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    Act 5, Scene II

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    SCENE II. LEONATO'S garden.

    Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting
    Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at
    my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

    Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

    In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living
    shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou
    deservest it.

    To have no man come over me! why, shall I always
    keep below stairs?

    Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth; it catches.

    And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit,
    but hurt not.

    A most manly wit, Margaret; it will not hurt a
    woman: and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give
    thee the bucklers.

    Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.

    If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the
    pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons for maids.

    Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.

    And therefore will come.



    The god of love,
    That sits above,
    And knows me, and knows me,
    How pitiful I deserve,--
    I mean in singing; but in loving, Leander the good
    swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and
    a whole bookful of these quondam carpet-mangers,
    whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a
    blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned
    over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I
    cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried: I can find
    out no rhyme to 'lady' but 'baby,' an innocent
    rhyme; for 'scorn,' 'horn,' a hard rhyme; for,
    'school,' 'fool,' a babbling rhyme; very ominous
    endings: no, I was not born under a rhyming planet,
    nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

    Enter BEATRICE

    Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?

    Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.

    O, stay but till then!

    'Then' is spoken; fare you well now: and yet, ere
    I go, let me go with that I came; which is, with
    knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.

    Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.

    Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but
    foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I
    will depart unkissed.

    Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense,
    so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee
    plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either
    I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe
    him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me for
    which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

    For them all together; which maintained so politic
    a state of evil that they will not admit any good
    part to intermingle with them. But for which of my
    good parts did you first suffer love for me?

    Suffer love! a good epithet! I do suffer love
    indeed, for I love thee against my will.

    In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart!
    If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for
    yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

    Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

    It appears not in this confession: there's not one
    wise man among twenty that will praise himself.

    An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in
    the lime of good neighbours. If a man do not erect
    in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live
    no longer in monument than the bell rings and the
    widow weeps.

    And how long is that, think you?

    Question: why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in
    rheum: therefore is it most expedient for the
    wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no
    impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his
    own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for
    praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is
    praiseworthy: and now tell me, how doth your cousin?

    Very ill.

    And how do you?

    Very ill too.

    Serve God, love me and mend. There will I leave
    you too, for here comes one in haste.

    Enter URSULA

    Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's old
    coil at home: it is proved my Lady Hero hath been
    falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily
    abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is
    fed and gone. Will you come presently?

    Will you go hear this news, signior?

    I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be
    buried in thy eyes; and moreover I will go with
    thee to thy uncle's.

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