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For here's a paper written in his hand,
'A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.
upon great persuasion, and, partly, to save your life; for, as I was told, you were in a consumption.
Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth. [differ ber.
Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the marry'd man?
Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour: dost thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? no: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: in brief, since I do purpose to marry, l will think nothing to any purpose thatthe world can say against it: and therefore never flout at me, for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. -- For thy part, Claudio, Idid think to have beaten thee; but, in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin.
Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have deny'd Beatrice, that I might have cudgell'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. '
Bene. Come, come, we are friends; let's have a dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives', heels.
Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.
Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, musick. -Princc,' thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wise: there is no staff more reverend than one tipt with horn.
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24. But earthly bappier --- _-
-- cnthrall'd to loro!
i3 Hissol/ , He1ena, is nofonlt os mine.
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