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BENEDICK: Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
BEATRICE: Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
BENEDICK: I will not desire that.
BEATRICE: You have no reason, I do it freely.
BENEDICK: Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
BEATRICE: Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!
BENEDICK: Is there any way to show such friendship?
BEATRICE: A very even way, but no such friend.
BENEDICK: May a man do it?
BEATRICE: It is a man’s office, but not yours.
BENEDICK: I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?
BEATRICE: As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you, but believe me not, and yet I lie not. I confess nothing nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
BENEDICK: By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
BEATRICE: Do not swear and eat it.
BENEDICK: I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.
BEATRICE: Will you not eat your word?
BENEDICK: With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.
BEATRICE: Why then, God forgive me.
BENEDICK: What offense, sweet Beatrice?
BEATRICE: You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest I loved you.
BENEDICK: And do it with all thy heart.
BEATRICE: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
BENEDICK: Come, bid me do anything for thee.
BEATRICE: Kill Claudio.
BENEDICK: Ha! Not for the wide world.
BEATRICE: You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
BENEDICK: Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
BEATRICE: I am gone though I am here. There is no love in you. - Nay, I pray you, let me go.
BENEDICK: Beatrice.
BEATRICE: In faith, I will go.
BENEDICK: We’ll be friends first.
BEATRICE: You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.
BENEDICK: Is Claudio thine enemy?
BEATRICE: Is [he] not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancor - O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market place.
BENEDICK: Hear me, Beatrice.
BEATRICE: Talk with a man out at a window - a proper saying.
BENEDICK: Nay, but Beatrice.
BEATRICE: Sweet Hero, she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.
BENEDICK: Beat -
William Shakespeare,
Much Ado About Nothing (W. W. Norton, 2008)