2424Ben. Praie thee sweete Mistris Margaret, deserue

2425vvell at my hands, by helping mee to the speech of Bea-

2426trice.

120 Much ado about Nothing

2427Mar. Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of

2428my beautie?

2429Bene. In so high a stile Margaret, that no man liuing

2430shall come ouer it, for in most comely truth thou deser-

2431uest it.

2432Mar. To haue no man come ouer me, why, shall I al-

2433waies keepe below staires?

2434Bene. Thy wit is as quicke as the grey-hounds mouth,

2435it catches.

2436Mar. And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which

2437hit, but hurt not.

2438Bene. A most manly wit Margaret, it will not hurt a

2439woman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the

2440bucklers.

2441Mar. Giue vs the swords, wee haue bucklers of our

2442owne.

2443Bene. If you vse them Margaret, you must put in the

2444pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for

2445Maides.

2446Mar. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke

2447hath legges. Exit Margarite.

2448Ben. And therefore will come. The God of loue that

2449sits aboue, and knowes me, and knowes me, how pitti-

2450full I deserue. I meane in singing, but in louing, Lean-

2451der the good swimmer, Troilous the first imploier of

2452pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam car-

2453pet-mongers, whose name yet runne smoothly in the e-

2454uen rode of a blanke verse, why they were neuer so true-

2455ly turned ouer and ouer as my poore selfe in loue: mar-

2456rie I cannot shew it rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no

2457rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent time: for scorne,

2458horne, a hard time: for schoole foole, a babling time:

2459verie ominous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a ri-

2460ming Plannet, for I cannot wooe in festiuall tearmes:

2462sweete Beatrice would'st thou come when I cal'd

2463thee?

2464Beat. Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me.

2465Bene. O stay but till then.

2466Beat. Then, is spoken: fare you well now, and yet ere

2467I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with know-

2468ing what hath past betweene you and Claudio.

2469Bene. Onely foule words, and thereupon I will kisse

2470thee.

2471Beat. Foule words is but foule wind, and foule wind

2472is but foule breath, and foule breath is noisome, there-

2473fore I will depart vnkist.

2474Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right

2475sence, so forcible is thy wit, but I must tell thee plainely,

2476Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I must short-

2477ly heare from him, or I will subscribe him a coward, and

2478I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst

2479thou first fall in loue with me?

2480Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd so

2481politique a state of euill, that they will not admit any

2482good part to intermingle with them: but for which of

2483my good parts did you first suffer loue for me?

2484Bene. Suffer loue! a good epithite, I do suffer loue in-

2485deede, for I loue thee against my will.

2486Beat. In spight of your heart I think, alas poore heart,

2487if you spight it for my sake, I will spight it for yours, for

2488I will neuer loue that which my friend hates.

2489Bened. Thou and I are too wise to wooe peacea-

2490blie.

2491Bea. It appeares not in this confession, there's not one

2492wise man among twentie that will praise himselfe.

2493Bene. An old, an old instance Beatrice, that liu'd in

2494the time of good neighbours, if a man doe not erect in

2495this age his owne tombe ere he dies, hee shall liue no

2496longer in monuments, then the Bels ring, & the Widdow

2497weepes.

2498Beat. And how long is that thinke you?

2499Ben. Question, why an hower in clamour and a quar-

2500ter in rhewme, therfore is it most expedient for the wise,

2501if Don worme (his conscience) finde no impediment to

2502the contrarie, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as

2503I am to my selfe so much for praising my selfe, who I my

2504selfe will beare witnesse is praise worthie, and now tell

2505me, how doth your cosin?

2506Beat. Verie ill.

2507Bene. And how doe you?

2508Beat. Verie ill too.

2510Bene. Serue God, loue me, and mend, there will I leaue

2511you too, for here comes one in haste.

2512Vrs. Madam, you must come to your Vncle, yon-

2513ders old coile at home, it is prooued my Ladie He-

2514ro hath bin falselie accusde, the Prince and Claudio

2515mightilie abusde, and Don Iohn is the author of all, who

2516is fled and gone: will you come presentlie?

2517Beat. Will you go heare this newes Signior?

2518Bene.I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be bu-

2519ried in thy eies: and moreouer, I will goe with thee to

2520thy Vncles. Exeunt.