“They swore that you were wellnigh dead for me,” retorted Beatrice.
“’Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?”
“No, truly, but in friendly recompense,” said Beatrice, with airy indifference.
“Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman,” said Leonato.
“And I’ll be sworn that he loves her,” said Claudio.
“Come, I will have thee,” said Benedick. “But by this light I take thee for pity.”
“I would not deny you,” said Beatrice, “but by this good day I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.”
“Peace, I will stop your mouth!” said Benedick; and he silenced her merry chatter with a loving kiss.
“Ha, ha!” laughed Don Pedro, with shy malice. “How dost thou, Benedick the married man?”
But the lovers’ happiness was proof against any raillery that could be lavished on them, and no lighter hearts led off the revelry that wedding-day than those of Beatrice and Benedick.