poor Claudio.
To-morrow then I will expect your coming;
To-night I take my leave. This naughty man
Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong,
Hired to it by your brother.
No, by my soul, she was not,
Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,
But always hath been just and virtuous
In any thing that I do know by her.
Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and
black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call
me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his
punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of
one Deformed: they say be wears a key in his ear and
a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's
name, the which he hath used so long and never paid
that now men grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing
for God's sake: pray you, examine him upon that point.
I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.
Your worship speaks like a most thankful and
reverend youth; and I praise God for you.
There's for thy pains.
God save the foundation!
Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.
I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which I
beseech your worship to correct yourself, for the
example of others. God keep your worship! I wish
your worship well; God restore you to health! I
humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry
meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour.
Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.
Farewell, my lords: we look for you to-morrow.
We will not fail.
To-night I'll mourn with Hero.
Bring you these fellows on. We'll
talk with Margaret,
How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.
Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at
my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.
Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?
In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living
shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou
deservest it.
To have no man come over me! why, shall I always
keep below stairs?
Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth; it catches.
And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit,
but hurt not.
A most manly wit, Margaret; it will not hurt a
woman: and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give
thee the bucklers.
Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.
If you use them, Margaret, you