MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
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would have me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' an bad thinking
do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend nobody. Is there any harm in
'the heavier for a husband'? None, I think, an it be the right husband
and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not heavy: ask my Lady
Beatrice else; here she comes.

[Enter BEATRICE.]

HERO.
Good morrow, coz.

BEATRICE.
Good morrow, sweet Hero.

HERO.
Why, how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

BEATRICE.
I am out of all other tune, methinks.

MARGARET.
Clap's into 'Light o' love'; that goes without a burden: do you sing
it, and I'll dance it.

BEATRICE.
Ye, light o' love with your heels! then, if your husband have stables
enough, you'll see he shall lack no barnes.

MARGARET.
O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

BEATRICE.
'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; 'tis time you were ready. By my
troth, I am exceeding ill. Heigh-ho!

MARGARET.
For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

BEATRICE.
For the letter that begins them all, H.

MARGARET.
Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's no more sailing by the star.

BEATRICE.
What means the fool, trow?

MARGARET.
Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!

HERO.
These gloves the Count sent me; they are an excellent perfume.

BEATRICE.
I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell.

MARGARET.
A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.

BEATRICE.
O, God help me! God help me! how long have you professed
apprehension?

MARGARET.
Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely!

BEATRICE.
It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth,
I am sick.

MARGARET.
Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to
your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

HERO.
There thou prick'st her with a thistle.

BEATRICE.
Benedictus! why benedictus? you have some moral in this Benedictus.

MARGARET.
Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain
holy-thistle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love:
nay, by'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list; nor I list