merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her: they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them. Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed 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. Is't possible? Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil? He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a' be cured. I will hold friends with you, lady. Do, good friend. You will never run mad, niece. No, not till a hot January. Don Pedro is approached. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is your daughter. Her mother hath many times told me so. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an honourable father. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?