| ACT III SCENE IV | HERO's apartment. | |
| | Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA | |
| HERO | Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire | |
| | her to rise. | |
| URSULA | I will, lady. | |
| HERO | And bid her come hither. | 5 |
| URSULA | Well. | |
| | Exit | |
| MARGARET | Troth, I think your other rabato were better. | |
| HERO | No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. | |
| MARGARET | By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your | |
| | cousin will say so. | 10 |
| HERO | My cousin's a fool, and thou art another: I'll wear | |
| | none but this. | |
| MARGARET | 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 Duchess of Milan's | 15 |
| | gown that they praise so. | |
| HERO | O, that exceeds, they say. | |
| MARGARET | By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of | |
| | yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with | |
| | silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, | 20 |
| | and skirts, round underborne with a bluish 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. | 25 |
| MARGARET | 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man. | |
| HERO | Fie upon thee! art not ashamed? | |
| MARGARET | Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not | |
| | marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord | |
| | honourable without marriage? I think you would have | 30 |
| | me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' and bad | |
| | thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend | |
| | nobody: is there any harm in 'the heavier for a | |
| | husband'? None, I think, and it be the right husband | |
| | and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not | 35 |
| | heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes. | |
| | Enter BEATRICE | |
| HERO | Good morrow, coz. | |
| BEATRICE | Good morrow, sweet Hero. | |
| HERO | Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune? | |
| BEATRICE | I am out of all other tune, methinks. | 40 |
| MARGARET | Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a | |
| | burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it. | |
| BEATRICE | Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your | |
| | husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall | |
| | lack no barns. | 45 |
| MARGARET | O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels. | |
| BEATRICE | 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; tis time you were | |
| | ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho! | |
| MARGARET | For a hawk, a horse, or a husband? | |
| BEATRICE | For the letter that begins them all, H. | 50 |
| MARGARET | Well, and you be not turned Turk, there's no more | |
| | sailing by the star. | |
| BEATRICE | What means the fool, trow? | |
| MARGARET | Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire! | |
| HERO | These gloves the count sent me; they are an | 55 |
| | excellent perfume. | |
| BEATRICE | I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell. | |
| MARGARET | A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold. | |
| BEATRICE | O, God help me! God help me! how long have you | |
| | professed apprehension? | 60 |
| MARGARET | Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely? | |
| BEATRICE | It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your | |
| | cap. By my troth, I am sick. | |
| MARGARET | Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, | |
| | and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm. | 65 |
| HERO | There thou prickest her with a thistle. | |
| BEATRICE | Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in | |
| | this Benedictus. | |
| MARGARET | Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I | |
| | meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance | 70 |
| | 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 of thinking, that you | |
| | are in love or that you will be in love or that you | 75 |
| | 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 despite of his heart, he eats | |
| | his meat without grudging: and how you may be | |
| | converted I know not, but methinks you look with | 80 |
| | your eyes as other women do. | |
| BEATRICE | What pace is this that thy tongue keeps? | |
| MARGARET | Not a false gallop. | |
| | Re-enter URSULA | |
| URSULA | Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior | |
| | Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the | 85 |
| | town, are come to fetch you to church. | |
| HERO | Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. | |
| | Exeunt | |