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For here's a paper written in his hand,
Hero. And here's another,
Writ in my cousin's hand, ftol'n from her pocket,
Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts! Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.
Beat. I would now deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great perfuafion, and, partly, to fave your life; for, as I was told, you were in a consumption.
Bene. Peace, I will ftop your mouth.
[kiffes her. Pedro. How doft thou, Benedick, the marry'd man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour: doft thou think, I care for a fatire, or an epigram? no: if a man will be beaten with brains, he fhall wear nothing handfome about him: in brief, fince I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can fay against it: and therefore never flout at me, for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclufion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but, in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my coufin.
Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have deny'd Beatrice, that I might have cudgell'd thee out of thy fingle life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.
Bene. Come, come, we are friends; let's have a dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives', heels.
Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.
Bene. First, o'my word; therefore, play, mufick. - Prince, thou art fad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipt with horn.
Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Meffina.
Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: I'll devife thee brave punishments for him. —Strike up, pipers.
[dance. Exeunt omnes.
THE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
VILLE DE LYON