Clau. We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for we are high proofe melancholly, and would faine haue it beaten away, wilt thou vse thy wit? Ben. It is in my scabberd, shall I draw it? Prin. Doest thou weare thy wit by thy side? Clau. Neuer any did so, though verie many haue been beside their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as we do the minstrels, draw to pleasure vs Prin. As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art thou sicke, or angrie? Clau. What, courage man: what though care kil'd a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care Ben. Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and you charge it against me, I pray you chuse another subiect Clau. Nay then giue him another staffe, this last was broke crosse Prin. By this light, he changes more and more, I thinke he be angrie indeede Clau. If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle Ben. Shall I speake a word in your eare? Clau. God blesse me from a challenge Ben. You are a villaine, I iest not, I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare: do me right, or I will protest your cowardise: you haue kill'd a sweete Ladie, and her death shall fall heauie on you, let me heare from you Clau. Well, I will meete you, so I may haue good cheare Prin. What, a feast, a feast? Clau. I faith I thanke him, he hath bid me to a calues head and a Capon, the which if I doe not carue most curiously, say my knife's naught, shall I not finde a woodcocke too? Ben. Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily Prin. Ile tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day: I said thou hadst a fine wit: true saies she, a fine little one: no said I, a great wit: right saies shee, a great grosse one: nay said I, a good wit: iust said she, it hurts no body: nay said I, the gentleman is wise: certaine said she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he hath the tongues: that I beleeue said shee, for hee swore a thing to me on munday night, which he forswore on tuesday morning: there's a double tongue, there's two tongues: thus did shee an howre together trans-shape thy particular vertues, yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the proprest man in Italie Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and said shee car'd not Prin. Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if shee did not hate him deadlie, shee would loue him dearely, the old mans daughter told vs all Clau. All, all, and moreouer, God saw him when he was hid in the garden Prin. But when shall we set the sauage Bulls hornes on the sensible Benedicks head? Clau. Yea and text vnderneath, heere dwells Benedicke the married man