1599 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
Page: 56

below
stairs?
Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth--it catches.
Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit but
hurt
not.
Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret: it will not hurt a woman.
And so I pray thee call Beatrice. I give thee the bucklers.
Marg. Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.
Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with
a
vice, and they are dangerous weapons for maids.
Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.
Bene. And therefore will come.
Exit Margaret.
[Sings] The god of love,
That sits above
And knows me, and knows me,
How pitiful I deserve--

I mean in singing; but in loving Leander the good swimmer,
Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full
of
these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in
the
even road of a blank verse--why, they were never so truly
turn'd
over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I cannot show
it in
rhyme. I have tried. I can find out no rhyme to 'lady' but
'baby'
--an innocent rhyme; for 'scorn,' 'horn'--a hard rhyme; for
'school', 'fool'--a babbling rhyme: very ominous endings! No,
I
was not born under a rhyming planet, nor cannot woo in
festival
terms.

Enter Beatrice.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I call'd thee?
Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
Bene. O, stay but till then!
Beat. 'Then' is spoken. Fare you well now. And yet, ere I go,
let
me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath
pass'd between you and Claudio.
Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.
Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul
breath, and foul breath is noisome. Therefore I will depart
unkiss'd.
Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so
forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio
undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from