I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick; nobody marks you. BENEDICK. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? BEATRICE. Is it possible Disdain should die, while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence. It is clear that she cannot for a moment endure his neglect, and he can as little tolerate her scorn. Nothing that Benedick addresses to Beatrice personally can equal the malicious force of some of her attacks upon him: he is either restrained by a feeling of natural gallantry, little as she deserves the consideration due to her sex, (for a female satirist ever places herself beyond the pale of such forbearance,) or he is subdued by her superior volubility. He revenges himself, however, in her absence: he abuses her with such a variety of comic invective, and pours forth his pent-up wrath with such a ludicrous extravagance and exaggeration, that he betrays at once how deep is his mortification, and how unreal his enmity. In the midst of all this tilting and sparring of their nimble and fiery wits, we find them infinitely anxious for the good opinion of each other, and secretly impatient of each other's scorn: but Beatrice is the most truly indifferent of the two; the most assured of herself. The comic effect produced by their mutual attachment, which, however natural and expected, comes upon us with all the force of a surprise, cannot be surpassed: and how exquisitely characteristic the mutual avowal! BENEDICK. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. BEATRICE. Do not swear by it, and eat it. BENEDICK. I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it, that says, I love not you. BEATRICE. Will you not eat your word? BENEDICK. With no sauce that can be devised to it: I protest, I love thee. BEATRICE. Why, then, God forgive me! BENEDICK. What offence, sweet Beatrice? BEATRICE. You stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest, I loved you. BENEDICK. And do it with all thy heart. BEATRICE. I love you with so much of my heart, that there is none left to protest.