Leon.
[249] Being that I flow in grief,
250 The smallest twine may lead me.
Friar. ’Tis well consented: presently away;
For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.
Come, lady, die to live: this wedding-day
[254] Perhaps is but prolong’d: have patience and endure. [Exeunt all but Benedick and Beatrice.
[255] Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
Bene. I will not desire that.