Much Ado About Nothing Page #4

Such a man would win any woman in the world.

If he could get her good will.

By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee

a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.

Lord, I could not endure a husband

with a beard on his face.

I'd rather lie in the woolen.

You may light on a husband that hath no beard.

And what should I do with him?

Dress him in my apparel

and make him my waiting-gentlewoman?

He that hath a beard is more than a youth.

And he that hath no beard is less than a man.

And he that is more than a youth is not for me.

And he that is less than a man, I am not for him.

Yet in faith, she's too cursed.

Well, then, go you into hell?

No, but to the gate.

And there will the devil meet me

like an old cuckold...

...with horns on his head, and say:

"Get you to heaven, Beatrice.

"Here's no place for you maids."

So away to Saint Peter for the heavens.

He shows me where the bachelors sit.

And there live we as merry as the day is long.

Well, niece,

I hope you will be ruled by your father.

Yes, faith,

it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy...

...and say, "Father, as it please you."

But yet for all that, cousin,

let him be a handsome fellow...

...or else make another curtsy

and say, "Father, as it please me."

Daughter...

...remember what I told you.

If the prince do solicit you in that kind...

...you know your answer.

Well, niece.

I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.

Not till God make men

of some other metal than earth.

Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.

I have a good eye, uncle.

I can see a church by daylight.

The revellers are entering!

Lady, will you walk about with your friend?

I know you well enough.

You are Signior Antonio.

At a word, I am not.

I know you by the waggling of your head.

At a word, I am not.

Come, come, do you think I do not know you

by your excellent wit?

Can virtue hide itself?

Go to, mum, you are he.

Graces will appear, and there's an end.

Well, I would you did like me.

So would not I, for I have many ill qualities.

- Which is one?

- I say my prayers aloud.

- Will you not tell me who told you, sir?

- No, you shall pardon me.

- Nor will you not tell me who you are?

- Not now.

That I was disdainful...

...and that I had my good wit

out of the "Hundred Merry Tales."

Well, this was Signior Benedick that said so.

What's he?

I'm sure you know him well enough.

Not I, believe me.

Did he never make you laugh?

I pray you, what is he?

Why, he is the prince's jester.

A very dull fool.

His only gift is in devising impossible slanders.

None but libertines delight in him,

for he both pleases men and angers them...

...and then they laugh at him and beat him.

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