Bene. Is Claudio thine enemie? Beat. Is a not approued in the height a villaine, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! what, beare her in hand vntill they come to take hands, and then with publike accusation vncouered slander, vnmittigated rancour? O God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place
Bene. Heare me Beatrice
Beat. Talke with a man out at a window, a proper saying
Bene. Nay but Beatrice
Beat. Sweet Hero, she is wrong'd, shee is slandered, she is vndone
Bene. Beat? Beat. Princes and Counties! surelie a Princely testimonie, a goodly Count, Comfect, a sweet Gallant surelie, O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into cursies, valour into complement, and men are onelie turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and sweares it: I cannot be a man with wishing, therfore I will die a woman with grieuing
Bene. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee
Beat. Vse it for my loue some other way then swearing
by it
Bened. Thinke you in your soule the Count Claudio
hath wrong'd Hero?
Beat. Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a soule
Bene. Enough, I am engagde, I will challenge him, I will kisse your hand, and so leaue you: by this hand Claudio shall render me a deere account: as you heare of me, so thinke of me: goe comfort your coosin, I must say she is dead, and so farewell. Enter the Constables, Borachio, and the Towne Clerke in gownes.