Pedro.

See, see, here comes the man we went to seek.

Claud.

Now Signior, what news?

Bene.

Good day, my lord.

Pedro.

Welcome Signior; you are almost come to part almost a fray.

Claud.

We had like to have had our two noses snapt off with two old men without teeth.

Pedro.

Leonato and his brother; what think'st thou? had we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them.

Bene.

In a false quarrel there is no true valour: I came to seek you both.

Claud.

We have been up and down to seek thee, for we are high proof melancholly, and would fain have it beaten away: wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene.

It is in my scabbard; shall I draw it?

Pedro.

Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?

Claud.

Never any did so, though very many have been beside their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw to pleasure us.

Pedro.

As I am an honest man he looks pale: art thou sick or angry?

Claud.

What! courage man: what tho'care kill'd a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.

Bene.

Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, if you charge it against me. I pray you chuse another subject.

Claud.

Nay, then give him another staff, this last was broke cross.

Pedro.

By this light, he changes more and more: I think he be angry indeed.

Claud.

If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.

Bene.

Shall I speak a word in your ear?

Claud.

God bless me from a challenge!

Bene.

You are a villain; I jest not. I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will protect your cowardise. You have kill'd a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.

Claud.

Well I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.

Pedro.

What, a feast?

Claud.

I'faith I thank him, he hath bid me to a calves-head and a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?

Bene.

Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily.

Pedro.

I'll tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day: I said thou hadst a fine wit; right, says she, a fine little one; no, said I, a great wit; just, said she, a great gross one; nay said I, a good wit; just, said she, it hurts no body; nay said I, the gentleman is wise; certain, said she, a wise gentleman; nay said I, he hath the tongues; that I believe, said she, for he swore a thing to me on Monday night which he forswore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue, there's two tongues. Thus did she an hour together trans-shape thy particular virtues, yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.

Claud.

For the which she wept heartily, and said she car'd not.

Pedro.

Yea, that she did; but yet for all that, and if she did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly; the old man's daughter told us all.

Claud.

All, all; and moreover, God saw him when he was hid in the garden.

Pedro.

But when shall we set the salvage bull's horns on the sensible Benedick's head?

Claud.

Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Benedick the married man.

Bene.

Fare you well, boy, you know my mind, I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour; you break jests as braggards do their blades, which God be thank'd hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you; I must discontinue your company; your brother the bastard is fled from Messina; you have among you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my lord lack-beard there, he and I shall meet, and 'till then peace be with him.

Pedro.

He is in earnest.

Claud.

In most profound earnest, and I'll warrant you for the love of Beatrice.

Pedro.

And hath challeng'd thee?

Claud.

Most sincerely.

Pedro.

What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit.