There, Leonato, take her back again. Give not this rotten orange to your friend. She’s but the sign and semblance of her honor. Behold how like a maid she blushes here! (A4,S1)
O Fate! Take not away thy heavy hand! Death is the fairest cover for her shame That may be wished for. (A4,S1)
Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away. Hero was in this manner accused, in this very manner refused, and upon the grief of this, suddenly died. (A4,S2)