Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it: I protest I love thee. Beat. Why then, God forgive me! Bene. What offence, sweet Beatrice? Beat. You have stayed me in a happy hour; I was about to protest I loved you. Bene. And do it with all thy heart. Beat. I love you with so much of my heart, that none is left to protest. Bene. Come, bid me do anything for thee. Beat. Kill Claudio. Bene. Ha! not for the wide world. Beat. You kill me to deny it: Farewell. Bene. Tarry, sweet Beatrice. Beat. I am gone, though I am here:--There is no love in you:--Nay, I pray you, let me go. Bene. Beatrice,-- Beat. In faith, I will go. Bene. We'll be friends first. Beat. You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy. Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy? Beat. Is 'a not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman?--O that I were a man!--What! bear her in hand until they come to take hands; and then with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice;-- Beat. Talk with a man out at a window?--a proper saying. Bene. Nay but, Beatrice;-- Beat. Sweet Hero!--she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone. Bene. Beat-- Beat. Princes, and Counties! Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count-confect: a sweet gallant, surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie, and swears it:--I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice: By this hand, I love thee. Beat. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it. Bene. Think you in your soul the count Claudio hath wronged Hero? Beat. Yea, as sure is I have a thought, or a soul. Bene. Enough, I am engaged, I will challenge him; I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you: By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account: As you hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your cousin: I must say she is dead; and so, farewell. [Exeunt.] Scene II.--A prison. [Enter Dogberry, Verges, Sexton, in gowns; and the Watch, with Conrade and Borachio.] Dogb. Is our whole dissembly appeared? Verg. O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton! Sexton. Which be the malefactors? Dogb. Marry, that am I and my partner. Verg. Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition to examine. Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examined? let them come before master constable. Dogb. Yea, marry, let them come before me.--What is your name, friend? Bor. Borachio. Dogb. Pray write down, Borachio.--Yours, sirrah? Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade. Dogb. Write down, master gentleman Conrade.--Masters, do you serve God? [Con Bora. Yea, sir, we hope.