[The Inside of a Church]
[Enter Claudio, Prince Don Pedro, and three or four with tapers.]
Is this the monument of Leonato?
It is, my lord.
[Reads from a scroll]
Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies.
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,(5)
Gives her fame which never dies.
So the life that died with shame
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Praising her when I am dumb.(10)
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
[Hanging up the scroll.]
Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
Pardon, goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.(15)
Midnight, assist our moan,
Help us to sigh and groan
Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered(20)
Now unto thy bones good night!
Yearly will I do this rite.
- DON PEDRO:
Good morrow, masters. Put your torches out.
The wolves have preyed, and look, the gentle day,(25)
Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
Thanks to you all, and leave us. Fare you well.
Good morrow, masters. Each his several way.
- DON PEDRO:
Come, let us hence and put on other weeds,(30)
And then to Leonato's we will go.
And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds
Than this for whom we rendered up this woe.