lineament, branch, shape, and forme: If such a one will smile and stroke his beard, And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone, Patch griefe with prouerbs, make misfortune drunke, With candle-wasters: bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience: But there is no such man, for brother, men Can counsaile, and speake comfort to that griefe, Which they themselues not feele, but tasting it, Their counsaile turnes to passion, which before, Would giue preceptiall medicine to rage, Fetter strong madnesse in a silken thred, Charme ache with ayre, and agony with words, No, no, 'tis all mens office, to speake patience To those that wring vnder the load of sorrow: But no mans vertue nor sufficiencie To be so morall, when he shall endure The like himselfe: therefore giue me no counsaile, My griefs cry lowder then aduertisement.
Broth.
Therein do men from children nothing differ.
Leonato.
I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and bloud, For there was neuer yet Philosopher, That could endure the tooth-ake patiently, How euer they haue writ the stile of gods, And made a push at chance and sufferance.
Brother.
Yet bend not all the harme vpon your selfe, Make those that doe offend you, suffer too.
Leon. There thou speak'st reason, nay I will doe so, My soule doth tell me, Hero is belied, And that shall Claudio know, so shall the Prince, And all of them that thus dishonour her.
Enter Prince and Claudio.
Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.
Prin.
Good den, good den.
Clau.
Good day to both of you.
Leon.
Heare you my Lords?
Prin.
We haue some haste Leonato.
Leo.
Some haste my Lord! wel, fareyouwel my Lord, Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.
Prin.
Nay, do not quarrel with vs, good old man.
Brot. If he could rite himselfe with quarrelling, Some of vs would lie low.
Claud.
Who wrongs him?
Leon.
Marry thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou: Nay, neuer lay thy hand vpon thy sword, I feare thee not.
Claud.
Marry beshrew my hand, If it should giue your age such cause of feare, Infaith my hand meant nothing to my sword.
Leonato.
Tush, tush, man, neuer fleere and iest at me, I speake not like a dotard, nor a foole, As vnder priuiledge of age to bragge, What I haue done being yong, or what would doe, Were I not old, know Claudio to thy head, Thou hast so wrong'd my innocent childe and me, That I am forc'd to lay my reuerence by, And with grey haires and bruise of many daies, Doe challenge thee to triall of a man, I say thou hast belied mine innocent childe. Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart, And she lies buried with her ancestors: O in a tombe where neuer scandall slept, Saue this of hers, fram'd by thy villanie.
Claud.
My villany?
Leonato.
Thine Claudio, thine I say.
Prin.
You say not right old man.
Leon.
My Lord, my Lord, Ile proue it on his body if he dare, Despight his nice fence, and his actiue practise, His Maie of youth, and bloome of lustihood.
Claud.
Away, I will not haue to do with you.
Leo.
Canst thou so daffe me? thou hast kild my child, If thou kilst me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
Bro. He shall kill two of vs, and men indeed, But that's no matter, let him kill one first:
Win me and weare me, let him answere me, Come follow me boy, come sir boy, come follow me Sir boy, ile whip you from your foyning fence, Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.
Leon.
Brother.
Brot.
Content your self, God knows I lou'd my neece, And she is dead, slander'd to death by villaines, That dare as well answer a man indeede, As I dare take a serpent by the tongue. Boyes, apes, braggarts, Iackes, milke-sops.
Leon.
Brother Anthony.
Brot.
Hold you content, what man? I know them, yea And what they weigh, euen to the vtmost scruple, Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boyes, That lye, and cog, and flout, depraue, and slander, Goe antiquely, and show outward hidiousnesse, And speake of halfe a dozen dang'rous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst. And this is all.
Leon.
But brother Anthonie.
Ant.
Come, 'tis no matter, Do not you meddle, let me deale in this.
Pri.
Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience My heart is sorry for your daughters death: But on my honour she was charg'd with nothing But what was true, and very full of proofe.
Leon. My Lord, my Lord.
Prin.
I will not heare you.
Enter Benedicke.
No come brother, away, I will be heard. Exeunt ambo.
Bro.
And shall, or some of vs will smart for it.
Prin.
See, see, here comes the man we went to seeke.
Clau.
Now signior, what newes?
Ben.
Good day my Lord.
Prin.
Welcome signior, you are almost come to part almost a fray.
Clau.
Wee had likt to haue had our two noses snapt off with two old men without teeth.
Prin.
Leonato and his brother, what think'st thou? had wee fought, I doubt we should haue beene too yong for them.
Ben.
In a false quarrell there is no true valour, I came to seeke you both.
Clau.
We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for we are high proofe melancholly, and would faine haue it beaten away, wilt thou vse thy wit?
Ben.
It is in my scabberd, shall I draw it?
Prin.
Doest thou weare thy wit by thy side?
Clau.
Neuer any did so, though verie many haue been beside their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as we do the minstrels, draw to pleasure vs.
Prin.
As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art thou sicke, or angrie?
Clau.
What, courage man: what though care kil'd a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.
Ben.
Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and you charge it against me, I pray you chuse another subiect.
Clau.
Nay then giue him another staffe, this last was broke crosse.
Prin.
By this light, he changes more and more, I thinke he be angrie indeede.
Clau.
If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle.
Ben.
Shall I speake a word in your eare?
Clau.
God blesse me from a challenge.
Ben.
You are a villaine, I iest not, I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare: do me right, or I will protest your cowardise: you haue kill'd a sweete Ladie, and her death shall fall heauie on you, let me heare from you.
Clau.
Well, I will meete you, so I may haue good cheare.
Prin.
What, a feast, a feast?
Clau.
I faith I thanke him, he hath bid me to a calues head and a Capon, the which if I doe not carue most curiously, say my knife's naught, shall I not finde a woodcocke too?
Ben.
Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily.
Prin.
Ile tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day: I said thou hadst a fine wit: true saies she, a fine little one: no said I, a great wit: right saies shee, a great grosse one: nay said I, a good wit: iust said she, it hurts no body: nay said I, the gentleman is wise: certaine said she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he hath the tongues: that I beleeue said shee, for hee swore a thing to me on munday night, which he forswore on tuesday morning: there's a double tongue, there's two tongues: thus did shee an howre together trans-shape thy particular vertues, yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the proprest man in Italie.
Claud.
For the which she wept heartily, and said shee car'd not.
Prin.
Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if shee did not hate him deadlie, shee would loue him dearely, the old mans daughter told vs all.
Clau.
All, all, and moreouer, God saw him when he was hid in the garden.
Prin.
But when shall we set the sauage Bulls hornes on the sensible Benedicks head?
Clau.
Yea and text vnder-neath, heere dwells Benedicke the married man.
Ben.
Fare you well, Boy, you know my minde, I will leaue you now to your gossep-like humor, you breake iests as braggards do their blades, which God be thanked hurt not: my Lord, for your manie courtesies I thank you, I must discontinue your companie, your brother the Bastard is fled from Messina: you haue among you, kill'd a sweet and innocent Ladie: for my Lord Lackebeard there, he and I shall meete, and till then peace be with him.
Prin.
He is in earnest.
Clau.
In most profound earnest, and Ile warrant you, for the loue of Beatrice.
Prin.
And hath challeng'd thee.
Clau.
Most sincerely.
Prin.
What a prettie thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hose, and leaues off his wit.
Enter Constable, Conrade, and Borachio.
Clau.
He is then a Giant to an Ape, but then is an Ape a Doctor to such a man.
Prin.
But soft you, let me be, plucke vp my heart, and be sad, did he not say my brother was fled?
Const.
Come you sir, if iustice cannot tame you, shee shall nere weigh more reasons in her ballance, nay, and you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be lookt to.
Prin.
How now, two of my brothers men bound? Borachio one.
Clau.
Harken after their offence my Lord.
Prin.
Officers, what offence haue these men done?
Const.
Marrie sir, they haue committed false report, moreouer they haue spoken vntruths, secondarily they are slanders, sixt and lastly, they haue belyed a Ladie, thirdly, they haue verified vniust things, and to conclude they are lying knaues.
Prin.
First I aske thee what they haue done, thirdlie I aske thee what's their offence, sixt and lastlie why they are committed, and to conclude, what you lay to their charge.
Clau.
Rightlie reasoned, and in his owne diuision, and by my troth there's one meaning well suted.
Prin.
Who haue you offended masters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned Constable is too cunning to be vnderstood, what's your offence?
Bor.
Sweete Prince, let me go no farther to mine answere: do you heare me, and let this Count kill mee: I haue deceiued euen your verie eies: what your wisedomes could not discouer, these shallow fooles haue brought to light, who in the night ouerheard me confessing to this man, how Don Iohn your brother incensed me to slander the Ladie Hero, how you were brought into the Orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Heroes garments, how you disgrac'd her when you should marrie her: my villanie they haue vpon record, which I had rather seale with my death, then repeate ouer to my shame: the Ladie is dead vpon mine and my masters false accusation: and briefelie, I desire nothing but the reward of a villaine.
Prin.
Runs not this speech like yron through your bloud?
Clau.
I haue drunke poison whiles he vtter'd it.
Prin.
But did my Brother set thee on to this?
Bor.
Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it.
Prin.
He is compos'd and fram'd of treacherie, And fled he is vpon this villanie.
Clau.
Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appeare In the rare semblance that I lou'd it first.
Const.
Come, bring away the plaintiffes, by this time our Sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: and masters, do not forget to specifie when time & place shall serue, that I am an Asse.
Con.2.
Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too.
Enter Leonato.
Leon.
Which is the villaine? let me see his eies, That when I note another man like him, I may auoide him: which of these is he?
Bor.
If you would know your wronger, looke on me.
Leon.
Art thou the slaue that with thy breath hast kild mine innocent childe?
Bor.
Yea, euen I alone.
Leo.
No, not so villaine, thou beliest thy selfe, Here stand a paire of honourable men, A third is fled that had a hand in it: I thanke you Princes for my daughters death, Record it with your high and worthie deedes, 'Twas brauely done, if you bethinke you of it.
Clau.
I know not how to pray your patience, Yet I must speake, choose your reuenge your selfe, Impose me to what penance your inuention Can lay vpon my sinne, yet sinn'd I not, But in mistaking.
Prin.
By my soule nor I, And yet to satisfie this good old man, I would bend vnder anie heauie waight, That heele enioyne me to.
Leon.
I cannot bid you bid my daughter liue, That were impossible, but I praie you both, Possesse the people in Messina here, How innocent she died, and if your loue Can labour aught in sad inuention, Hang her an epitaph vpon her toomb, And sing it to her bones, sing it to night: To morrow morning come you to my house, And since you could not be my sonne in law, Be yet my Nephew: my brother hath a daughter, Almost the copie of my childe that's dead, And she alone is heire to both of vs, Giue her the right you should haue giu'n her cosin, And so dies my reuenge.
Clau.
O noble sir! Your ouerkindnesse doth wring teares from me, I do embrace your offer, and dispose For henceforth of poore Claudio.
Leon.
To morrow then I will expect your comming, To night I take my leaue, this naughtie man Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, Who I beleeue was packt in all this wrong, Hired to it by your brother.
Bor.
No, by my soule she was not, Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, But alwaies hath bin iust and vertuous, In anie thing that I do know by her.
Const.
Moreouer sir, which indeede is not vnder white and black, this plaintiffe here, the offendour did call mee asse, I beseech you let it be remembred in his punishment, and also the watch heard them talke of one Deformed, they say he weares a key in his eare and a lock hanging by it, and borrowes monie in Gods name, the which he hath vs'd so long, and neuer paied, that now men grow hard-harted and will lend nothing for Gods sake: praie you examine him vpon that point.
Leon.
I thanke thee for thy care and honest paines.
Const.
Your worship speakes like a most thankefull and reuerend youth, and I praise God for you.
Leon.
There's for thy paines.
Const.
God saue the foundation.
Leon.
Goe, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thanke thee.
Const.
I leaue an arrant knaue with your worship, which I beseech your worship to correct your selfe, for the example of others: God keepe your worship, I wish your worship well, God restore you to health, I humblie giue you leaue to depart, and if a merrie meeting may be wisht, God prohibite it: come neighbour.
Leon.
Vntill to morrow morning, Lords, farewell. Exeunt.
Brot.
Farewell my Lords, we looke for you to morrow.
Prin.
We will not faile.
Clau.
To night ile mourne with Hero.
Leon.
Bring you these fellowes on, weel talke with Margaret, how her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. Exeunt.
Enter Benedicke and Margaret.
Praie thee sweete Mistris Margaret, deserue well at my hands, by helping mee to the speech of Beatrice.
Mar.
Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of my beautie?
Bene.
In so high a stile Margaret, that no man liuing shall come ouer it, for in most comely truth thou deseruest it.
Mar.
To haue no man come ouer me, why, shall I alwaies keepe below staires?
Bene.
Thy wit is as quicke as the grey-hounds mouth, it catches.
Mar.
And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which hit, but hurt not.
Bene.
A most manly wit Margaret, it will not hurt a woman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the bucklers.
Mar.
Giue vs the swords, wee haue bucklers of our owne.
Bene.
If you vse them Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for Maides.
Mar.
Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke hath legges. Exit Margarite.
Ben.
And therefore will come. The God of loue that sits aboue, and knowes me, and knowes me, how pittifull I deserue. I meane in singing, but in louing, Leander the good swimmer, Troilous the first imploier of pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam car-pet-mongers, whose name yet runne smoothly in the euen rode of a blanke verse, why they were neuer so truely turned ouer and ouer as my poore selfe in loue: marrie I cannot shew it rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent rime: for scorne, horne, a hard rime: for schoole foole, a babling rime: verie ominous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a riming Plannet, for I cannot wooe in festiuall tearmes:
Enter Beatrice.
Beat.
Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me.
Bene.
O stay but till then.
Beat.
Then, is spoken: fare you well now, and yet ere I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with knowing what hath past betweene you and Claudio.
Bene.
Onely foule words, and thereupon I will kisse thee.
Beat.
Foule words is but foule wind, and foule wind is but foule breath, and foule breath is noisome, therefore I will depart vnkist.
Bene.
Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sence, so forcible is thy wit, but I must tell thee plainely, Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I must shortly heare from him, or I will subscribe him a coward, and I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in loue with me?
Beat.
For them all together, which maintain'd so politique a state of euill, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them: but for which of my good parts did you first suffer loue for me?
Bene.
Suffer loue! a good epithite, I do suffer loue indeede, for I loue thee against my will.
Beat.
In spight of your heart I think, alas poore heart, if you spight it for my sake, I will spight it for yours, for I will neuer loue that which my friend hates.
Bened.
Thou and I are too wise to wooe peaceablie.
Bea.
It appeares not in this confession, there's not one wise man among twentie that will praise himselfe.
Bene.
An old, an old instance Beatrice, that liu'd in the time of good neighbours, if a man doe not erect in this age his owne tombe ere he dies, hee shall liue no longer in monuments, then the Bels ring, & the Widdow weepes.
Beat.
And how long is that thinke you?
Ben.
Question, why an hower in clamour and a quarter in rhewme, therfore is it most expedient for the wise, if Don worme (his conscience) finde no impediment to the contrarie, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as I am to my selfe so much for praising my selfe, who I my selfe will beare witnesse is praise worthie, and now tell me, how doth your cosin?
Beat.
Verie ill.
Bene.
And how doe you?
Beat.
Verie ill too.
Enter Vrsula.
Bene.
Serue God, loue me, and mend, there will I leaue you too, for here comes one in haste.
Vrs.
Madam, you must come to your Vncle, yonders old coile at home, it is prooued my Ladie Hero hath bin falselie accusde, the Prince and Claudio mightilie abusde, and Don Iohn is the author of all, who is fled and gone: will you come presentlie?
Beat.
Will you go heare this newes Signior?
Bene.
I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eies: and moreouer, I will goe with thee to thy Vncles. Exeunt.
Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or foure with Tapers.
Clau.
Is this the monument of Leonato?
Lord. It is my Lord.
Epitaph. Done to death by slanderous tongues, Was the Hero that here lies: Death in guerdon of her wrongs, Giues her fame which neuer dies: So the life that dyed with shame, Liues in death with glorious fame. Hang thou there vpon the tombe, Praising her when I am dombe.
Clau.
Now musick sound & sing your solemn hymne
Song.
Those that slew thy virgin knight, For the which with songs of woe, Round about her tombe they goe: Midnight assist our mone, helpe vs to sigh and grone. Heauily, heauily. Graues yawne and yeelde your dead, Till death be vttered, Heauenly, heauenly.
Lo.
Now vnto thy bones good night, yeerely will I do this right.
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.
Good morrow to this faire assembly.
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 Benedicke, 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 lusty Ioue, When he would play the noble 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 noble feat, Much like to you, for you haue iust his bleat.
Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Vrsula.
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.
Clau.
And Ile be sworne vpon't, that he loues her, For heres a paper written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his owne pure braine, Fashioned to Beatrice.
Hero.
And heeres another, Writ in my cosins hand, stolne from her pocket, Containing her affection vnto Benedicke.
Bene.
A miracle, here's our owne hands against our hearts: come I will haue thee, but by this light I take thee for pittie.
Beat.
I would not denie you, but by this good day, I yeeld vpon great perswasion, & partly to saue your life, for I was told, you were in a consumption.
Leon.
Peace I will stop your mouth.
Prin.
How dost thou Benedicke the married man?
Bene.
Ile tell thee what Prince: a Colledge of witte-crackers cannot flout mee out of my humour, dost thou think I care for a Satyre or an Epigram? no, if a man will be beaten with braines, a shall weare nothing handsome about him: in briefe, since I do purpose to marry, I will thinke nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it, and therefore neuer flout at me, for I haue said against it: for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion: for thy part Claudio, I did thinke to haue beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, liue vn-bruis'd, and loue my cousin.
Cla.
I had well hop'd thou wouldst haue denied Beatrice, that I might haue cudgel'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer, which out of question thou wilt be, if my Cousin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee.
Bene.
Come, come, we are friends, let's haue a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wiues heeles.
Leon.
Wee'll haue dancing afterward.
Bene.
Enter. Mes.
My Lord, your brother Iohn is tane in flight, And brought with armed men backe to Messina.
Bene.
Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuise thee braue punishments for him: strike vp Pipers. Dance.
FINIS.
Layout 2