Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere Beatrice. The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important, tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, & repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace: the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge (and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest, (as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue Leonato. Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly Beatrice. I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church by daylight Leon. The reuellers are entring brother, make good roome. Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or dumbe Iohn, Maskers with a drum. Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend? Hero. So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I walke away Pedro. With me in your company Hero. I may say so when I please Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your fauour, for God defend the Lute should be like the case Pedro. My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house is Loue Hero. Why then your visor should be thatcht Pedro. Speake low if you speake Loue Bene. Well, I would you did like me Mar. So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue manie ill qualities Bene. Which is one? Mar. I say my prayers alowd Ben. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen Mar. God match me with a good dauncer Balt. Amen Mar. And God keepe him out of my sight when the daunce is done: answer Clarke Balt. No more words, the Clarke is answered Vrsula. I know you well enough, you are Signior Anthonio Anth. At a word, I am not Vrsula. I know you by the wagling of your head Anth. To tell you true, I counterfet him Vrsu. You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down, you are he, you are he Anth. At a word I am not Vrsula. Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's an end Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so? Bene. No, you shall pardon me Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are? Bened. Not now Beat. That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior Benedicke that said so Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure you know him well enough Bene. Not I, beleeue me