  Bene. Doe not you loue me?
  Beat. Why no, no more then reason

   Bene. Why then your Vncle, and the Prince, & Claudio,
haue beene deceiued, they swore you did

   Beat. Doe not you loue mee?
  Bene. Troth no, no more then reason

   Beat. Why then my Cosin Margaret and Vrsula
Are much deceiu'd, for they did sweare you did

   Bene. They swore you were almost sicke for me

   Beat. They swore you were wel-nye dead for me

   Bene. 'Tis no matter, then you doe not loue me?
  Beat. No truly, but in friendly recompence

   Leon. Come Cosin, I am sure you loue the gentlema[n]

   Clau. And Ile be sworne vpon't, that he loues her,
For heres a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his owne pure braine,
Fashioned to Beatrice

   Hero. And heeres another,
Writ in my cosins hand, stolne from her pocket,
Containing her affection vnto Benedicke

   Bene. A miracle, here's our owne hands against our
hearts: come I will haue thee, but by this light I take
thee for pittie

   Beat. I would not denie you, but by this good day, I
yeeld vpon great perswasion, & partly to saue your life,
for I was told, you were in a consumption

   Leon. Peace I will stop your mouth

   Prin. How dost thou Benedicke the married man?
  Bene. Ile tell thee what Prince: a Colledge of witte-crackers
cannot flout mee out of my humour, dost thou
think I care for a Satyre or an Epigram? no, if a man will
be beaten with braines, a shall weare nothing handsome
about him: in briefe, since I do purpose to marry, I will
thinke nothing to any purpose that the world can say against
it, and therefore neuer flout at me, for I haue said
against it: for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion:
for thy part Claudio, I did thinke to haue beaten
thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, liue vnbruis'd,
and loue my cousin

   Cla. I had well hop'd y wouldst haue denied Beatrice, y
I might haue cudgel'd thee out of thy single life, to make
thee a double dealer, which out of questio[n] thou wilt be,
if my Cousin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee

   Bene. Come, come, we are friends, let's haue a dance
ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts,
and our wiues heeles

   Leon. Wee'll haue dancing afterward

   Bene. First, of my word, therfore play musick. Prince,
thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife, there is no
staff more reuerend then one tipt with horn.
Enter. Mes.

  Messen. My Lord, your brother Iohn is tane in flight,
And brought with armed men backe to Messina

   Bene. Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuise
thee braue punishments for him: strike vp Pipers.

Dance.

FINIS. Much adoe about Nothing.
