recover, or at all regarding the distress into which they had thrown
Leonato. So hard-hearted had their anger made them.

Benedick remained, and assisted Beatrice to recover Hero from her
swoon, saying, "How does the lady?" "Dead, I think," replied Beatrice
in great agony, for she loved her cousin; and knowing her virtuous
principles, she believed nothing of what she had heard spoken against
her. Not so the poor old father; he believed the story of his child's
shame, and it was piteous to hear him lamenting over her, as she lay
like one dead before him, wishing she might never more open her eyes.

But the ancient friar was a wise man, and full of observation on human
nature, and he had attentively marked the lady's countenance when she
heard herself accused, and noted a thousand blushing shames to start
into her face, and then he saw an angel-like whiteness bear away
those blushes, and in her eye he saw a fire that did belie the error
that the prince did speak against her maiden truth, and he said to
the sorrowing father, "Call me a fool; trust not my reading, nor my
observation; trust not my age, my reverence, nor my calling; if this
sweet lady lie not guiltless here under some biting error."

When Hero had recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen, the
friar said to her, "Lady, what man is he you are accused of?" Hero
replied, "They know that do accuse me; I know of none:" then turning
to Leonato, she said, "O my father, if you can prove that any man has
ever conversed with me at hours unmeet, or that I yesternight changed
words with any creature, refuse me, hate me, torture me to death."

"There is," said the friar, "some strange misunderstanding in the
prince and Claudio;" and then he counselled Leonato, that he should