D. Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more: I think he be angry indeed.
140 Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.
Bene. Shall I speak a word in your ear?
Claud. God bless me from a challenge!
Bene. [Aside to Claudio] [143] You are a villain; I jest not: I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and 145 when you dare. Do me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear from you.
Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.
[149] D. Pedro. What, a feast, a feast?
[150] Claud. I’ faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf’s-head [151] and a capon; the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my knife’s naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?
Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
155 D. Pedro. I’ll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit [156] the other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit: ‘True,’ said [157] she, ‘a fine little one.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘a great wit:’ ‘Right,’ [158] says she, ‘a great gross one.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘a good wit:’ [159] ‘Just,’ said she, ‘it hurts nobody.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘the [160] gentleman is wise:’ ‘Certain,’ said she, ‘a wise gentleman.’ ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘he hath the tongues:’ ‘That I believe,’ said she, ‘for he swore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning; there’s a [164] double tongue; there’s two tongues.’ Thus did she, an hour 165 together, trans-shape thy particular virtues: yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the properest man in Italy.