Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuff'd with all
honourable
virtues.
Beat. It is so indeed. He is no less than a stuff'd man; but
for
the stuffing--well, we are all mortal.
Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of
merry
war betwixt Signior Benedick and her. They never meet but
there's
a skirmish of wit between them.
Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that! In our last conflict four
of
his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man
govern'd
with one; so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm,
let
him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse;
for
it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a
reasonable
creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new
sworn brother.
Mess. Is't possible?
Beat. Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the
fashion
of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.
Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
Beat. No. An he were, I would burn my study. But I pray you,
who is
his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a
voyage with him to the devil?
Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
Beat. O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease! He is
sooner
caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad.
God
help the noble Claudio! If he have caught the Benedick, it
will
cost him a thousand pound ere 'a be cured.
Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady.
Beat. Do, good friend.
Leon. You will never run mad, niece.
Beat. No, not till a hot January.
Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, and John the
Bastard.
Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet your trouble?
The
fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.
Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your
Grace;
for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you
depart
from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is
your
daughter.
Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so.
Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you ask'd her?
Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
Pedro. You have it full, Benedick. We may guess by this what
you
are, being a man. Truly the lady fathers herself. Be happy,
lady;
for you are like an honourable father.
Bene. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his
head
on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.
Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior
Benedick.
Nobody marks you.
Bene. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
Beat. Is it possible Disdain should die while she hath such
meet
food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must
convert
to disdain if you come in her presence.
Bene. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved
of
all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my
heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.
Beat. A dear happiness to women! They would else have been
troubled
with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am
of
your humour for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow
than a man swear he loves me.
Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some
gentleman
or other shall scape a predestinate scratch'd face.
Beat. Scratching could not make it worse an 'twere such a face
as
yours were.
Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
Beat. A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so
good a
"Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms."
More Qutoes from William Shakespeare