Act 3, Scene IV - Page 2

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