Leon. I charge thee do so, as thou art my child. What kind of catechizing call you this? Claud. To make you answer truly to your name. With any just reproach ? Marry, that can Hero, Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue. Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord. D. Pedro. Why, then you are no maiden.-Leonato, I am sorry you must hear; Upon mine honour, Myself, my brother, and this grieved count, Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night, Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window; Who hath, indeed, most like a liberal 47 villain, Confess'd the vile encounters they have had A thousand times in secret. D. John. Fie, fie! they are Not to be nam'd, my lord, not to be spoke of; There is not chastity enough in language, Without offence, to utter them: Thus, pretty lady, I am sorry for thy much misgovernment. Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou been, If half thy outward graces had been placed About thy thoughts, and counsels of thy heart! But, fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell, Thou pure impiety, and impious purity! For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love, : Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? [Hero swoons. Beat. Why, how now, cousin? wherefore sink you down? D. John. Come, let us go: these things, come thus to light, Smother her spirits up. [Exeunt Don Pedro, Don John, and Claudio. Bene. How doth the lady? Dead, I think ;-Help, uncle ; *Hero! why, Hero! - Uncle!-Signior Benedick! Leon. O fate, take not away thy heavy hand! Death is the fairest cover for her shame, Leon. Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny The story that is printed in her blood * ? Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes : Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, Hath drops too few to wash her clean again; To her foul tainted flesh! Bene. Sir, sir, be patient: For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, I know not what to say. Beat. O, on my soul, my cousin is belied ! Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? Beat. No, truly, not; although, until last night, I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow. Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made, Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron ! |