Frier. 'Tis well consented, presently away, For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure, Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure. Enter.

Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while? Beat. Yea, and I will weepe a while longer

Bene. I will not desire that

Beat. You haue no reason, I doe it freely

Bene. Surelie I do beleeue your fair cosin is wrong'd

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserue of mee that would right her! Bene. Is there any way to shew such friendship? Beat. A verie euen way, but no such friend

Bene. May a man doe it? Beat. It is a mans office, but not yours

Bene. I doe loue nothing in the world so well as you, is not that strange? Beat. As strange as the thing I know not, it were as possible for me to say, I loued nothing so well as you, but beleeue me not, and yet I lie not, I confesse nothing, nor I deny nothing, I am sorry for my cousin

Bene. By my sword Beatrice thou lou'st me

Beat. Doe not sweare by it and eat it

Bene. I will sweare by it that you loue mee, and I will make him eat it that sayes I loue not you

Beat. Will you not eat your word? Bene. With no sawce that can be deuised to it, I protest I loue thee

Beat. Why then God forgiue me

Bene. What offence sweet Beatrice? Beat. You haue stayed me in a happy howre, I was about to protest I loued you

Bene. And doe it with all thy heart

Beat. I loue you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest

Bened. Come, bid me doe any thing for thee

Beat. Kill Claudio

Bene. Ha, not for the wide world

Beat. You kill me to denie, farewell

Bene. Tarrie sweet Beatrice

Beat. I am gone, though I am heere, there is no loue in you, nay I pray you let me goe

Bene. Beatrice

Beat. Infaith I will goe

Bene. Wee'll be friends first

Beat. You dare easier be friends with mee, than fight with mine enemy

Bene. Is Claudio thine enemie? Beat. Is a not approued in the height a villaine, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! what, beare her in hand vntill they come to take hands, and then with publike accusation vncouered slander, vnmittigated rancour? O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place

Bene. Heare me Beatrice

Beat. Talke with a man out at a window, a proper saying

Bene. Nay but Beatrice

Beat. Sweet Hero, she is wrong'd, shee is slandered, she is vndone

Bene. Beat? Beat. Princes and Counties! surelie a Princely testimonie, a goodly Count, Comfect, a sweet Gallant surelie, O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into cursies, valour into complement, and men are onelie turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and sweares it: I cannot be a man with wishing, therfore I will die a woman with grieuing

Bene. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee

Beat. Vse it for my loue some other way then swearing by it

Bened. Thinke you in your soule the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero? Beat. Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a soule

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

All Pages of This Book