Benedick: Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
Beatrice: Yea, signor, and depart when you bid me.
Benedick: O, stay but till then… And I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
Beatrice: For them all together, which maintained so politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?
Benedick: Suffer love! A good epithet. I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.
Beatrice: In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor heart!
Benedick: Do not you love me?
Beatrice: Why no, no more than reason.
Benedick: Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and Claudio have been deceived – they swore you did.
Beatrice: Do not you love me?
Benedick: Troth, no, no more than reason.
Beatrice: Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula are much deceived, for they did swear you did.
Benedick: They swore that you were almost sick for me.
Beatrice: They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
Benedick: ’Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
Beatrice: No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
Benedick: Come, I will have thee.
Beatrice: I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.
Benedick: Peace! I will stop your mouth.