Page 1406 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
Trust not my reading nor my observations,
Which with experimental seal doth warrant [165]
The tenor of my book; trust not my age,

My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here
Under some biting error.

LEONATO
Friar, it cannot be.

Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left [170]
Is that she will not add to her damnation
A sin of perjury; she not denies it;
Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse
That which appears in proper nakedness?

FRIAR
Lady, what man is he you are accused of? [175]

HERO
They know that do accuse me; I know none.
If I know more of any man alive.
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,

Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,
Prove you that any man with me conversed [180]
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintained the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!

FRIAR
There is some strange misprision in the Princes.

BENEDICK
Two of them have the very bent of honour; [185]
And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
The practice of it lives in John the Bastard,

Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies.