'Pardon, Goddess of the night, Those that slew thy virgin knight; For the which, with songs of woe, Round about her tomb they go. Midnight, assist our moan; Help us to sigh and groan, Heavily, heavily: Graves, yawn, and yield your dead, Till death be uttered, Heavenly, heavenly.' Claud. Now unto thy bones good night! Yearly will I do this rite. D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches out: The wolves have prey'd: and look, the gentle day, 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. Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way. D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds; And then to Leonato's we will go. Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue speeds Than this, for whom we rend'red up this woe! [Exeunt.] Scene IV.--A Room in Leonato's House [Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Ursula, Friar, and Hero.] Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Leon. So are the Prince and Claudio, who accus'd her, Upon the error that you heard debated: But Margaret was in some fault for this; Although against her will, as it appears In the true course of all the question. Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd: The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour To visit me:--You know your office, brother: You must be father to your brother's daughter, And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.] Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance. Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. Friar. To do what, signior? Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them. Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: 'T is most true. Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from me, >From Claudio, and the prince. But what's your will? Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical: But, for my will, my will is, your good will May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd In the estate of honourable marriage; In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. Leon. My heart is with your liking. Friar. And my help. (Here comes the Prince and Claudio.) [Enter Don Pedro and Claudio with Attendants. ] D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio; We here attend you. Are you yet determin'd To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope. Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar ready. [Exit Antonio.] D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?