By my troth, it'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.
Marg.
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 dutchess of Milan's
gown, that they praise so.
Hero.
O, that exceeds, they say.
Marg.
By my troth, it's but a night-gown in respect
of yours: Cloth of gold, and cuts, and lac'd
with silver; set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves,
and skirts round, underborne with a blueish 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!
Marg.
'Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of a
man.
Hero.
Fie upon thee! art not asham'd?
Marg.
Of what, lady? of speaking honourably?
Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is
not your lord honourable without marriage? I
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think you would have me say, saving your reverence,
—a husband: an bad thinking do not wrest
true speaking, I'll offend no body: Is there any harm
in—the heavier for a husband? None, I think, an it
be the right husband, and the right wife; otherwise,
'tis light, and not heavy: Ask my lady Beatrice else,
here she comes.
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 o'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 despight of
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his heart, 5notehe 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.
Beat.
What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
Marg.
Not a false gallop.
Re-enter Ursula.
Urs.
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.
