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Much Ado About Nothing

Act IV, Scene 1

A church.
 
[Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, LEONATO, FRIAR FRANCIS, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, HERO, BEATRICE, and Attendants]
 
LEONATO
Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties afterwards.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.
 
CLAUDIO
No.
 
LEONATO
To be married to her: friar, you come to marry her.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.
 
HERO
I do.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, charge you, on your souls, to utter it.
 
CLAUDIO
Know you any, Hero?
 
HERO
None, my lord.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
Know you any, count?
 
LEONATO
I dare make his answer, none.
 
CLAUDIO
O, what men dare do. what men may do. what men daily do, not knowing what they do.
 
BENEDICK
How now. interjections? Why, then, some be of laughing, as, ah, ha, he.
 
CLAUDIO
        ,           T   Tx    T        ,          ,
      Stand thee | by friar, Fa|ther, by | your leave,
            ,           ,         ,       ,        ,
      Will you | with free | and un|constrain|ed soul
        T   T   T      ,           ,        oo
      Give me this | maid your | daughter?|
 
LEONATO
           ,      ,        ,          ,         ,
      As free|ly son | as God | did give | her me.
 
CLAUDIO
            ,         ,        ,          ,            ,
      And what | have I | to give | you back,| whose^worth
             ,       ,            ,         ,          ,
      May* coun|terpoise | this rich | and pre|cious gift?
 
DON PEDRO
       ,            ,         ,       ,       ,
      Nothing,| unless | you ren|der her | again.
 
CLAUDIO
                ,           ,         ,       ,        ,
      Sweet* prince,| you learn | me no|ble thank|fulness:
        ,        ,       ,          ,       ,
      There Le|ona|to, take | her back | again,
            ,          ,       ,       ,           ,
      Give^not | this rot|ten or|ange to | your friend;
             ,          ,         ,     ,     2       ,
      She's^but | the sign | and sem|blance of her | honor:
          ,     T    T  .   T          ,        ,
      Behold | how like a maid | she blush|es here!
          ,       ,     ,         ,         ,
      O what | autho|rity | and show | of truth
           ,        ,     ,          ,        ,
      Can cun|ning sin | cover | itself | withal!
             ,           ,         ,       ,    ,
      Comes^not | that blood,| as mo|dest ev|idence,
          ,        ,       ,         ,        2      ,
      To wit|ness sim|ple vir|tue? Would | you not^swear
       ,              ,           ,          ,        ,
      All you*| that see | her, that | she were | a maid,
       T   T    . T   2    ,          ,         ,
      By these exter|ior shows?| But she | is none;
            ,           ,            , ,   2    ,
      She knows | the heat | of a / luxu|rious bed:
            ,          ,            ,   ,     ,
      Her blush | is guilt|iness,/ not mo|desty.
 
LEONATO
        ,             ,         ,
      What do | you mean,| my lord?
 
CLAUDIO
                                     ,    2      ,
                                    Not to be | married,
       ,         ,         ,         2     ,       ,
      Not to | knit my | soul to | an approved | wanton.
 
LEONATO
        ,         T    T  T               ,    ,
      Dear my | lord, if you | in your / own proof,
            ,     ,             ,         ,         ,
      Have^van|quished the | resis|tance of | her youth,
            ,        ,        ,        ,    ,
      And made | defeat | of her | virgin|ity.
 
CLAUDIO
          ,          ,           ,     ,  2         ,
      I know | what you | would say:| if I have | known her,
       ,          ,          ,       ,         ,      ,
      You will | say, she | did em|brace me | as a | husband,
       ,    2    ,  2       .     T   T   T     ,   2 ,
      And so ex|tenuate* | the 'forehand sin:| No Leo|nato,  (hex with prev)
          x       ,        ,           T   T    T
      I never | tempted | her with | word too large,
           ,      ,        ,        ,          ,
      But as | a bro|ther to | his sis|ter, showed
        ,           ,    ,         ,       ,
      Bashful | sincer|ity | and come|ly love.
 
HERO
             ,       ,      ,      ,        ,
      And seemed | I e|ver oth|erwise | to you?
 
CLAUDIO
       ,              ,       ,          ,            x
      Out on | thee seem|ing, I | will write | against it,
            ,        ,       ,  ,           ,
      You seem | to me | as Di|an in | her orb,
            ,         ,        ,     T   .  T   T
      As chaste | as is | the bud | ere it be blown:
           ,          ,       ,    2     ,          ,
      But you | are more | intem|perate in | your blood,
            ,       ,          ,         ,    ,
      Than Ve|nus, or | those pam|pered an|imals,
             ,        ,       ,     ,   ,
      That rage | in sav|age sen|sual|ity.
 
HERO
                ,    ,      ,              ,          ,
      Is my / lord well,| that he | doth^speak | so wide?
 
LEONATO
                ,            ,          ,
      Sweet* prince,| why* speak | not^you?
 
DON PEDRO
                                                    ,         ,
                                            What should | I speak?
          ,         ,          ,           ,       ,
      I stand | dishon|ored, that | have gone | about,
           ,         ,       ,           ,        ,
      To link | my dear | friend to | a com|mon stale.
 
LEONATO
            ,        T     Tx     T      ,         ,
      Are these | things spoken, or | do I | but dream?
 
DON JOHN
       ,                 x           ,        T    T    T
      Sir, they | are spoken,| and these | things are true.
 
BENEDICK
             ,      T    T  .  T
      This looks | not like a nup|tial.
 
HERO
                                         ,        ,
                                       True,| O* God!
 
CLAUDIO
       ,   ,       T   T   T
      Leo|nato,| stand I here?
      <-     ,            ,          ,          ,        ,        o
        Is this || the prince?| Is this | the prince|'s bro|ther?
       .   T    T   T        ,          ,         ,
      Is this face He|ro's? Are | our^eyes | our^own?
 
LEONATO
       T    T   .  T         ,     ,             ,
      All this is so:| but what | of this,| my lord?
 
CLAUDIO
       ,    2        T   T    T    ,    2         ,
      Let me but | move one ques|tion to your | daughter,
       T    T   T     ,   2           ,       x
      And, by that | fatherly | and kind|ly power,
        ,          ,    2       ,         ,        ,
      That you | have in her,| bid her | answer | truly.
 
LEONATO
           ,           ,         ,         ,         ,
      I charge | thee do | so*, as | thou art | my child.
 
HERO
          ,        ,        ,       ,      ,
      O* God | defend | me how | am I | beset,
        T    T   .  T     ,        ,          ,
      What kind of cat|echis|ing call | you this?
 
CLAUDIO
           ,         ,       ,      ,          ,
      To make | you an|swer tru|ly to | your name.
 
HERO
               ,   ,      ,          ,           ,
      Is it / not He|ro? Who | can blot | that^name
           ,      ,         ,
      With a|ny just | reproach?
 
CLAUDIO
                               x       ,         ,
                             Marry | that can | Hero, (overlap)
       ,  2     ,          ,        ,        ,
      Hero it|self can | blot out^|Hero's | virtue.
             ,         ,      ,               ,       ,
      What* man | was he,| talked with | you yes|ternight,
       ,             ,   T   .  T      T          ,
      Out at | your win|dow betwixt twelve | and one?
           ,        ,        ,     ,            ,
      Now^if | you are | a maid,| answer | to this.
 
HERO
           ,           ,    ,              ,         ,
      I talked | with no | man at | that hour | my lord.
 
DON PEDRO
       ,      2       T   T   Tx      ,   ,
      Why then^are | you no maiden.| Leo|nato,
       2    ,      ,           ,     x          ,
      I am sor|ry you | must^hear:| upon mine^|honor,
          ,        ,         ,           ,        ,
      Myself,| my bro|ther, and | this griev|ed count
           ,           ,           x         T    T    T
      Did see | her, hear | her, at that | hour last night,
        ,      2     ,  2      ,         ,        ,
      Talk with a | ruffian | at her | chamber | window*,
            ,        ,      ,             ,          x
      Who hath | indeed | most like | a libe|ral villain,
            ,           ,        ,         ,          ,
      Confessed | the vile | encoun|ters they | have had
          ,         ,         ,
      A thous|and times | in sec|ret.
 
DON JOHN
       ,    ___      ,         ,            ,          ,    oo
      Fie,| fie,|| they are | not to | be named | my lord,|
       ,           ,       ,
      Not to | be spo|ken of,
      <-  T    .  T    T      ,      ,          ,       o
        There is not chas||tity | enough | in lang|uage,
      <-     ,         ,          x             ,     ,        ,
        Without || offense | to utter | them: Thus | pretty | lady
       2    ,      ,          ,        ,       ,
      I am sor|ry for | thy much | misgov|ernment.
 
CLAUDIO
          ,       ,       ,      ,            ,
      O* He|ro! What | a He|ro hadst | thou been
           ,         ,        ,       ,            ,
      If half | thy out|ward gra|ces had | been placed
         ,            ,            ,        ,         ,
      About | thy thoughts | and coun|sels of | thy heart?
            ,            ,           ,           ,          ,
      But fare | thee* well,| most^foul,| most^fair,| farewell,
              ,       ,         x     2    ,    ,
      Thou* pure | impie|ty, and im|pious pu|rity,
            ,           ,        ,          ,          ,
      For thee | I'll lock | up^all | the gates | of love,
           ,       ,    ,              ,         ,
      And on | my eye|lids shall | conjec|ture hang,
       .   T   T    T      ,        ,           ,
      To turn all beau|ty in|to thoughts | of harm,
           ,       ,          ,        ,     ,
      And ne|ver shall | it more | be gra|cious.
 
LEONATO
            ,     T     Tx     T        ,          ,
      Hath no | man's dagger here | a point | for me?
 
[HERO swoons]
 
BEATRICE
            ,          ,         ,           ,          ,
      Why* how | now* cou|sin, where|fore* sink | you down?
 
DON JOHN
        ,      2      T    T      T       T    T   .   T
      Come, let us | go: These things | come thus to light,
       ,             ,        ,
      Smother | her spi|rits up.
 
[Exeunt DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, and CLAUDIO]
 
BENEDICK
                                      ,          ,
                                How doth | the lady?
 
BEATRICE
        ,        T      T    Tx
      Dead I | think, help uncle,
      <- ,          ,       ,            ,   ,     ,     ,
        Hero,| why He||ro, Un|cle, Sig/nior Ben|edick,| Friar.
 
LEONATO
          ,      T   T  . T         ,       ,
      O Fate!| Take not away | thy hea|vy hand,
        ,              ,       ,      ,          ,
      Death is | the fair|est co|ver for | her shame
            ,          ,
      That may | be wished | for.
 
BEATRICE
                                  ,     T     Tx    T     2->
                                 How | now, cousin He||ro?
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
            ,        ,
      Have com|fort la|dy.
 
LEONATO
                            ,      T    T   T
                          Dost | thou look up?
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
      ___     ,            T    T   T    oo
      Yea,| wherefore | should she not?|
 
LEONATO
        ,                ,         ,       ,        ,
      Wherefore?| Why* doth | not eve|ry earth|ly thing
       T    T   . T           ,           ,       ,
      Cry shame upon | her? Could | she here | deny
           ,       ,         ,       ,         ,
      The sto|ry that | is prin|ted in | her blood?
       .  T    T   T      ,        ,            ,
      Do not live He|ro, do | not ope | thine^eyes:
       ,             ,             ,            ,       ,
      For, did | I think | thou wouldst | not quick|ly die,
              ,          x              ,        ,           ,
      Thought^I | thy spirits | were strong|er than | thy shames,
          ,      ,              ,    ,    2      ,
      Myself | would on | the rear|ward of re|proaches
         ,     2        T      T    T       ,         ,
      Strike at thy | life. Grieved I,| I* had | but one?
        ,             ,        ,       ,          ,
      Chid I*,| for that | at fru|gal na|ture's frame?
      .  T   T    T         ,          ,       ,
      O^one too much | by thee:| why* had | I one?
           ,      ,            ,      ,        ,
      Why^ev|er wast | thou* love|ly in | my eyes?
       ,           ,          ,     ,       ,
      Why had | I not | with cha|rita|ble hand
        ,          ,         ,      ,        ,
      Took up | a beg|gar's is|sue at | my gates,
       T     T      T          ,           ,    ,
      Who smeared thus,| and mired | with in|famy,
          ,            ,     ,   ,                 ,
      I might | have said,| no part / of it | is mine:
             ,         ,       x            T  T     T
      This^shame | derives | itself from | unknown loins,
            ,          ,        ,           ,         ,
      But mine,| and mine | I loved,| and mine | I praised,
            ,         ,         ,           ,          ,
      And mine | that I | was proud | on* mine | so* much,
           ,       ,     ,    2     T   T    T
      That I | myself,| was to my|self not mine:
       ,  2         ,          ,       ,          x
      Valuing | of her,| why* she,| O she | is fallen
       ,        ,        ,                 ,   ,
      Into | a pit | of ink,| that the / wide sea
             ,      T   T   .   T          ,        ,
      Hath drops | too few to wash | her clean | again,
       .    T   T   T         ,           ,        ,
      And salt too lit|tle, which | may* sea|son give
                 ,    ,        ,
      To her / foul tain|ted flesh.  \\
 
BENEDICK
Sir, sir, be patient: for my part, I am so attired in wonder, I know not what to say.
 
BEATRICE
         ,        ,        ,       ,       ,
      O^on | my soul | my cou|sin is | belied.
 
BENEDICK
       ,           ,         ,    Tx      T    T
      Lady,| were you | her bed|fellow* last night?
 
BEATRICE
       ,  ,            ,          . T    T    T
      No tru/ly: not^|although*| until last night,
          ,            ,            ,         ,   ,
      I have | this twelve|month* been | her bed|fellow.
 
LEONATO
            ,           ,          ,          ,        ,
      Confirmed,| confirmed.| O* that | is strong|er made
             ,        ,            ,          ,         ,
      Which was | before | barred^up | with ribs | of iron.
                   ,    ,       ,          ,   2   ,
      Would the / two prin|ces lie,| and Clau|dio lie,
            ,          ,     ,    ,         2        ,
      Who loved | her so,| that speak/ing of her | foulness,
            x            T      T     T          ,         ,
      Washed it with | tears? Hence from | her, let | her die.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
Hear me a little, for I have only been silent so long and given way unto this course of fortune, by noting of the lady, I have marked.
          ,         ,        ,    ,    ,
      A thou|sand blush|ing ap|pari|tions,
           ,        ,         ,        ,        ,   2       ,
      To start | into | her face,| a thou|sand in|nocent shames,
          ,       ,          ,    . T    T     T      o
      In an|gel white|ness bear | away those blush|es,   (hex with prev)
           ,        ,            ,         ,        ,
      And in | her eye | there hath | appeared | a fire
           ,         ,        ,            ,        ,
      To burn | the er|rors that | these prin|ces hold
          ,          ,        ,       ,           ,
      Against | her mai|den truth.| Call me | a fool,
             ,         ,        ,        ,     ,       ->
      Trust^not | my read|ing, nor | my ob|serva||tions,
        ,         2   ,    ,        ,          ,       2->
      Which | with exper|imen|tal seal | doth war||rant
           ,                ,     ,    ,        ,
      The ten|or of my // book: trust not | my age,
           ,          ,         ,       ,    ,
      My reve|rence, cal|ling, nor | divi|nity,
       .   T    T    T     ,          ,          ,
      If this sweet la|dy lie | not^guilt|less here,
       ,   2        ,        ,
      Under some | biting | error.
 
LEONATO
       ,          ,       ,
      Friar,| it can|not be:   (tri with prev)
             ,           ,          ,           ,           ,
      Thou seest | that all | the grace | that she | hath left,
       ,          ,          ,   ,      2         ,
      Is, that | she will | not add / to her dam|nation,
         ,        ,     ,         ,          x
      A sin | of per|jury,| she* not | denies it:
             ,       T    T   .  T       ,        ,
      Why seekst | thou then to co|ver with | excuse,
        ,              ,          ,      ,      ,
      That which | appears | in prop|er nak|edness?
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
       ,       ,   ,             ,     2     ,
      Lady,| what man / is he | you are ac|cused of?
 
HERO
             ,      ,    2     ,       T   T    T
      They know | that do ac|cuse me,| I know none:
         ,          ,       ,     ,       ,
      If I | know more | of a|ny man | alive
             ,           ,        ,        ,     ,
      Than that | which^mai|den mode|sty doth | warrant,
       ,     2       T    T   T      ,        ,      ->
      Let all my*| sins lack mer|cy. O | my fath||er,
        ,        2     ,     ,          ,         ,
      Prove | you that a|ny man | with me | conversed,
           ,        ,               ,  ,       ,
      At hours | unmeet,| or that / I yes|ternight
             ,            ,          ,          ,      ,       2->
      Maintained | the change | of words | with a|ny crea||ture,
          ,          ,         ,        ,        ,
      Refuse | me, hate | me, tor|ture me | to death.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
                   ,     ,       ,   ,        2        ,
      There is / some strange | mispris/ion in the | princes.
 
BENEDICK
       ,    2         ,         ,       ,        ,
      Two of them | have the | very | bent of | honor;
           ,          ,        ,       ,         ,
      And if | their wis|doms be | misled | in this:
            ,         x       ,          ,         ,
      The prac|tise of it | lives in | John the | bastard,
              ,        ,         ,         ,      ,
      Whose spir|its toil | in frame | of vil|lanies.
 
LEONATO
      T   T   T     ,          ,           ,     2
      I know not:| If they | speak but | truth of her,
              ,             ,     ,     2         ,          ,
      These^hands | shall tear | her: if they | wrong her | honor,
            ,        ,          ,       ,    ,
      The proud|est of | them shall | well hear / of it.
        ,              ,          ,            ,          ,
      Time hath | not^yet | so* dried | this blood | of mine,
           ,        ,     ,         ,     ,
      Nor^age | so^eat | up my | inven|tion,
           ,         ,      ,   ,               ,
      Nor for|tune made | such ha/voc of | my means,
       ,        T    T    T      2     ,          ,
      Nor my | bad life reft | me so much | of friends,
            ,            ,       ,          ,        ,
      But they | shall find,| awaked | in such | a kind,
               ,           ,         ,    ,        ,
      Both^strength | of limb,| and po|licy | of mind,
        ,    ,        ,            ,           ,
      Abi|lity | in means,| and choice | of friends,
           ,        ,           ,
      To quit | me of | them through|ly.
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
                                          ,        ,
                                        Pause | awhile:
           ,         ,        ,         ,          ,
      And let | my coun|sel sway | you in | this case,
             ,         ,          ,          ,          ,
      Your daugh|ter here | the prin|cess (left | for dead)
       ,           ,         ,            ,   ,
      Let her | awhile | be se|cretly*/ kept in,
           ,        ,         ,         ,        ,
      And pub|lish it | that she | is dead | indeed:
            ,        ,        ,     ,    ,
      Maintain | a mour|ning os|tenta|tion,
           ,         ,           ,   ,     ,
      And on | your fam|ily's*/ old mon|ument,
        T    T   .  T     ,               ,    ,
      Hang mournful^e|pitaphs,| and do / all rites,
            ,      ,     ,        ,    ,
      That ap|pertain | unto | a bu|rial.
 
LEONATO
        ,              ,         ,      ,               ,
      What shall | become | of this?| What will | this^do?
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
       ,             ,     ,               ,      2    ,
      Marry | this^well | carried,| shall^on | her^behalf,
         ,     ,               ,                 ,    ,
      Change slan/der to | remorse,| that is / some good,
           ,                 ,   ,                ,       ,
      But not | for that / dream I | on this / strange course,
           ,              ,    ,          ,        ,
      But on | this tra/vail look | for grea|ter birth:
       ,   ,                ,         ,          ,
      She dy/ing, as | it must | so* be | maintained,
        ,         ,         ,         ,        ,
      Upon | the in|stant that | she was | accused,
             ,      ,        ,        ,        ,
      Shall be | lamen|ted, pit|ied, and | excused
          ,       ,       ,        ,          ,
      Of eve|ry hear|er: for | it so | falls^out,
             ,         ,         ,      ,             ,
      That what | we have,| we prize | not to | the worth,
         ,             x          ,        ,           ,
      Whiles we | enjoy it;| but be|ing lacked | and lost,
             ,         ,         ,        ,         ,
      Why* then | we rack | the val|ue, then | we find
           ,        ,        ,                ,      x
      The vir|tue that | posses|sion would / not show us
         ,              ,     ,     2       ,           ,  2
      Whiles it | was ours,| so will it | fare with | Claudio:
            ,           ,          ,    . T   T    T
      When^he | shall hear | she died | upon his words,
         2  ,    ,         ,            ,        ,
      The ide|a of | her life | shall sweet|ly creep
       ,  2       ,       ,    ,    ,
      Into his | study | of i|magi|nation,
           ,       ,      ,      ,         ,
      And eve|ry love|ly or|gan of | her life,
              ,       ,       2     ,     ,          ,
      Shall come | appar|elled in more | precious | habit:
             ,       ,     ,          ,         ,
      More* mo|ving del|icate,| and full | of life,
       ,          ,          ,    ,             ,
      Into | the eye | and pros|pect of | his soul
             ,          ,         ,      ,               ,
      Than when | she lived | indeed:| then shall | he mourn,
          ,      ,          ,    ,    2       ,
      If ev|er love | had inte|rest in his | liver,
            ,     T  T   T     ,      ,
      And wish | he had not | so ac|cused her:
       ,                 ,           ,    ,        ,
      No, though | he thought | his ac|cusa|tion true:
            ,        ,         ,      ,             ,
      Let^this | be so,| and doubt | not but | success
             ,       ,       ,        ,        ,
      Will fash|ion the | event | in bet|ter shape,
           ,        ,         ,         ,      ,
      Than I | can lay | it down | in like|lihood.
                ,   ,          ,        ,          ,
      But if / all aim | but this | be lev|elled false,
           ,     ,       ,        ,        ,
      The sup|posi|tion of | the la|dy's death,
              ,          ,       ,        ,    ,
      Will quench | the won|der of | her in|famy.
       ,    2       T   T    T     ,     2      ,
      And if it | sort not well,| you may con|ceal her,
           ,        ,          ,       ,    ,      2->
      As best | befits | her woun|ded rep|uta||tion,
           ,       ,        ,       ,         ,
      In some | reclu|sive and | reli|gious life,
       ,             ,       T       T    .   T     ,
      Out of | all^eyes,| tongues, minds and in|juries.
 
BENEDICK
       ,     3 3   ,      ,          x        ,
      Signior Leo|nato,| let the | friar ad|vise you:  ??
             ,           ,        ,       ,          ,
      And though | you know | my in|wardness | and love
          ,      ,     ,  2         ,           ,  2
      Is ve|ry much | unto the | prince and | Claudio,
       ,              ,      ,          ,         ,
      Yet, by*| mine^ho|nor, I | will deal | in this,
          ,      ,         ,       ,          ,
      As sec|retly | and just|ly, as | your soul
         ,       2        ,
      Should with your | body.
 
LEONATO
                                x              ,         ,
                              Being that | I flow | in grief,
            ,         ,           ,
      The smal|lest twine | may lead | me.  \\
 
FRIAR FRANCIS
             ,        ,         ,      ,     ,
      'Tis well | consen|ted, pres|ently | away,
                  ,      ,        ,                ,           ,
      For to / strange sores,| strangely | they strain | the cure,
        T   Tx    T         ,          ,        ,
      Come lady, die | to live,| this wed|ding day
           ,        ,          ,            ,       3   3    ,
      Perhaps | is but | prolonged,| have* pa|tience and endure.  ??
 
[Exeunt all but BENEDICK and BEATRICE]
 
BENEDICK
Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
 
BEATRICE
Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
 
BENEDICK
I will not desire that.
 
BEATRICE
You have no reason; I do it freely.
 
BENEDICK
Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
 
BEATRICE
Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her.
 
BENEDICK
Is there any way to show such friendship?
 
BEATRICE
A very even way, but no such friend.
 
BENEDICK
May a man do it?
 
BEATRICE
It is a man's office, but not yours.
 
BENEDICK
I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?
 
BEATRICE
As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
 
BENEDICK
By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
 
BEATRICE
Do not swear, and eat it.
 
BENEDICK
I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.
 
BEATRICE
Will you not eat your word?
 
BENEDICK
With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.
 
BEATRICE
Why, then, God forgive me.
 
BENEDICK
What offense, sweet Beatrice?
 
BEATRICE
You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you.
 
BENEDICK
And do it with all thy heart.
 
BEATRICE
I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
 
BENEDICK
Come, bid me do any thing for thee.
 
BEATRICE
Kill Claudio.
 
BENEDICK
Ha. not for the wide world.
 
BEATRICE
You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
 
BENEDICK
Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
 
BEATRICE
I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in you: nay, I pray you, let me go.
 
BENEDICK
Beatrice,--
 
BEATRICE
In faith, I will go.
 
BENEDICK
We'll be friends first.
 
BEATRICE
You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.
 
BENEDICK
Is Claudio thine enemy?
 
BEATRICE
Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? O that I were a man. What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands; and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour, --O God, that I were a man. I would eat his heart in the market-place.
 
BENEDICK
Hear me, Beatrice,--
 
BEATRICE
Talk with a man out at a window. A proper saying.
 
BENEDICK
Nay, but, Beatrice,--
 
BEATRICE
Sweet Hero. She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.
 
BENEDICK
Beat--
 
BEATRICE
Princes and counties. Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant, surely. O that I were a man for his sake. or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake. But manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.
 
BENEDICK
Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
 
BEATRICE
Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
 
BENEDICK
Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?
 
BEATRICE
Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.
 
BENEDICK
Enough, I am engaged; I will challenge him. I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your cousin: I must say she is dead: and so, farewell.
 
[Exeunt]

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