BEATRICE.
How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after.
HERO.
He is of a very melancholy disposition.
BEATRICE.
He were an excellent man that were made just in the mid-way between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image, and says nothing; and the other too like my lady’s eldest son, evermore tattling.
LEONATO.
Then half Signior Benedick’s tongue in Count John’s mouth, and half Count John’s melancholy in Signior Benedick’s face—
BEATRICE.
With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world if a’ could get her good will.
LEONATO.
By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
ANTONIO.
In faith, she’s too curst.
BEATRICE.
Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God’s sending that way; for it is said, ‘God sends a curst cow short horns;’ but to a cow too curst he sends none.
LEONATO.
So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns?
BEATRICE.
Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord! I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.