And here's another
Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Nothing certainer:
One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
And surely as I live, I am a maid.

And when I lived, I was your other wife:
Unmasking
And when you loved, you were my other husband.

They know that do accuse me; I know none:
If I know more of any man alive
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,
Prove you that any man with me conversed
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintain'd ...

I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.

Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
With any just reproach?

O, God defend me! how am I beset!
What kind of catechising call you this?

True! O God!

Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?

And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?

None, my lord.

I do.

Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.

There thou prickest her with a thistle.

These gloves the count sent me; they are an
excellent perfume.

Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

Good morrow, coz.

Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is
exceeding heavy.

O, that exceeds, they say.

My cousin's a fool, and thou art another: I'll wear
none but this.

No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.

And bid her come hither.

Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire
her to rise.

If it proves so, then loving goes by haps:
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Why, every day, to-morrow. Come, go in:
I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel
Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.

Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.

He is the only man of Italy.
Always excepted my dear Claudio.

No; rather I will go to Benedick
And counsel him to fight against his passion.
And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with: one doth not know
How much an ill word may empoison liking.

No, not to be so odd and from all fashions
As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable:
But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like ...

Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
She would swear the gentleman should be her sister;
If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique,
Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ...

O god of love! I know he doth deserve
As much as may be yielded to a man:
But Nature never framed a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice;
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on, and her wit
Values ...

They did entreat me to acquaint her of it;
But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick,
To wish him wrestle with affection,
And never to let Beatrice know of it.

So says the prince and my new-trothed lord.

Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
Approaching the bower
No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
I know her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggerds of the rock.

Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick.
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit:
My talk to thee must be how Benedick
Is ...

Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor;
There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
Proposing with the prince and Claudio:
Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula
Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse
Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us;
And bid her ...

I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my
cousin to a good husband.

Why, then, your visor should be thatched.

When I like your favour; for God defend the lute
should be like the case!

I may say so, when I please.

So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing,
I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away.

He is of a very melancholy disposition.

My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.