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    Act 3, Scene IV

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    Chapter 10
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    SCENE IV. HERO's apartment.

    Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA
    HERO
    Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire
    her to rise.

    URSULA
    I will, lady.

    HERO
    And bid her come hither.

    URSULA
    Well.

    Exit

    MARGARET
    Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

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

    MARGARET
    By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your
    cousin will say so.

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

    MARGARET
    I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair
    were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare
    fashion, i' faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan's
    gown that they praise so.

    HERO
    O, that exceeds, they say.

    MARGARET
    By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of
    yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with
    silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves,
    and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel:
    but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent
    fashion, yours is worth ten on 't.

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

    MARGARET
    'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

    HERO
    Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

    MARGARET
    Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not
    marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord
    honourable without marriage? I think you would have
    me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' and bad
    thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend
    nobody: is there any harm in 'the heavier for a
    husband'? None, I think, and it be the right husband
    and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not
    heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.

    Enter BEATRICE

    HERO
    Good morrow, coz.

    BEATRICE
    Good morrow, sweet Hero.

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

    BEATRICE
    I am out of all other tune, methinks.

    MARGARET
    Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a
    burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.

    BEATRICE
    Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your
    husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall
    lack no barns.

    MARGARET
    O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

    BEATRICE
    'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; tis time you were
    ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!

    MARGARET
    For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

    BEATRICE
    For the letter that begins them all, H.

    MARGARET
    Well, and you be not turned Turk, there's no more
    sailing by the star.

    BEATRICE
    What means the fool, trow?

    MARGARET
    Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!

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

    BEATRICE
    I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell.

    MARGARET
    A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.

    BEATRICE
    O, God help me! God help me! how long have you
    professed apprehension?

    MARGARET
    Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?

    BEATRICE
    It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your
    cap. By my troth, I am sick.

    MARGARET
    Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus,
    and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

    HERO
    There thou prickest her with a thistle.

    BEATRICE
    Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in
    this Benedictus.

    MARGARET
    Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I
    meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance
    that I think you are in love: nay, by'r lady, I am
    not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list
    not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think,
    if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you
    are in love or that you will be in love or that you
    can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and
    now is he become a man: he swore he would never
    marry, and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats
    his meat without grudging: and how you may be
    converted I know not, but methinks you look with
    your eyes as other women do.

    BEATRICE
    What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?

    MARGARET
    Not a false gallop.

    Re-enter URSULA

    URSULA
    Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior
    Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the
    town, are come to fetch you to church.

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

    Exeunt
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