1599 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
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Beat. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the wars
or no?
Mess. I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in
the
army of any sort.
Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero. My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
Mess. O, he's return'd, and as pleasant as ever he was.
Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina and challeng'd Cupid
at
the flight, and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge,
subscrib'd for Cupid and challeng'd him at the burbolt. I
pray
you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in these wars? But how
many hath he kill'd? For indeed I promised to eat all of his
killing.
Leon. Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but
he'll
be meet with you, I doubt it not.
Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it. He is
a
very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach.
Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.
Beat. And a good soldier to a lady; but what is he to a lord?
Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuff'd with all
honourable
virtues.
Beat. It is so indeed. He is no less than a stuff'd man; but
for
the stuffing--well, we are all mortal.
Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of
merry
war betwixt Signior Benedick and her. They never meet but
there's
a skirmish of wit between them.
Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that! In our last conflict four
of
his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man
govern'd
with one; so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm,
let
him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse;
for
it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a
reasonable
creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new
sworn brother.
Mess. Is't possible?
Beat. Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the
fashion
of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.
Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
Beat. No. An he were, I would burn my study. But I pray you,