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Cam. She hangs about his neck;

If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

Pol. Ay, and make 't manifest where she has liv'd, Or, how stol'n from the dead!

Paul.

That she is living,

Were it but told you, should be hooted at

Like an old tale; but it appears she lives,

Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.-
Please you to interpose, fair madam; kneel,

And pray your mother's blessing.-Turn, good lady;
Our Perdita is found. [Presenting PER., who kneels to HER.
Her.
You gods, look down,

And from your sacred vials pour your graces

Upon my daughter's head!-Tell me, mine own,

Where hast thou been preserv'd? where liv'd? how found
Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear, that I,—
Knowing by Paulina, that the oracle

Gave hope thou wast in being,-have preserv'd
Myself to see the issue.

Paul.
Lest they desire, upon this push, to trouble
Your joys with like relation.-Go together,
You precious winners all; your exultation
Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,

There's time enough for that;

Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there
My mate, that's never to be found again,

Lament till I am lost.

Leon.

O peace, Paulina;

Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,

As I by thine, a wife: this is a match,

And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine

But how, is to be question'd: for I saw her,

As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said many

A prayer upon her grave: I'll not seek far

(For him, I partly know his mind) to find thee
An honourable husband:-Come, Camillo,

And take her by the hand: whose worth, and honesty,
Is richly noted; and here justified

By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.-
What?-Look upon my brother:-both your pardons,

That e'er I put between your holy looks
My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law,
And son unto the king, (whom heavens directing,)
Is troth-plight to your daughter.-Good Paulina,
Lead us from hence; where we may leisurely
Each one demand, and answer to his part
Perform'd in this wide gap of time, since first
We were dissever'd: Hastily lead away.

[Exeunt

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MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

THERE lived in the palace at Messina two ladies, whose names were Hero and Beatrice. Hero was the daughter, and Beatrice the niece, of Leonato, the governor of Messina.

Beatrice was of a lively temper, and loved to divert her cousin Hero, who was of a more serious disposition, with her sprightly sallies. Whatever was going forward was sure to make matter of mirth for the light-hearted Beatrice.

At the time the history of these ladies commences, some young men of high rank in the army, as they were passing through Messina on their return from a war that was just ended, in which they had distinguished themselves by their great bravery, came to visit Leonato. Among these were Don Pedro, the prince of Arragon, and his friend Claudio, who was a lord of Florence; and with them came the wild and witty Benedick, and he was a lord of Padua.

These strangers had been at Messina before, and the hospitable governor introduced them to his daughter and his niece as their old friends and acquaintance.

Benedick, the moment he entered the rcom, began a lively conversation with Leonato and the prince. Beatrice, who liked not to be left out of any discourse, interrupted Benedick with saying, "I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Bencdick; nobody marks you." Benedick was just such another rattle-brain as Beatrice, yet

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