How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

The former Hero! Hero that is dead!

Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

Good morrow to this fair assembly.

Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds;
And then to Leonato's we will go.

Good morrow, masters; put your torches out:
The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day,
Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
Thanks to you all, and leave us: fare you well.

We will not fail.

By my soul, nor I:
And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight
That he'll enjoin me to.

He is composed and framed of treachery:
And fled he is upon this villany.

But did my brother set thee on to this?

Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?

Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus
bound to your answer? this learned constable is
too cunning to be understood: what's your offence?

First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I
ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why
they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay
to their charge.

Officers, what offence have these men done?

How now? two of my brother's men bound! Borachio
one!

But, soft you, let me be: pluck up, my heart, and
be sad. Did he not say, my brother was fled?

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his
doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!

And hath challenged thee.

He is in earnest.

But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on
the sensible Benedick's head?

Yea, that she did: but yet, for all that, an if she
did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly:
the old man's daughter told us all.

I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the
other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit: 'True,'
said she, 'a fine little one.' 'No,' said I, 'a
great wit:' 'Right,' says she, 'a great gross one.'
'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit:' 'Just,' said she, 'it
hurts ...

What, a feast, a feast?

By this light, he changes more and more: I think
he be angry indeed.

As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou
sick, or angry?

Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?

Leonato and his brother. What thinkest thou? Had
we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them.

Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part
almost a fray.

See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.

I will not hear you.

Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience.
My heart is sorry for your daughter's death:
But, on my honour, she was charged with nothing
But what was true and very full of proof.

You say not right, old man.

Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.

We have some haste, Leonato.

Good den, good den.

Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour,
Myself, my brother and this grieved count
Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night
Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window
Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
Confess'd ...

What should I speak?
I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
To link my dear friend to a common stale.

Nothing, unless you render her again.

O day untowardly turned!

And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join
with thee to disgrace her.

I will not think it.

Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero:

Why, what's the matter?

You know he does.

What's the matter?

In private?

Good den, brother.

For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.

She shall be buried with her face upwards.

That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.