Bene. O, she misused me past the endurance of a block: an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life and scold with her: She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester, and that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest, with such impossible conveyance upon me, that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me: She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the North Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit; yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follows her. [Re-enter Claudio, Beatrice, Leonato, and Hero.] D. Pedro. Look, here she comes. Bene. Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any embassage to the Pygmies,--rather than hold three words' conference with this harpy: You have no employment for me? D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not; I cannot endure my Lady Tongue. [Exit.] D. Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of signior Benedick. Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while; and I gave him use for it--a double heart for a single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it. D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. D. Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are you sad? Claud. Not sad, my lord. D. Pedro. How then? sick? Claud. Neither, my lord. Beat. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well: but civil, count; civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion. D. Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained: name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy! Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes; his grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it!