With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.

Therefore they thought it good for hear a play And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.

I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am by seeming otherwise.

(Pedro:) Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you for out o' question you were born in a merry hour. (Beatrice:) No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.

(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. (Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care.

For the heavens, he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.